Landing on a Cloud that Flies?

Recently, I was able to accomplish the long cross country required for the commercial certificate.  It was a LONG day. 

As a reminder, this requirement means that you must be the only occupant of the airplane, that you land at a minimum of three points, and that there be at least 250 nautical miles separating two of those three points.  Of course, when one is actually going somewhere would be the best time to accomplish these tasks, but alas that was not to be for me. 

My trip for the day included a flight to Flying Cloud Airport in Minneapolis, Minnesota (KFCM), a return to Rochelle, IL (KRPJ) and then finally back to home base at DuPage (KDPA).  On the day of the flight, an AIRMET-T was issued for turbulence below about FL010 until about 50 miles west of my departure airport.  To make matters more interesting, the headwinds were out of the west at a solid 40 knots.  FUN!

To Flying Cloud

I took off from DuPage in VMC but on an IFR flight plan.  It was VERY cold that day, so I had no intention of spending much time in the clouds if I could avoid it.  Because the headwinds were a solid 20 knots faster 2000 feet higher, I filed for 4000 for the trip to Minneapolis.  In retrospect, I'm not sure I gained much.  That AIRMET should have extended to just short of the border of Iowa, Wisconsin and Minnesota, and the bumps were so big that I slowed to maneuvering speed.  I think that climbing and taking the additional headwinds would have been a wash with respect to ground speed, but far more pleasant a trip.  

The views of course were beautiful as I approached the Mississippi River:

These views never get old.  However, they do come close when your ground speed barely breaks 90 knots on a TAS of 120.  Just saying.  

As expected, Flying Cloud was severe clear and very cold.  I was initially cleared to land on 20L, but then was switched to 20R.  Turned out that 20R had a bit of ice and such on it, but I had a nice smooth landing just past the numbers (as expected).  Reminded myself to stay off the breaks and slowly increase elevator pressure to break.  

Total flight time: 3 hours and 25 minutes.  No wind time would have been 2 hours 15 minutes.  Sigh.  

Bet They're Not Jumping Today

I initially planned to park the plane and head to nearby Punch Pizza, a favorite of me and my psychology department colleagues for their AWESOME wood-fired pizza.  It's really my favorite place to get pizza, but time was ticking.  Instead, I taxied back to 20R and picked up my clearance to Rochelle.  I was off shortly thereafter and on my way to more enjoyable flight conditions and a rockin' ground speed.  

As you can see from the Aspen panel, level at 7000 at 65% power settings, I had a true airspeed of 135 and a ground speed of 170.  It hit 181 at one point with no intervention from me.  This was much more like it, and sort of made me feel better about my trip up. 

When I find myself off doing these kinds of things, I usually try to land at new places.  However, I have been to Rochelle a number of times as the Flight Deck is a favorite $100 hamburger stop for members of my flying club.  I needed to stop by as they were kind enough to donate a gift card for our flying club's holiday party raffle.  They have quite a large skydiving operation on the field, and I started to plan a strategy for dealing with this given that I was going to be landing on 25.  It would have been a beautiful day for skydiving... except that it was about 10 degrees outside.

I doubt they are jumping today.  A pretty quiet CTAF supported my conclusion.  A smooth landing and taxi over to the ramp. 

By the time I shut down the engine, I had been in the plane for about 5 hours and 45 minutes or so.  I was so ready to stand.  I got out of the plane and stretched, and then "Oh, crap!  That's cold!!!."  I was not happy about the walk over to the Flight Deck, but a kind man from the FBO drove me over there in a very warm car.

I was getting hungry, but it was also getting late.  This stop took longer than expected as there was a communication SNAFU that needed to be resolved.

Back to Base... in the Dark

By the time I was ready to return to DuPage, the sun had set and it was getting dark.  I back taxied to 25 and blasted off for home.  Although not exactly smooth, the worst of the bumps had died off.  Given that the short distance and KORD's Bravo airspace demanded a cruising altitude of 3000, I was grateful for that.  I dialed up DeKalb traffic as I would be passing just south of the field, and it was a good thing as it was a pretty busy pattern.  There were two planes departing and two more in the pattern when I went by.  I had to do some maneuvering as it seemed that at least one of those two departing aircraft was going to hit me.  One of them ended up behind me and I could no longer see it, which honestly was a bit unnerving because he seemed to be going the same direction and had one more engine than me.  That is unnerving, and I could not see him on Foreflight/Stratus either.  

I approached DPA and was cleared to land on 28, and I executed a very nice landing.  Couldn't really ask for better.  And since it was after dark, I could take a night landing.  Since I needed one more at a controlled airport this worked out well.  

Total flight time today: 6.3 hours.  Miles flown?  Roughly 580.  

Lessons and Training Status

I think the first lesson learned is that when things are pretty bumpy, it might be worth it to go ahead and request a climb for smoother air.  The trade offs might be worth it.  In this case, my need to slow to maneuvering speed may have made the difference in ground speed due to stronger headwinds at higher altitudes a wash.  I certainly would have been less tired from the bumps.  

Second, maybe it was not the best day for this flight.  I had a bit of "git 'er done-itis," and while that really didn't compromise safety in this case it did affect my comfort and a need to abort plans for a nice lunch.  I need to pay attention to this for when safety does matter.  

Finally, it's good to keep track of the fuel burn.  I was confident that I could make it on full tanks, and found myself marking where I was in my tank switching.  Upon landing, I figured I burned about 54 gallons.  Fuel truck to tabs plus the remaining capacity was 54.8.  Not bad.  

Not so much a lesson, but flying a plane without traffic really stinks.  I really don't understand why the FAA will not give any pilot with a portable ADS-B solution access to traffic information.  It is STUPID.  No, having that on board does not really absolve the pilot of see-and-avoid responsibility.  But it sure would help to have that information in those situations where the traffic has moved behind you. and improve situational awareness.  I sure would like more available to me than "I pray that guy sees me!"  

As for training toward the commercial, I'm getting close.  Updating from a few posts ago:

So, what's left?

- Tighten up all maneuvers

- Day VFR XC with instructor on board (at least 100 miles between two landing points)

- Night VFR XC with instructor on board (at least 100 miles between two landing points)

- Long solo XC as detailed above.  Sigh.  Would have been nice to knock that out last weekend.  

- 1 more solo night landing at a controlled field.  

- Study for the oral. 

Given the weather, I'm not sure that I can wrap this up before year's end.  It would be challenging.  However, I have made significant progress in some of the hardest maneuvers: Eights on Pylons, Lazy 8's and Chandelles are all to PTS or pretty darn close.  Steep spirals are close.  Stalls are all fine.  Need to tune steep turns, I think.  I tend to lose some altitude as I figure out just how much power to add.  Performance maneuvers are all pretty good.  I need to go fly the Arrow some more to tighten them up - particularly the 180-degree power-off accuracy landing.  

Soon, very soon.  

Out to Pasture - The Chanute Air Museum

I have been looking forward to the chance to take a flight down to Rantoul, Illinois (KTIP) in order to visit the Chanute Air Museum.  This airport was the site of Chanute Air Force Base from 1917 to 1993, and the museum memorializes the history of the base and the city.  Most interesting to me, it has a number of military aircraft (and even a few nuclear missile silos!) on display.  While it was fascinating to learn about all that the museum has to offer, it was also disheartening to see all the aircraft that had clearly seen better days.  Faded paint, corrosion, flattened tires, bird deterrents, and painted glass to protect the cockpits corrupted planes that were far from their prime.  To the staff's credit, there are active efforts to restore these planes so that they can be seen in their former glory.

However, this P-51 Mustang was absolutely awesome!  There was no one to ask if this aircraft was airworthy, but she sure is beautiful.

This F-4 Phantom II peaked my interest as my father was a mechanic on these while serving in the Marines in Vietnam (although this is the Air Force version).  He does not tell many stories about the war itself (common amongst veterans, as it turns out), but he does talk about the thrill of running one of these bad boys up to make sure that everything was operating properly after maintenance.  He also mentioned a few shenanigans about "re-assigning" parts from Navy planes.  

This F-15 is in need of some restoration, but I remember dreaming about flying one of these or an F-14 Tom Cat (thanks, Top Gun) when I was about 12.  Honestly, I still do.

The museum also has a T-6 Texan and a B-25 Mitchell Bomber that are in the midst of restoration, a Skymaster, a number of other fighters,  a C-130, many other vintage aircraft, and even a room full of old Frasca simulators.  The entire list can be viewed here, thought honestly I don't recall seeing all of these aircraft.  Makes me wonder if I missed part of of the museum.  Eh, guess I'll just have to go back. 

Over the City and Above the Woods

I was accompanied on this flight by my mother, who flew with me several months ago along the Chicago shoreline.  This day we would be flying in that Diamond Star DA-40 that I wrote about a few weeks ago.   I initially planned to take the school's G1000-equipped Skyhawk since I knew that she could get in and out with little problem (and I have around 70 hours in type), but because of bad weather Thursday morning it did not fly and thus had too much fuel on board.  I really need to work on my contribution to weight and balance.

I picked up my IFR clearance: cleared from Waukegan (KUGN) to Rantoul (KTIP) via vectors JORJO - BACEN - BLOKR - RBS - DIRECT.  Some of these are points on the JORJO1.RBS departure procedure.  This took us over the metropolitan Chicago area just west of O'Hare (KORD).  We saw plenty of aircraft coming and going from KORD and KMDW.  

Departing runway 5, I was turned on headings that essentially took me along the shore line of Lake Michigan until I was turned southwest.  Before long, we had broken through the clouds and were skimming along at 7000.  This was the first time my mother had the experience of going through clouds and being essentially VFR on top (except that there were more clouds and the overcast layer hardly made for a good horizon).  

As we began our descent into Rantoul, we had to fly an approach in order to come down through the scattered to broken layer.  Smooth sailing and a very gentle touchdown on runway 18 earned some accolades from the very satisfied passenger.  

Great Hosts

The folks at KTIP were great.  They set us up in a courtesy car, and suggested a nice little home-cookin' Mexican place called Sol Azteca.  The food was very good; seemed very authentic, tasty, fast and very reasonably priced.  I'd highly recommend checking this place out if you are out that way.  

After lunch and visiting the museum, we needed to spend a little time at the FBO while we waited out some storms that were passing through the Chicago area.  Soon, we were off and on our way back to UGN... maybe.  

The Pink Dot

Picking up my IFR clearance, we were cleared to KUGN via PNT - PLANO - OBK - DIRECT.  We had more time above and through the clouds as we motored along at 8000 MSL.  Based on my weather check at the FBO, I knew that I was going to need to fly an approach into Waukegan, and that I'd expect Runway 5.  I was all set up for that and briefing the approach by the time I crossed PLANO, and as I checked the ForeFlight weather from the Stratus I see the... dreaded... pink... dot.  UGN had gone LIFR due to fog with 200 foot overcast  However, I was flying a non-WAAS aircraft and there is only an RNAV approach into runway 5.  There was no point in flying this approach as the non-precision minimums were far higher than the weather.

I began considering my options when ATC advised me that two jets had just gone missed from KUGN.  Having checked the weather at other reporting stations, I decided to fly the ILS 16 approach into Chicago Executive (KPWK).  Although I had only flown this particular approach in a simulator, I am very familiar with this airport since I did my private training primarily from this location.  My approach and landing were quite solid, and we taxied to Signature and shut down to enjoy their very comfortable accommodations while I sorted out what I was going to do next.    

Deliberation

Sitting on the ground at PWK, I started to review options.  The organization from which I had rented this plane recently stopped operations at PWK, so this removed one option.  It was a 45 minute cab ride home, and I could have taken my wife's car and my mother to retrieve my car from UGN.  I finally got a hold of the owner of the school, who said that he had just come in not long ago on the ILS 23 approach with a slight tailwind but no problems, except that it was right down to minimums.  "Do you think you can do it?"  

I thought this over for 20 minutes, and decided that the two-axis autopilot that I had been using all day because of my low time in the plane could fly the approach - it didn't know it was dark and down to minimums, after all.  Though I had hand-flown the other two approaches, this seemed to be the time to allow the computer to earn its keep. 

Earning a Manhattan

We loaded up in the Diamond Star and were cleared vectors to UGN.  I briefed the approach on the ground because it is a VERY short flight (it was all of 16 minutes according to my track at Flight Aware), and I just wanted to hit the highlights for review in the air.  I had everything loaded up and ready to go when I was cleared for takeoff.  

I was a bit worried because PWK had been marginal VFR and then went IFR with a 600 foot overcast as I was preparing to leave.  There was a guy who really wanted to depart VFR to the east out over the lake, and the controllers were really trying to talk him out of it.  I hope they did because that would have been pretty high risk.  But I hoped that these changes did not reflect further deterioration at my hoped-for destination.  

Here was the METAR from my weather briefing: 

KUGN 042252Z 02004KT 4SM BR OVC002 18/18 A2996 RMK AO2 SLP138 P0001 T01780178

Now doesn't that look like fun?  I know some of you are jealous.  

As I am passed off to the departure controller, it occurs to me that I am flying in pretty solid IMC in the dark and flying my first night approach in actual IMC (although I have flown quite a few approaches to minimums in simulated conditions during night flight).  I saw myself as focused, but my mother informs me that she knew I was a bit nervous.  She was thrilled by the whole thing and really enjoyed the entire day of flying, but I had to tell her that I was pretty focused and needed a sterile cockpit until we were on the ground.  She understood and was quiet.  

"419AM, turn left heading 260 to intercept the localizer.  Cleared ILS 23 approach, maintain 2500 until established."  It's on, and I'm in the soup past my eyeballs.  Two miles from the final approach fix, I am passed off to tower and am cleared to land.  I peak up and see only clouds through the windscreen, but I am on path and glideslope, but a bit fast.  

Descending through 1600 for 930, I am able to see the ground.  At 1100, I am very happy break out and see the runway.  The controller then states that "things are clearing here if you'd like to circle to land on runway 5, that's approved."  Was this guy crazy?  It was pitch black out, I just broke out and he thinks I might like to circle to land.  Umm... no.  I'll take that five knot tailwind when I have a plane that can be stopped in well under 1500 feet and I have 6000 feet of runway.  "9-Alpha-Mike will stay with 23."  

Although I floated a bit because I was a bit fast, I had my third gentle and on-centerline touchdown of the day.  "Oh, yeah!" I failed to mention to my mother that this was the first time I had flown an approach at night in actual instrument conditions.  I did offer to send her home in a cab and I'd go by myself, but she insisted on going with me.  However, she claims to have not been worried the whole time.

Reflections

I have to say that I would have been far less anxious had I been flying my club's Arrow or Archer because I am so much more familiar and comfortable in them. The only part of the flight I've really spent time reflecting on was my decision to fly the short flight and approach into Waukegan.  It worked out well, and the flight was never in any risk beyond the typical risks of flying in these conditions.  But was we know, night IFR is the riskiest flight in which most GA pilots will ever engage.  Add to this that I was flying a pretty new-to-me aircraft and I had a passenger, and it seems that it was "pretty interesting" to say the least.  

However, I had been using the auto pilot all day because I was not yet totally confident in my ability to hold altitude solid in this plane.  I always use it while briefing an approach or doing some other task with high cognitive demands.  So although I prefer to hand fly most of the time, this last flight was not the time to decide to give it a go (although as I mentioned above I hand-flew the other two approaches).  It obviously worked out just fine, and fortunately I was overall pretty well practiced in approaches and night current.

 

First IFR Cross Country: A Wealth of Experience

As you know if you've seen my postings recently, I passed my instrument check ride on July 19.  On July 22, I loaded up the family in our club's Piper Arrow for a bit of vacation in what turned out to be a daunting but gratifying experience.  Our first destination was to be in western Pennsylvania so that the Banana and the Boy could get some time with grandma and grandpa. 

Earning my Keep

As is my custom when I intend to fly, I was nearly obsessively checking the weather for days prior to our departure.  The forecasts for that day called for a nice cloud layer I could punch through as we departed KDPA, and marginal VFR due to precipitation and low ceilings through Ohio and Pennsylvania.  There was a general risk of isolated thunderstorms, but that has been true just about every day in July.  Seemed like it was a good thing I had that instrument ticket after all.  So, off to the airport we went. 

After loading up and all the careful rituals to increase the safety of the flight, we were ready to depart runway 10.  Cleared for takeoff, I started my roll with a bit of excitement as the family was going to get to see some clouds.  Then, the noise: the sound of air as if the window was open.  I knew exactly what this was, so I brought the throttle to idle and announced an aborted takeoff due to an open door.  Despite all my ritual, I forgot to secure the door.  This was not the way to engender confidence in my newly expanded piloting skills.  After securing the door properly and assuring the Banana (who was holding down the right seat) that she would not have fallen out had the door opened, we again departed runway 10. 

As we began our initial climb to 3000 and switched to departure control, we were stepped up eventually to 7000.  Climbing through the clouds resulted in the sounds of wonder and excitement from the Banana and the Boy that I had been anxiously anticipating.  "This is COOL!" said the Banana.  "Wow!" yelled the Boy.  Mrs. Dr. Flying Shrink was not too sure about all of this, and read her book until we were on top of the cloud layer as trucking along toward Peotone VOR. 

Soon, we were turned eastbound and direct to our first stop: Wood County (1G0) in Bowling Green, Ohio.  It's a nice half-way point, and my previous experience with them was excellent.  Things were getting darker with a bit more rain as we passed over Fort Wayne.  By 30 miles out I had the weather, which was reported as relatively calm winds with five miles visibility and 600 scattered/2500 overcast.  By the time I was handed off to Toledo approach, I had the RNAV 10 approach loaded into the Garmin, the plate open in Foreflight, the radios all tuned, and a full brief completed.  Flying the approach, I broke out of the overcast layer about as advertised, but there remained additional clouds with which I needed to contend.  "Keep Calm and Fly the Approach." 

You see, this was far more excitement than I really wanted for my first real IMC flight as single pilot with my family on board.  It was not dangerous, just a mite unnerving.  At 400 feet from minimums the needles were pegged, but there was a cloud in my way.  I could see the taxiway just to the right of the cloud, but I am not sure that counts as having the runway environment in site.  Fortunately, the cloud was small and by 250 feet above minimums the runway was clearly in site.  Our first leg concluded with a gentle touchdown.

"Good job, Papa" came from the back seat as Mrs. Dr. Shrink expressed her relief.  I confess that this felt pretty good.

After taking on fuel, stretching, and making sure all the bladders had been emptied successfully, we were back in 81898 and preparing to depart.  An update of the weather suggested that we would continue to have marginal VFR weather for the same reasons, and that there were some building cumulonimbus clouds out there.  As I was cleared to depart, clearance delivery told me to climb and maintain 3000 and fly heading 090.  We were soon airborne once again, and we were cleared to 7000... but never turned on course direct to Clearfield-Lawrence Township (KFIG).  I flew this for quite some time, actually.  As I looked at the radar images on the iPad courtesy of that awesome Stratus that I had purchased just a month earlier, I could see that some pretty intense storms had unleashed, and that my heading was going to steer me north of them.  I hesitated to ask questions because I thought perhaps ATC new that I'd need to deviate around this anyway, and were just being proactive. 

As we approached Cleveland, the sky was dark, visibility at 7000 was maybe five miles (but looked like grey nothing with no real horizon), and we had clouds below us that were on the border between scattered and broken.  I could see the ground or the lake quite often, but I also flew over, under and through a lot of clouds.  Just as I was about to start asking questions, the controller asks "Arrow 81898, please confirm that you are direct FIG."  I confirmed this was the plan, but that I had been instructed to fly 090 upon departure and was just preparing to ask him about when that was going to change.  "That's a great question.  I don't know why you were given that, but you are cleared direct Clearfield."  After altering course, I checked the radar picture again and saw that I would be well clear of that storm. 

All was going well, and I was handed off to Youngstown.  I had the approach plate open for Clearfield for the RNAV 12 approach since the winds were fairly calm but favoring 12.  The METAR from Foreflight suggested that ceilings were plenty high for me to circle to 30 if that made more sense, but of course I was going to burn less gas going into 12.  Then, I zoomed out to see the remainder of my flight path.  "Oh, crap."  This was not the most welcomed expression in the cockpit. 

The radar picture showed a small but quite mighty thunderstorm right over top of DuBois, which was directly in our flight path.  There was another cell to the south as well.  I had just gotten the updated picture, so I started reviewing my options.  Clarion County (KAXQ) was about 25 miles away, and would require some aggressive set up.  I wanted to see a refreshed picture before I made a final decision.  While I waited,  I got the weather, selected an approach, set up the radios, and briefed the approach.  I did not like the new picture any more than I liked the old one, and I advised Cleveland Center that I wanted to divert to Clarion due to en-route thunderstorms and that I wanted to fly the RNAV 6 approach. 

Our decent was aggressive and I was flying much faster than usual, but I had done this many times before with my instructor on board.  I instructed Ms. Dr. Flying Shrink to text my mother to let her know that we had to divert and that I would explain on the ground.  I also let her know that everything was fine except for storms.  At the intermediate approach fix, I configured the plane for a 90 knot approach speed - gear down, flaps 1, full RPM and 22 inches, lights, fuel pump.  By the final approach fix, we were ready for our smooth decent and gentle touchdown on a somewhat wet surface. 

Two hours.  We sat around and tried to entertain the kids for two hours while the storms passed and eventually dissipated.  The lone soul at the FBO was a kind man who stayed way past when he was supposed to go home so that we had a dry place to rest while the weather cleared. 

Though the rain continued, the storms were gone and we were high tailing it because another storm was 90 miles away from our route again.  The flight to KFIG from there was uneventful.  I was high on the RNAV 12 approach as it was a series of step-down fixes rather than an LPV, and I underestimated how quickly I had to descend.  No matter.  The Arrow does great with the chop and drop method, and by 1  mile final was on glide path, on airspeed, and stable - with the airport in site.  5.4 in the log book for that day, plenty of actual instrument time, and three approaches.  Not too shabby.

The Next Day

The next day, Mrs. Dr. Flying Shrink and I headed off to Princeton, New Jersey (39N) for a day of rest and alone time before going to meet friends.  The weather was Marginal VFR (like barely) at KFIG, and was better in Princeton.  After snuggling the Banana and the Boy for a few more minutes, we were off and airborne.  It was not long before we were working our way up through the clouds.  We broke out and had a nice clear ride for much of the way.  We had some clouds to fly through that turned out to be somewhat turbulent.  Just as I was entering one of them, I was given a frequency change.  That was some fun multitasking - aviate first, tune radios later.  About 10 minutes later, I was given a route change and needed to copy and program the GPS.  This time, I told the controller to standby because I was in a bumpy cloud.  Autopilot engaged, which reduced the workload a little. 

I was sent to the Solberg VOR, which completely screwed my my approach plans.  Recalling that there was a VOR-A approach from the north into 39N, I pulled it up and to my pleasure found that it originated at this VOR.  Perfect.  I tuned radios, identified the VOR, and briefed the approach so that when I was handed off to New York I would be ready.  I was flying through the clouds, so an approach was required.  I was pleased with how I flew this approach, but was easier than the day before as I broke out 1800 feet above the ground and a few miles from the field.  I did require a go around because I was too high and figured discretion was the better part of valor here. 

Queen City

After a nice day walking around the university area and staying at an Inn located in a house built in the 1760s, we were back to the airport.  A check of the weather showed forecasts that suggested a VFR flight was possible for our travel to Allentown -Queen City (KXLL).  "But I'm instrument rated and CAN file an IFR flight plan, so I will."  I complained bitterly about the route was given, and the goofy change made that my GPS programming skills did not like.  Just as I was questioning the wisdom of the IFR plan, I noticed just how low the cloud layer really was.  It turned out that I had even more cloud time and had to fly an approach into XLL was well.  The bummer about this was that the only approaches into Queen City are from the west. 

Winds were gusty and favoring 33, but there was a note that circling south of runway 7 was not authorized.  "Well, why ever not?"   As I finally broke out of the clouds, I could see why - a sizable hill with towers to the south and west of the field.  "Oh, that."  However, I leveled off at pattern altitude and flew a normal pattern entry and landing on 33.  I suppose that one could argue that this was technically circling, but I argue that ceiling and visibility were such that flying VFR and a normal pattern made complete sense but I needed to fly an approach to get down from above the overcast layer.  At 700 feet AGL, it did not make sense.  

The Long Journey Home

Sunday morning, we got up and KXLL was solid IFR.  That was not a surprise to me but I wanted to see things open up a bit before taking off.  Always study those alternative minimums.  Winds were favoring departure on 15, which was not authorized.  It would have to be runway 7, but there was a specific departure procedure about which I took notes so as to remember - there were those nasty towers out there, remember?  

I decided I wanted to climb out at best angle, which took some getting used to and monitoring.  I got a bit slow, which raised my pulse considerably.  Reduce the pitch angle, man.  It was solid IFR for quite awhile until we broke out above the overcast layer.  An approach to DuBois might not have been needed had I been able to get down to the MEA.  Flying the approach to 25, the tail was skimming the bottom of the clouds by the intermediate fix.  

We picked up the kids and had some lunch before departing to Wood County.  I figured out why it is so important to cancel your IFR flight plan.  I sat for 10 minutes with the engine running while I waited to depart because there was a flight out there that should have landed but had not cancelled.  I called for this aircraft on the CTAF, but no joy.  However, it was the United commuter that I had seen land and taxi to the terminal building.  Sigh...  

We were finally off, and things were pretty bumpy.  Things were calm at 5000 and the controller allowed us to stay there, but eventually we were moved down to 4000.  It was a trade off as the clouds were a bit turbulent and we were not going to get above them comfortably.  Things were a bit turbulent at 4000 as well. 

A visual approach into Wood County and a smooth landing.  We had to wait a bit as the fuel pumps were a happening place with some folks on the field and some transient traffic flying a Cub or Cub-a-like aircraft to Oshkosh.  They ended up departing ahead of us.  Now, that had me worried because that thing motors along at about 80 knots and I would hit 130.  Since it had no transponder, I knew that ATC was not going to see them.  I tried to raise them on the radio (they had a portable) but that did not happen.  I watched like a hawk for about 15 miles, and was then satisfied that I was now past them.  

The flight to KDPA was relatively uneventful, but I can say that I was VERY happy to touch down on 28.  It had been about 614 nautical miles and just over 7 hours flight time.  We had some nasty head winds that gave us a ground speed of about 100 knots on a TAS of 130.   My longest day and distance of flying to date.

Important lessons taken away from these flights

1.  The experience of being dumped on an approach or executing them in a rapid-fire succession is very good practice, but it is not how I found myself operating on any of these flights.  I took my time, set things up as early as possible, and briefed approaches twice as I usually had that luxury. 

2.  If something seems strange from the controller or an instruction that results in you getting back on course is not forthcoming, ask questions.

3.  It is hard to sit here after diverting and second guessing my decision, but I think that a review of my decision making is in order.  First, it was a perfectly reasonable and acceptable decision to land and sort it out on the ground, even though that meant sitting around for over two hours.  Few people have died from making the very conservative decision.  However, I wish I had discussed my situation with the controller or had a conversation with Flight Watch before diverting.  My thought process was that I had storms in my way. diversion south was out, and under no circumstances could I justify trying to thread that needle with ADS-B weather.  But I might have been able to go north, and even perhaps go far enough east to fly an approach to 30 and circle if an approach to 12 was not an option.  If it was good enough to circle going into 12, then it was probably good enough to circle from 30.  While I might have gotten confirmation that my decision was the right one, I might have had another option that I did not consider.

4.  I have this idea that I should just fly through clouds because I'm a rated and current pilot on an instrument flight plan.  While true, some clouds are fun and others... not so much.  It really is ok to request a deviation.

5.  Things just take longer than you plan them to.  

6.  I want to use the autopilot less.  I found myself using it quite a bit particularly in the clouds to add a margin of safety.  I can't say that this is bad, but I want to keep my skills sharp and sharpening.  I try to use the autopilot only when I need to reduce my workload as I prepare for an approach.   

7.  Communicating with my family is helpful.  I received feedback that I get a very intense look on my face at certain points: landing, flying an approach, or in the clouds.  It's hard for my family to know if I am just needing this much focus (yes!) or if something is wrong.  I suppose that means "managing anxiety" comes with being pilot in command. 

On a final note, with this flight I crossed over 100 hours for the year.  I was stoked about that because I already met my yearly goal, and it was only the end of July.  Good thing... December is coming. 

First Trip with the Family

Over Memorial Day Weekend, my family packed up the club's 172SP and headed for a little getaway to the Cincinnati area.  Mrs. Dr. Flying Shrink and I earned our doctoral degrees from the University of Cincinnati, and during our time there we made a number of friends that we have not seen in quite some time.  It was time to show why we fly... it's more than just buzzing around and eating pancakes (though that is fun, too).

The first interesting change was my need to dictate strict requirements on what could be taken into the plane.  Usually it seems that we are packing for a mid-sized platoon, but this time we had to keep it reasonable.  There is only so much physical space back there, and then of course we had weight and balance issues.

Speaking of weight and balance; I figured this based on the Skyhawk fueled to "tabs."  We were well under max gross and were good to go with a more aft than usual C.G., but comfortably within the envelope.  Despite the club rules about filling to tabs unless the next pilot specifically requests otherwise, someone filled the darn thing completely.  This put us about 10 pounds overweight, but by the time the long taxi and run-up were completed we should be fine.

Trimmed for "take off," I start the roll... and the plane lifts off at about 45 knots.  Ummm... that's not supposed to happen.  There are certain words and phrases that are unwelcome when flying with one's family, but one of those slipped out.  Nose down elevator, fix the trim, accelerate in ground effect and then away we go.  3SP was now behaving herself, thank goodness.

"Are we there yet?"  "How much longer?"  Yeah, I heard these two questions repeatedly from about 15 minutes from take off until 10 minutes before touchdown.  But, the flight down was absolutely beautiful in nice, smooth air until about 15 miles from Warren County Airport (I68).  Just got a bit bumpy as we made our descent.  We had some interesting winds - gusty and shifting direction, but my touchdown was smooth and on center line.

We got tied down and I asked for fuel to those tabs.... sigh.  More on that in a minute.  Our time in Cincinnati was nice - visiting some old haunts and enjoying old friends.  Of course, we had to have Graeter's Ice Cream.  If you've not had it, you need to get to that area and get some.  We are able to get it in pints here in the Chicago area, but it's not the same as being dipped out at the store.

Saturday had me periodically checking the weather because some nasty convective activity was forecast for our scheduled return time.  By 9 pm, I announced that we were leaving by 9 am so that we could make it home.  When the alarm went off, Ms. Shrink asked if we had to leave so early.  "Honey, we have two choices.  We can leave early, or we might not get home today.  Looking at Monday and Tuesday, we might not get back then either."  Since my mother was coming in for a visit with the grandchildren the following day, sitting in Cincinnati until Wednesday just did not see prudent. In fairness, this was merely token resistance.  Ms. Shrink has come to understand and appreciate PIC authority and responsibility. 

Pre-flight.  Everything looks fine, except... full fuel.  I am 97% sure I asked for the tabs but it didn't really matter now.  I set the trim much more nose down for the takeoff roll, and the plane still popped up early.  But, at least it was rotate speed this time.  A little nose-down elevator until Vx and then away we went.

Are we there yet?  No.

I was watching as nasty things seem to be brewing to the west and somewhat south of our position.  Although I was talking to ATC, I also continually checked the weather observations (on the radios the old fashioned way) to make sure that the observations matched what I was seeing in my direction of flight.  As I dialed up Kankakee (KIKK; about 35 miles from my destination), I heard a few terms that I did not like - lightening strikes southeast of the field.  As I checked to Flight Watch for a more formal update, someone else was getting the same information and going to the same destination - and things looked good.

Landed without incident or problematic weather.  Within several hours, the picture changed substantially.  Leaving early was a good call.

Seems the family is starting to see the benefits of being able to fly places, which is great.  My children complain much more in the plane because there is far less entertainment available (e.g., DVD player not on board). 

A Sad Trip... and an IFR training update.

A Sad Flight...

As some of you may know, I have been itching to fly to DuBois-Jefferson County (KDUJ) because it was built on my paternal grandmother's parents' farm.  April 27 provided me the opportunity, but unfortunately flying was the only saving grace of the trip.  My maternal grandmother died a few days before, and it was her funeral that prompted the trip.

Initially, I had planned to depart on Sunday April 28.  However, the forecast weather between Chicago and there was forecast to be MVFR to IFR pretty much the entire day.  After scurrying about, securing an aircraft, and reworking my flight planning, I was airborne and hugging the Chicago shoreline by 1745z a day early.  Once clear of Chicago's Bravo airspace - a place into which few VFR aircraft are permitted to tread - I climbed to 7500 MSL and settled in for the next few hours in the Skyhawk.  Only the foolish do not talk to Chicago departure on this route as it is very near Midway's (KMDW) approach/departure path.  My flight was uneventful to Wood County (1G0), although that pattern was very busy with Bowling Green flight students and favoring the shorter runway 18.  Sweet landing with a flair over the numbers.  The young gentleman who worked my plane was very helpful, and I can't say enough positive about this airport.

After addressing all the issues that necessitate a stop along with a few text messages to family updating my projected arrival time, I was back aloft and smoothly cruising about at 7500.  Hearing "cleared through the bravo airspace" is such a strange phrase to me since it never happens in Chicago, but was welcome since it meant no deviations around Cleveland.  I crossed just about 5 miles south of Hopkins (KCLE), which was interesting.

Approaching KDUJ, I began listening to the weather only to be reminded why I hate airports with only one slab of concrete or well-tended turf.  The winds were shifting between 80-degrees off favoring runway 7 and 80-degrees off favoring 25, and were 12 gusting 17.  Great.  If landing half-way down the runway is good, then I did great.  Not my finest hour and was seconds from the go-around when the mains touched down with plenty of room to slow (along with the wicked upslope on the departure end).  Got myself out of the way with just a few minutes to spare for a United commuter to come in.

Coming back to Chicago on Tuesday turned out to take a lot longer than I hoped for.  I sat under marginal VFR weather most of the day.  I had made provisions for leaving a day later if that was required, though my family was certainly ready for me to be home.  At 3 pm ET, the weather seemed ok and my mother took me to the airport post haste.  I saddled up and was airborne by 4:15.  I had to plan a bit south because there was some nasty, stormy, convective crapola over Detroit, and I was not interested in flying through it.  I also took quite a while to get to 4500 because of the clouds.  I actually tried to climb over them because they were scattered and I could see the clearing, but at 6500 I still was not quite high enough.  Back down...  About 1:45 to Findley (KFDY), where I touched down beautifully at about 6:15.

Findley was deserted.  Not a soul in sight.  Valuable lesson - if you're going to select a stop, make sure that there are either self-serve pumps or someone there to fill your tanks.  Since I was totally full upon leaving KDUJ, I knew that I would make it home with about 90 minutes of fuel to spare.  Legs stretched and bladder emptied, I was again en-route to KPWK.  As I turned toward the west in my climb, I was totally blinded by the sun.  Not to panic... got enough instrument training to work though this temporary problem.  Then, I noticed something... my rate-of-turn coordinator was inoperative.  I can't say when that happened, but I can sheepishly admit I did not pre-flight it either coming or going. Bad instrument student and I'll never do that again.  Fortunately, I have done some partial-panel work and knew about how much bank I needed to complete a standard rate turn.

As I approached the Chicago shoreline, I expected South Bend to hand me off to Chicago approach for the last few minutes of my flight.  Another quirk of Chicago is that they do not like to accept VFR flight-following hand-offs, and I was reminded of that with the ever-popular "squawk VFR" instruction.  However, calling up approach quickly reestablished flight following.

Approaching Chicago Executive was "entertaining."  It was unexpectedly busy for 7:30 in the evening, and the winds were "delightful."  Although I touched down a bit harder despite than I would have liked, the gusty, squirrely cross-winds made this a few notches above acceptable

This qualifies as my longest cross-country to date: 411 nm PWK-10G-DUJ

4-27  C-172SP N378MA  KPWK - 1G0-KDUJ  4.5 hours
4-30  C-172SP N378MA  KDUJ - KFDY - KPWK  4.1 hours




IFR Training Update

I have also been trying to get solid IFR training and other hood time ever since the weather became "good enough," with my most recent flight being this morning.  A few thoughts on this:

• I have 17.5 hours simulated and 1.5 hours actual instrument time
• 17 instrument approaches
• I am told we have covered everything in the syllabus except DME archs - Flight planning, holds, approaches, flying with and without the autopilot, precision and non-precision approaches, radio work, partial panel and other things to be sure. 
• I have been oscillating between our club's Archer and Arrow, though I am hoping to just fly the Arrow from now until the check ride.  This has made some things rather interesting - like I have a heck of a time holding proper altitude in the Arrow.  These two planes are somewhat similar, but switching out the the Arrow after it's trips to the Bahamas, the avionics shop for a sexy Aspen, and an annual has been an adjustment.  Since this is a complex plane, it requires some additional thinking that I'm not used to.  
• Critique of today: not bad.  We had some bumpy, gusty nonsense but I flew three approaches and two different holds relatively well.  My last approach (ILS 2L at KDPA) was quite nice overall, although when my instructor removed my foggles to announce I had in fact found the runway, I lost the glideslope as a transitioned to visual.  I am told this problem is common.  I was pleased that I was doing a lot more multitasking (e.g., pretty good hand-flying and briefing approaches) and just need to keep working to sharpen, tighten, build fluidity, and drum the 5 T's into my head.  Staying above the MDA would also be a good idea...
• King ground school complete and I'm studying for the written.  I'm a recovering graduate student, and perfectionism is an important personality trait when pursuing a doctorate. 

The Banana and The Bomber

On Friday, August 31 my children were both off and had not yet started school.  Of course, the Banana had been bugging me to go flying again and this seemed like the perfect excuse.  We had a fun day in store.

We arrived at KPWK and as usual did a diligent pre-flight of the DA-20 that would serve as our flying carpet for the day.  During the rituals, the Banana discovered the stall horn and was amused as she made it squeak a number of times.  "Don't suck in any bugs!" I warned her, but she was undeterred.  "If you want, I'll show you what that does while we fly."  Intrigued, she helped remove chalks and plug in her headset in order to expedite our process.

We departed KPWK, and maneuvered around the Chicago Bravo airspace to head west toward Rochelle (KRPJ).  Somewhere abeam DeKalb we came across a large open quarry, which served as a great spectacle for our steep turns and some nearby ground reference maneuvers.  These were "cool," I'm told.  On a personal note, my performance was adequate and probably to PTS but frankly I could have done better.  As we climbed back up to altitude I asked the Banana if we should see what that horn was all about.  She agreed, and I talked through a power-off and then power-on stall.  She squealed with delight and amusement.  After all of this play, it was topped off with the Banana getting a chance to keep the plane straight and level as well as making some turns.  She was much more game this time around.

Back on course for RPJ, we made all our appropriate radio calls as I overflew the field to be sure of the wind direction.  Two planes were there to take off; one had back taxied on 25 and the other decided to take it from the junction.  As I was trying to join the left downwind, these two turkeys began arguing about two planes on the runway at the same time.  I got pretty angry as they were causing a safety hazard while they argued over one.  The Banana got scared as she misread my anger for fear, and asked several times if we were going to die.  "No, honey.  It's just that these two guys want to argue about safety but are making our flight unsafe.  When you fly, don't do that."  I was able to get my base-turn call in, and was about to ask them to take it off frequency but they quieted down.
Our landing on 25 was very nice, and we shut down and went hunting for lunch.  Apparently, the restaurant on the field is not exactly open yet; a small fact that one would not have discerned from the website at the time.  Sigh.  Fortunately, the fine gentleman at the airport set us up with a crew car, and we headed over to Eddi's for some decent fair.  The Banana had a hotdog and some fries, and I took care of an Eddi burger.  On a positive note, we saw a group of skydivers returning to the field.  "would you do that, daddy?"  "No... I can't see the point of jumping out of a perfectly good airplane." 

We lit the fires and headed a little further west to circle over Dixon Correctional Center, which is where I completed my post-doctoral residency in order to obtain the required hours to sit for licensure as a clinical psychologist.  It was funny to see the X-house from 5500', and the Banana had lots of questions about the experience.

Turning back toward the east, we set course for Lewis University (KLOT) to see about a bomber.  The Experimental Aircraft Association had their B-17 Bomber "Aluminum Overcast" on display.  Listening to the CTAF I could hear that it was a fairly busy pattern, though it had quieted down as we approached.  The Banana got to fly over top of a cloud, which would have made her day if she had not decided to take a little snooze.  It was fairly breezy at this point, but we had a serviceable landing on 27.  This approach is a little strange for me since there is a pretty big cavern to the east that was dug by the river.  Just like the water hazard in golf... not in play.  But it was a little unnerving.

The B-17 was a BIG success with the Banana.  She was absolutely amazed by this machine and spent quite a bit of time exploring the various aspects of it.  We went through the inside of the plane four times, and she was amused at me squeezing through the bomb bay walk way.  It was tight for us pudgy Americans!  We made sure to look at the cockpit (I'm sure that Garmin 430 was not stock equipment!), the various stations and particularly the gun turrets.  There was a man there who had flown in the flying fortress, and talked about being in the belly turret.  He was tall and it looked tight, which he assured me it was.

On our way back to PWK, I had initially intended to thread the needle between KDPA's class Delta airspace and the limits of the 1900 shelf of the Bravo.  I had the chart open on the iPad, but unfortunately the DA-20's 530 was not showing those boundaries.  BAH!  What's a poor boy to do?!?  I lost altitude to 1700', turned northwest, and called up KDPA tower to request a transition to the north.  This helped me stay out of O'Hare's way (always a grand idea) and to get set up for our arrival to KPWK.

Sigh... winds.  We were getting ready to have a storm, and the winds were letting us know all about it.  The winds were 240@9G17 as I arrived, which was different than the ATIS information.  I was given a straight in for runway 16, which initially freaked me out a bit.  Naughty winds and 80 degrees off the runway.  I took a deep breath and said to myself, "You can always go around and ask for 24."  As you may recall from my last post, I really don't like 6-24 at PWK but it would have been better.

Not necessary.  I had a beautifully stable approach and a nice smooth touchdown on centerline.  I yelled, "OH YEAH!" and Banana protested that I hurt her ears.  Sorry, kiddo but you do know what I mean now when I tell you not to sing in the microphone.  As we were packing up, the DPE who administered by PPL checkride came in.  I had to share this because I needed to tell SOMEONE who'd appreciate this victory.

Ms. Dr. Flying Shrink enjoyed our pictures and hearing about the day... except I got the third degree about these "stalls" that the Banana mentioned.   Tee hee.

Plane: DA-20-C1 N399JA
Time: 2.8 hours.   

A Hazy Trip to Michigan

Yesterday I took a flight from Chicago Executive (KPWK) along the Lake Michigan shoreline around to Benton Harbor, Michigan (KBEH), which was enjoyable as usual.  It was a very smooth day for flying, although the wicked heat and humidity made from quite a bit of haze that really disturbed my view out over the lake.  The words of my instructor rang through my ears when we did my night cross country... would not want to go through that without an instrument rating.

I did not take advantage of flight following on my way to Benton Harbor, figuring that I was staying low enough to be out of the way of any airliners that might be heading into ORD or MDW, but it turned out that there was a fair amount of traffic.  I did listen in to Chicago approach so that if I became the subject of discussion I'd know about it.

The haze did more than make for a less than ideal picture out over the lake, but also I could see that stuff I read about haze making objects seem closer than they appear.  One small aircraft that passed just 400 feet below me to my left seemed quite a bit further away, but the TIS probably was not lying.  It was a bit unnerving, but we certainly maintained adequate visual separation.  It also left me thinking that those reports I was reading where a bit deceptive, or that I have mistaken "CAVU" flying for 10 miles visibility.  The automated weather information for PWK, GYY, and BEH all said that the ceiling was clear below 12000 and visibility was 9 or 10 miles, but it sure didn't seem that way.

Benton Harbor was actually pretty easy to find, and though I was using GPS to aid in navigation I had my iPad charts open on my lap to verify my position.  It's a fairly nice airport, although I had an interesting situation.  I was making all the appropriate radio calls and had just announced and initiated my base-to-final turn for runway 28 when the Cessna that had been holding short of the runway announced his departure.  I repeated that I was on final and he stopped.  I was miffed and befuddled by this, and that probably showed in the bounce and go around that insued.  I didn't bother complaining to the pilot because it was an honest mistake, but it would have helped if I could have used more of my brain for landing and less of it for go-around planning and general frustration.  Fly the plane, Dr. Shrink... fly the plane.   My next two landings were pretty good, so I was happy about that.

After departing the pattern I picked up flight following from our friends at South Bend and headed back around the lake shore.  South Bend then told me to squawk VFR and that radar services had been terminated, but that I should contact Chicago Approach.  I did that thinking I'd have to ask for flight following again, but they were expecting me and assigned a new squawk code.

I said goodbye to the fine folks at Chicago Approach once I was over Northwestern University and Ba'hai Temple (very cool sight from the air), and managed to get it back on the ground at Chicago Executive, where the winds were squirrelly and I did need a go-around.   I was using 12 even though winds really favored runway 6.  If you've ever landed on 6/24 at PWK, then you know that this runway is interesting - 50 ft wide, a bit of a turn toward the south, in the midst of it, a nice "Dukes of Hazzard" jump in the middle, and if you're coming in on 24 a very displaced touchdown.  My last experiences with this were not ideal so I wanted to avoid it.  I had a reasonable landing on my second try, so I'll take that.

Nice day to fly, and I crossed the 100-hour mark with this flight.  I also added both a new airport and new state to my travels.  I love this stuff.   I hope the weather holds up as Ms. Dr. Flying Shrink and I are planning a day get away up to Door County. 

Flight: KPWK - KBEH - KPWK
Plane: C-172S
Hours: 2.4  (100.4 hours total time).

First Flight "Going Somewhere"

On Friday, May 11, I took my first flight "somewhere."  That is, it was the first time I got in the plane with a particular destination in mind and not because I was fulfilling some specific training requirement.  I lifted off from KPWK at about 8:30 in N378MA, a Cessna Skyhawk outfitted with one of those Bendix/King GPS systems that I have come to loathe.  I could not figure out how to input a flight plan, and that was annoying.  Not being particularly interested in spending more time figuring it out with the engine running and my wallet thinning, I elected to use the "direct to" function once I hit the Lake Michigan shoreline.  Once there, I set my first waypoint and called up Chicago approach for flight following.  Interestingly, I never managed to pick up flight following during my training but found it to be pretty straight forward. 

My first stop was KISZ - Cincinnati/Blue Ash Airport.  It seems that there are some rather controversial plans in the works to close this particular airport, and I wanted to put it in the log book before they did so.  My wife and I attended graduate school at the University of Cincinnati, and my initial plan was to return with a large payload of Graeter's ice cream.  This stuff really is the best ice cream I have ever eaten.  However, Blue Ash seems to lack an FBO with crew cars or ability to get anywhere.  Allegedly I could have rented a car, but I did not even try to figure that out because I was not going to pay a day's car rental to drive a 12 mile-round trip that would have taken less than an hour.  My emails to two of the FBOs on the field went unreturned.  Guess business was booming... except it was not.  While I was there I saw all of one other active aircraft.  Granted, I was there a short time.  I think I will have the store ship it to me instead. 

After picking up flight following again from KISZ, I was cleared into the class Bravo airspace on my way to KAID in Anderson, Indiana.  This was another first as Chicago's Bravo is so busy that they really don't want to deal with pesky VFR traffic if they do not have to.  Between KISZ and KAID, I was running parallel to another aircraft at the same altitude and speed.  KAID is very close to KMIE, which was the other plane's destination.  Normally this type of thing would have worried me since there is no such thing as a mid-air fender-bender, but since he was on the same frequencies as me I knew what he was up to and where he was going.

Once on the ground at KAID, I met my best friend from college, his wife, and two kids and then we had some nice conversation and food.  Now, this is a very good excuse to fly... hanging out with my friend and talking about stuff that matters.  I just need to work on getting my directions right.  As I approached KAID I stated that I was to the southwest of the field... except if you know anything about the geography of the area then you know I was coming from the southeast.  I didn't initially protest when I was given a strange instruction - to enter a right downwind for runway 18.  Odd choice, except it made perfect sense if I was coming from the direction I told the controller.  When I questioned the instruction, it was clarified where I was really coming from and the controller says, "well, that makes a difference, doesn't it?"  Ya think?  Already feeling sheepish, I didn't complain when he asked me to stay on a left downwind for Runway 12 to following a Hawker.  I had to extend my downwind so far that I could see my college Alma mater.  Guess that was worth it.

As I prepared to return to KPWK, I kept calling the tower at Anderson but was getting no response.  I pulled out my A/FD and confirmed that it was still supposed to be open.  Finally, someone was kind enough to tell me that they were closed for the day.  Dandy, please make a note of it in the A/FD will ya?  I rocked the wings a bit as I lifted off to "wave" goodbye to my friend and headed back.  It was a simply beautiful day for flying or whatever else might tickle your fancy. 

Today was also the first time I used my iPad for charts.  Gosh, was that a heck of a lot easier!  I hate paper charts with a passion though I certainly have them handy should lightening strike twice and both the GPS and iPad fail at the same time.  I found it easy to put the iPad on my lap and follow the string of reference points. 

It was a great time, and entered 5.1 hours in the logbook - the most I have ever flown in one day.  Good times.  Now I remember why I started this journey.