April 2005-
Okay, okay, what I’m about to relate to you doesn’t rise anywhere near the level of accomplishment of the lady who just set a new record for sailing around the world in 77 days, but it’s a real milestone for me. I have just flown my first night IFR flight totally in Instrument Meteorological Conditions (IMC) in N3736K, my over-invested-in PA-28-140/160.
Is this something you would do? Well, I didn’t think I would either, but everything came together in terms of fitting my assessment of risk, so off I went. This flight was part of a round robin from Marshall (ASL), in northeast Texas, to Austin, Texas (AUS) for a business meeting and return.
I had flown the first leg as two legs: Marshall to Waco, and then Waco to Austin. These legs were also flown on an IFR flight plan at night, but I didn’t consider them to be real night IMC, because I only had to fly up and down through a cloud layer with marginal VFR conditions below.
But the reason for two legs was that there was a question about the Austin weather, and, without on-board weather information, I opted to put down at Waco to re-check the weather before venturing south to Austin. This option cost me a half hour of flight time, but peace of mind – priceless. Also, I was able to check on my newly-born granddaughter while I was in Waco.
The flight from Waco to Austin was simple and fun. I had filed direct at 4,000 feet, but my clearance came back as “radar vectors to V17, Centex (VOR), direct, maintain 4,000, expect 6,000 ten minutes after departure.”
Since I did not have this routing set up in my Garmin 430, I elected to use the 430’s VOR/Localizer (VLOC) function, and so I set the course up on the CDI for old-time VOR navigation. Using this method, the 430 map only showed where I was, but displayed no course line.
Once established on V17, I set the 430 to navigate direct to the Centex VOR, thus providing a back-up navigation method to the primary VOR navigation on the CDI. As it turned out, there were few clouds below 12,000 feet and flight visibility was great.
Prior to arriving at Centex VOR, I checked the AUS ATIS to find arrivals advertised for runways 35R and 35L. Approach then told me to expect a visual approach to 35R and gave me a vector of 180 degrees, so, I reset the 430 to navigate direct to AUS, and selected the ILS 35R approach with vectors-to-final.
Then, AUS Approach Control gave me descents, first to 3,000 feet, then to 2,500 feet, then to 2,000 feet in an attempt to get me out of a cloud layer over the (east) Austin area. I finally broke out at 2,000 feet, found the rotating beacon at the airport about 10 miles away and was cleared for the visual approach.
A minute later, I descended to 1,700 feet to stay out of the sagging cloud bottoms (airport elevation is 492 feet). Having set up the Garmin 430 for the ILS 35R approach, I had great situational awareness even though I had yet to see the runway.
About four miles out, I found the runway and made a right base leg to a short final. Piece of cake, thanks to the Garmin 430! Back to the Austin – Marshall leg (a 222 nm one-way direct flight, or a six-hour drive).
I finished my business in Austin the next day at 7:30 p.m. (an hour after dark) and began my way back to the airport, stopping to grab a sandwich for dinner, fill up the rental car with gas, and then return to Trajen FBO at Austin Bergstrom. By the way, I really like Trajen FBO for their service and pricing.
The weather was IMC, with Austin reporting light rain, light northeast winds, a mile and a half visibility, a ceiling of 500′, and a temperature/dew point spread of nothing (13/13 C). The good news was that the freezing level was 8,000 feet and above for my route of flight.
The Houston area was taking a pounding this evening, and a pilot I met at Trajen told me that Houston Hobby airport was closed for about an hour due to thunderstorms. The FBO’s computer radar showed lots of “stuff” in southeast Texas, but my direct route of flight was just north of the bad stuff. Marshall had a ceiling of 1,000 feet, 7 miles visibility and light winds from the northwest, similar to that of other airports along my route of flight. Tops were reported to be about 6,000 feet, so I hoped to get on top for most of the trip at 7,000.
The forecasts for the Longview, Tex. and Shreveport, La. area (Marshall is between these cities) indicated that conditions there would be fairly stable until after 0600Z (midnight), with ceilings of 600 to 1,000 feet and visibilities of five miles or more with occasional light showers and mist.
I don’t have hard and fast personal minimums. I consider each flight on its own merits. For instance, I was pleased to be making the Marshall-Austin flights this week, as last week, I declined to fly from Marshall to Harlingen, Tex. (a 416 nm direct one-way flight) and back due to a low freezing level (2,000 feet) and a forecast of moderate icing in the clag, which was everywhere.
Instead, I drove some 20 hours round trip…definitely not my cup of tea. But, I don’t do icing and I don’t do thunderstorms, and I always want a reasonably safe “out” in case things don’t go as planned with the weather.
For the flight from Austin to Marshall, my “out” was Tyler Pounds Regional airport (as an alternate) with ILS minimums of 200 feet and a half-mile visibility. Tyler is about 60 nm west of Marshall.
Departure instructions from runway 35R at AUS included an initial right turn and climb on course (045 degrees) to 4,000 feet, with 7,000 feet expected 10 after departure. I entered the clouds while still climbing out over the runway.
Time to climb to 7,000 feet was about 13.5 minutes, with an early clearance to 7,000 feet, yielding an average climb rate of about 480 fpm: not bad, but at about 250 pounds under aircraft gross weight.
In spite of the pilot reports indicating tops of 6,000 feet, the general forecast of layered clouds to 21,000 feet turned out to be more accurate. Once in the clouds, the rest of the flight was in IMC.
At cruising altitude, when not in clouds, there was no light whatsoever outside of the windows—it reminded me of what it would be like to fly in a bottle of black ink. In fact, the only way to tell for sure whether or not I was in a cloud was the reflection (or not) of the tail strobe off of the cloud.
With a 15- to 18-knot tailwind and making a TAS of 116 knots at about 70 percent power (2,500 RPM), the flight went quickly. Some of the clouds were bumpy or contained updrafts, but keeping on course was not difficult with the 430, its associated CDI, and a DG with a heading bug, even without an autopilot.
Actually, the 430 map screen provides an excellent indicator of a deviation from desired course. I have the map set to display “track-up,” so the magenta course-line begins to lean to one side or the other if the airplane starts to turn. You simply turn toward the leaning line to correct the heading. The 430 is sensitive enough to allow detection of a deviation as small as two degrees from the desired course and warns even before the CDI moves.
Flight conditions ranged from smooth, to bumpy, to updrafts, and to light rain. Center helped keep an eye on the weather at my request. Ft. Worth Center stepped me down from 7,000 feet to 3,000 feet starting about 40 miles out from Marshall.
I selected the GPS RWY 33 approach into Marshall-Harrison County, as it has a MDA of 780 feet (434 feet above the airport) since the AWOS was advertising a ceiling of 600 feet with seven miles visibility and winds from 270 at 3.
The only other approaches into ASL are a VOR/DME RNAV RWY 33, with a MDA of 1,000′ (644′ above airport) and a VOR/DME-A that has a MDA of essentially VFR pattern altitude. A few miles from the IAF (FAXDO), I completed my landing checklist and configured the airplane to low approach speed (85 to 90 mph). At FAXDO, you complete a one-turn holding pattern and head inbound.
At FAXDO inbound, I called Ft. Worth Center, reported, got the frequency change, switched to CTAF, keyed the mike seven times to turn the runway lights up to bright and turn on the REILs, and reported my position to any other potential traffic (there was none).
From that point on, it was simply a matter of staying on course and descending as specified on the approach plate—no lower than 2,000 feet at JIPPU (five miles out) and then on down to the 780 feet MDA in a stabilized approach. I had carefully briefed myself about the missed approach procedure, as I felt there was a possibility that I would not break out, but when about a mile out at MDA, the clouds parted and a wonderfully lit-up runway appeared directly in front of the airplane.
The landing was routine. I was elated.
GPS approaches are truly the IFR gateway to uncontrolled rural airports. Compared with my travels of the previous week, I felt like I had truly experienced a “Magic Carpet Ride!” And, it was a LOT more fun than driving.
My last comment is advice on when to go and when not to go: based on your considered confidence in your equipment, weather conditions, your own experience, competency, currency, and physical/mental conditions, don’t go if you have that insecure feeling in the pit of your stomach or if you know it’s not right. In other words, “listen to your stomach.” This method has served me well over the years.
J. Gary Hendricks is the president of Texas State Technical College in Marshall, Tex. He holds a private pilot license with instrument rating. He has accumulated over 900 hours total flight time, over 100 hours at night and over 180 hours total instrument time.
