September 2004
The bugs near Anderson, Ind. are what I remember the most, along with more actual IFR (two solid hours) in one week than I’ve had in the entire year since… but I’ll get to that.
Last month, I wrote about my experience last year flying from my home base in Modesto, Calif., to Waupaca, Wis.—an uncontrolled airport near Oshkosh. It was my second trip east for an EAA AirVenture.
The trip out was mostly uneventful (other than an unscheduled stop in Wyoming due to weather). The trip back was a bit more challenging. I used some unusual in-cockpit technology on that trip.
As an IFR pilot, I needed approach plates for about half of the continental US, plus en-route charts; and since I didn’t want to fly IFR all the time I also needed VFR charts. Instead of carrying all that paper, I switched to electronic charts—Jeppesen JeppView approach plates and FliteMap route planning and mapping software, which I was running on a Motion Computing M1200 Tablet PC.
I backed those up by printing out the approach plates for all of my planned airports and alternates before I left, and had both IFR and VFR chart atlases from Air Chart systems in the seat-back pockets to back up the electronic charts on the Tablet PC in my lap… After the first leg, the Tablet PC went back in my flight bag and I wound up using the paper charts—the 12 volt adapter I’d bought to run the silly thing off alternator power had a short cable that wouldn’t stay plugged in.
So for the rest of the trip, I was primarily using paper charts with the computer as a back-up. With the stage set, and my logbook open, here’s a warts-and-all rundown on my trip home:
7/30/2003: Waupaca WI -> Waukesha WI: 1.6 hrs (0.3 IFR)
Waukesha is about 150 miles southeast of Waupaca. I stopped there for a one-day IFR refresher at the invitation of Greg Plantz, CEO of Proficient Flight. Greg operates a sophisticated Frasca Flight Training Device that’s capable of simulating just about any piston-engine single or twin. A two-day version of the course is accepted as recurrent training by most insurance companies for twin pilots.
Aside from just being curious, I figured (correctly) that my rusty IFR skills would benefit from one day of really concentrated IFR training. Unlike traditional hood work, the Frasca lets Greg concentrate on the most difficult things, including emergency procedures. My logbook shows a whopping 3.9 hours of simulated IFR, and a good half of that was partial panel!
I even got a video to take home showing how I did on a simulated flight with problems including both radio and gyro failures, ending with an ILS to minimums. I did well, which was a great confidence builder as I faced actual IFR on the rest of the trip.
There was one more frustrating event on this leg—my wireless Palm VIIx personal digital assistant (PDA) locked up while I was trying to check e-mail. I had to perform a “hard reset” (pull the batteries and replace them) which solved the problem but also wiped its memory—including the software I was using to get NEXRAD radar images in flight… And with all the computer equipment I’d brought with me, I hadn’t thought to include a cable to connect the PDA to the Tablet PC—if I had, I could have reinstalled the software. Lesson: Always carry a backup!
7/1/2003: Waukesha WI -> Anderson IN -> Parkersburg WV: 4.9 hrs (0.5 IFR)
Why was I heading east on my way home to the “Left Coast”? It was a side trip—my uncle E.E. Ruley, a retired petroleum geologist, ex-Army signal corps radioman and all-around character (he started most days with a breakfast of Kellogg’s All-Bran cereal splashed with Iron City beer for many years) had died a few months earlier, and his memorial service was in Parkersburg, so I extended my trip a few days.
The weather was nasty—a big storm system was moving through the Chicago area. I diverted south and the east, which kept me around the edge of it, mostly in VMC—though Anderson (a fuel stop I added because of the diversion) was marginal. This was way off my planned route, so I didn’t have the necessary approach plates printed out.
Given my recent experience with less-than-reliable electronic gizmos, I didn’t want to bet my life on the Tablet PC working, so improvised: On part of the leg from Waukesha, I turned on the autopilot, pulled up the Andersen ILS chart on the M1200 and drew a rough copy on the back of one of my pre-printed plates. It wasn’t pretty, but worked just fine!
The weather must have stirred up every bug between Wisconsin and Indiana—after landing and taxiing to the FBO, I found that not only was the windshield a mess (the linesman wiped it off and promptly threw his towel away), but the leading edges of both the wings and prop were covered by a solid layer of bug guts. I haven’t seen so many before or since!
One more thing at Anderson—while waiting for IFR release, I listened to an desperate-sounding VFR pilot looking for the field. Radar vectors brought him in, but he didn’t have the runway until he was two miles out. If you’re not instrument rated, trying to scud-run on a nasty day is rarely a good idea!
The weather improved on the first half of the leg from Anderson to Parkersburg, but as I neared the Ohio River, I found myself working around build-ups, and eventually had to get “in the soup”. The IFR refresher training I’d had the day before paid off—I faced it with confidence, and had no problems.
8/3/2003: Parkersburg WV -> Dayton OH: 2.1 hrs (0.3 IFR)
Getting out of Parkersburg turned out to be a lot more work than getting in—the weather system I’d diverted around on my way east from Wisconsin had arrived overnight, and the day dawned rainy. At my hotel, the sound of distant thunder made me wonder if I’d have to spend an extra day.
A call to flight service wasn’t encouraging—one line of level III thunderstorms moving very slowly through the area, and another on the way in from the west. The briefer suggested calling back in a couple of hours, and I went out to breakfast.
By the time I’d finished, the sky was looking marginally brighter and a call to the briefer brought the welcome news that I might just be able to get out between the two lines “if you leave right now.” I’d already packed, so checked out of the hotel and headed for the airport.
I dropped off the rental car, preflighted while listening to the ATIS on my handheld back-up radio… and heard “lighting in vicinity.” That stopped me cold. I went into the FBO, both to pay for gas and check weather radar, wondering if I’d need to get the rental car back.
It turned out that the line was just east of the airport and headed away. Since I was headed west, this wasn’t a problem. The other line was south and east of my route. Weather improved to the north, providing an escape route.
I decided to launch and after a few clouds on departure found myself in the clear between the layers until I ran into one rain shower on final into Dayton International Airport—I actually welcomed the rain, as it helped wash bugs off the airplane!
8/5/2003: Dayton OH -> Ottumwa IO -> O’Neill NE: 6.2 hrs (1.2 IFR)
I have family and friend in the Dayton area (not to mention an excuse to visit the U.S. Air Force Museum, with its unique collection of airplanes and artifacts) and visiting them took two days.
After that I was ready to head home, and launched into a typical hazy summer Ohio summer morning. But as I flew west, the weather got steadily worse. The first leg to Ottumwa was mainly VFR, but the second leg was anything but VFR—which was particularly annoying, as Flight Service had led me to expect broken overcast, but with a high enough ceiling to run VFR underneath.
When lower ceilings pushed me below 4000 MSL (and dodging around lower scud) I decided to bag it and air-filed for an instrument clearance. I asked for, and got, a clearance along the airway I was following (I file for those, even if I’m planning VFR, for just this kind of situation) for IFR to VFR on top—if not on top by 10,000′, maintain 10,000′ and report.
No problem, just set climb power and keep up the scan I’d practiced in Waukesha. I was in the soup at about 4,500 and kept climbing… Usually, as you climb up through the “soup” it gets lighter, letting you know you’re getting near the tops—but not this time.
I leveled off at 10,000 grumbling to myself. It was just solid IFR (fortunately, with little turbulence and no ice). I called ATC, gave ’em the bad news, and gratefully accepted the controllers offer of an IFR clearance.
When she asked for cruise altitude, I asked for 6,000 feet as I remembered passing through a layer on my way up. The layer turned out to be right where I remembered it, and left me with reasonable visibility ahead and to the sides, skimming over broken clouds below and just under a solid overcast. I was about as happy as you can be until I noticed that other folks up ahead were asking for diversions around a thunderstorm.
I reached for the Palm VIIx in my flight bag, remembered that hard reset, and cursed… Then I remembered a “Weather Tactics” videotape from AOPA’s Air Safety Foundation. It provided a lot of useful advice about weather flying—including the interesting tidbit that Air Traffic Controllers usually won’t volunteer weather information they can see on their scopes for liability reasons; but will give it if asked.
I waited for a quiet period on frequency and asked if there was weather on my route. The controller promptly said there was a level-III cell about 30 miles ahead. I asked for vectors around it, and was promptly given a 20-degree turn to the right.
Shortly after I passed the cell (which I could see in the distance between the layers) the overcast started to break up, and I wound up canceling IFR and landing visually at O’Neill, with just a few clouds in the distance behind me. A swim in the hotel pool (I highly recommend swim trunks and a towel as accessories when flying in the summer), dinner at a local restaurant, and I was in bed.
8/6/2003: O’Neill NE -> Rawlins WY -> Elko NV -> Modesto CA: 10.2 hrs (0.3 IFR)
That sounds like a long day, but notice that it was almost all VFR. The truth is, most of it was boring after all the IFR work earlier in the trip. There was some turbulence, not to mention headwinds (which is part of why it took over 10 hours).
The IFR was all at the end of the trip, when I flew into typical California central valley haze, augmented by smoke from one of the forest fires we seem to get every summer.
On the whole, a pretty good trip—and (like any trip that takes you out of your home area) a learning experience. If you live within a leg or two of Waukesha, Wis., I can’t recommend Greg Plantz and Proficient Flight highly enough—I’ve been looking for a similar facility on the Left Coast and have yet to find one (if anyone out there knows of one, please write and tell me)!
—JDR
John D. Ruley is an instrument-rated private pilot, and a freelance writer specializing in science and technology. He’s also a volunteer pilot for LIGA International (www.ligainternational.org), and past president of the Modesto Airport Pilot’s Association. You can write to John at jruley@ainet.com.
For More Information
AOPA Air Safety Foundation “Weather Tactics” Video www.aopa.org/asf/schedules/sib.html#tactics
Proficient Flight
proficientflight.com
