August 2013
Regular readers of this column will know that my wife and copilot, Kate Bolton, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer last fall. I am happy to report that after surgery and aggressive chemotherapy she is in complete remission and back to work part-time! But we still have to go into San Francisco, about a 90-mile drive each way, every three weeks for maintenance therapy that will (hopefully) keep her in remission.
Months ago, I wondered if there was any way we could fly to the Bay Area for Kate’s chemo, and dismissed it—we were under enough stress without adding turbulence, weather and ground transportation issues—but our May 2013 trip was a special case.
Kate’s appointments are always on a Friday. This time we had obligations in Los Angeles on Saturday. I had resigned myself to spending a lot of time in the car, but when we discovered that Kate’s infusion was scheduled in the afternoon, instead of the morning—meaning we’d have to leave at rush hour, get out of the Bay Area and then drive to L.A., arriving oh, around midnight—I wondered, might there be an alternative?
Years ago, I had a job that required attending meetings in the San Francisco area. I’d found a way to use an airplane for that: fly into Oakland, where the nice people at Kaiser Air charged a ramp fee that was actually less than what I’d pay to park my car in town, and for that fee, the staff would drive me to a nearby Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) station.
I’d take BART into town, walk to my meeting, BART back to Oakland, and fly home. It provided an excuse to fly and definitely beat sitting in rush hour traffic. A call to Kaiser Air confirmed its courtesy van was still available.
I checked weather and it looked flyable here in Modesto (KMOD), at Oakland (KOAK) and Fullerton (KFUL)—the closest airport to some friends who could put us up for two nights between all-day meetings. Kate called the infusion center for ground transportation instructions and confirmed it was possible to get there from BART. It started to look good! Just one more thing to check: was I instrument current? No, but with a week to play with, I could fix that.
Larry Askew, the CFII who coached both Kate and me through our pilot certificates, and me through my instrument rating, owed me a favor. I called and asked if he might be available as safety pilot.
Before getting together with Larry, I spent a couple of hours using Microsoft Flight Simulator, which I find really helps if I haven’t logged any instrument time for awhile. I also used it to preview the legs from KMOD to KOAK and KOAK to KFUL, with the real-world weather option.
Doing so confirmed that I’d probably need to penetrate at least one thin cloud layer—and in any case, it’s much easier to fly in Class B airspace on an IFR flight plan.
Before departure with Larry a day later, I’d told him that I planned to start with a GPS approach making maximum use of the autopilot—and at his request, fly the published missed approach, which he’d never actually flown. Then I planned to fly two ILS approaches: one by hand with the full instrument panel, and then one using partial panel with the autopilot (wing leveler only). With those three approaches, I’d be both legal and fairly confident (assuming, of course, that I flew them okay).
I should have known better than to ask a CFII along as just a safety pilot. They’re too devious for that! Larry pretty much let me fly (or rather, supervise the autopilot while it flew) the first approach and miss, but while I was hand-flying the second approach, he told me to keep speed up for a simulated airliner behind—then added yet another one landing ahead of us, and asked me to stay a dot high on final and land long.
That completed, I demonstrated my version of partial panel using the wing leveler and substituting GPS track for magnetic heading. I was getting along fine when Larry tossed in a simulated wind change requiring a circling approach. I used circling methods I’d learned in Wisconsin years back (but had not remembered perfectly!), wound up high and used full flaps to dive-bomb Runway 28L—and pulled off what Larry called “a nice save” (not an arrival, phew!).
Afterward he agreed that while I was dishiveled, I was still a competent instrument pilot and offered to sign an instrument proficiency check “so you can stop counting approaches.”
With that out of the way, it came time for the flight. Larry’s extra preparation paid off as Approach told me to keep speed up on the way into Oakland, which I did, until starting to descend toward the cloud tops at 2,000 feet. We popped out at into clear air at 700 feet.
A line guy from Kaiser guided us to a parking spot next to a much bigger single in front of a line of jets and brought the van to take us to BART. We had about a 10-minute wait for a train, then 20 minutes for the #2 muni bus, and arrived at the hospital about noon.
After Kate’s appointments, another bus ride, BART and Kaiser’s shuttle got us back to the airport. It was after 5:00 p.m. by the time we got off, and while ATC gave me several shortcuts, we didn’t get parked at KFUL until 8:45—just 15 minutes before the FBO closed.
There were just a few scattered stratus on departure from Oakland, and we were vectored well to the east before turning south on course. We picked up a tailwind, which I thought might help make up for lost time, until ATC rerouted us. Then came something I hadn’t prepared for: vectors for the VOR-Alpha approach. Fortunately, visibility at dusk was good and the approach set us up on a 45 to downwind for Runway 24.
After a day’s worth of meetings, driving in L.A. traffic, dinner with old friends—and one very long night’s sleep—we got up late Sunday morning and checked weather to find KFUL socked in, so we dawdled over breakfast and didn’t get out until almost noon, by which time it was VFR. The flight home was routine with two exceptions…
Before filing my flight plan, I used a feature on ForeFlight Mobile (on my iPad) that lets you look up clearances ATC has used for other airplanes with the same departure and destination. That clued me in to expect the Anaheim Three departure procedure. So I requested that, and got it—but with a small change that I didn’t catch. I’d asked to fly direct from Lake Hughes (LHS) to Shafter (EHF) VOR, and instead they cleared me via V165, which has a dogleg to the west.
The reason for that was probably a TFR at Shafter-Minter field (KMIT) for an aerobatic display, which closed airspace below 9,500 feet. I knew about that, so requested 10,000 feet and fly over it—but ATC still caught me headed the wrong way. I promptly corrected and didn’t get yelled at or (worse) given a phone number to call on the ground.
We also encountered unexpected weather over the mountains. The forecast was clear with haze, but of course on FAA weather briefings, “clear” means “clear below 12,000,” so I guess the broken cloud layer at about 14,000 didn’t count. That’s where the haze tops were, and at 10,000 feet we were in continuous light (occasionally moderate) bumps until we popped out from under the clouds just before Bakersfield. From that point on we had a smooth ride until descending for landing at Modesto.
One more anomaly: after takeoff from Fullerton, we were given a series of radar vectors (including one across a leg of the Anaheim Three departure procedure) and eventually given a vector “to intercept” another leg, which I did—just before the point where we needed to make a turn.
I was not certain whether I was cleared to do that or was supposed to remain on the existing heading, and asked. The reply was, “Are you instrument qualified and equipped?” I answered in the affirmative and received, “Then continue on Anaheim Three…”.
Thus a question: does a vector “to intercept” imply clearance to continue with a departure procedure? The reason I ask is it does not imply clearance on an approach!
Other than that, it was a pretty good flight and the overall experience was positive—I’m still able to keep up in very busy airspace. Total time for all legs (including hood work Friday): 6.3 hours, including over an hour simulated instrument time and about five minutes of actual instrument time.
John D. Ruley is an instrument-rated pilot and freelance writer. He holds a master’s degree from the University of North Dakota Space Studies program (space.edu). Until recently he was a volunteer pilot with ligainternational.org and angelflight.org, two charities which operate medical missions in northwest Mexico and provide medical patient transport, respectively. He hopes to fly with both organizations later this year.
