Lead Sled
Sitt'n on the throne...
- Joined
- Apr 1, 2004
- Posts
- 2,066
Twenty something years ago I was giving some instrument dual in a Cessna 172. Some severe unforecast "lake effect" weather (low ceilings, visibilities, and icing conditions) developed along the route of our combination night, instrument "round-robin" XC flight. The "out" part of the trip was uneventful - the weather was as forecast 4,000' ceilings with good visibility beneath, perfect conditions to allow an instrument student to get his first bit of actual.
The "back" part of the trip was another story. An unforecast winter squall developed and moved across our home airport and every possible alternate for about 200 miles. Ceilings and visibilities were running around 400' and 1/2 to 1 mile in blowing snow. Additionally, there was light to moderate icing.
Initially, I wasn't too concerned, it would be a good experience for the student to see just how quickly things can go "south" on you inspite of all the planning you do. (Sometimes Mother Nature just flat refuses to read the weather forecasts.) By the time we got to our home airport, the weather had dropped below the minimums for the VOR approach so we decided to go to our alternate which had an ILS. We were starting to pick up a bit of ice, but it was only about 15 minutes to the alternate so I wasn't too concerned. Again, I felt that this could turn out to be some very good experience for the student.
As we diverted to the alternate the vacuum failure light on the instrument panel illuminated. That was not a good thing! That was precisely not the time that I wanted to have deal with a vacuum failure. The student did a good job of partial panel flying, but after several minutes he started to get vertigo and he began to lose it. At that point, I took the airplane back and was flying "cross panel" partial panel. The winds started to pick up and the ride went from occasional light chop to light to moderate turbulence. The whiskey compass was all but unusable. At that point, I declared an emergency. What had started out a routine training flight with a couple of easily handled "issues" had turned into something altogether different.
As we weighed our options, it became apparent that the weather was going to get worse before it got better and we didn't have much more than the legally required fuel - waiting out the squall line in a holding pattern wasn't an option, besides we had started to pick up a bit more ice. I decided that it would be better to get on the ground as soon as possible - the weather was at minimums for the ILS. I tried flying the first approach, but with the turbulence and the whiskey compass dancing around I couldn't keep on a heading that allowed me to track the localizer. Basically all I had was the electric turn coordinator. I missed that approach and went around for another attempt. This time we had approach vector us to the inner marker and I descended on the glideslope. Just as I was getting ready to go around the runway lights came into view and we were able to land.
That was probably the closest that I ever came to dieing in an airplane. It was also the last time that I ever flew actual IFR in a single-engine airplane. There was a time when I would fly any well maintained, legally equipped single-engine airplane about anywhere and anytime (within reason). For me, those days are gone forever. As far as single-engine IFR goes, it never used to bother me at all. Now I would never even consider it unless I had a VFR ceiling underneath me the whole time.
LS
The "back" part of the trip was another story. An unforecast winter squall developed and moved across our home airport and every possible alternate for about 200 miles. Ceilings and visibilities were running around 400' and 1/2 to 1 mile in blowing snow. Additionally, there was light to moderate icing.
Initially, I wasn't too concerned, it would be a good experience for the student to see just how quickly things can go "south" on you inspite of all the planning you do. (Sometimes Mother Nature just flat refuses to read the weather forecasts.) By the time we got to our home airport, the weather had dropped below the minimums for the VOR approach so we decided to go to our alternate which had an ILS. We were starting to pick up a bit of ice, but it was only about 15 minutes to the alternate so I wasn't too concerned. Again, I felt that this could turn out to be some very good experience for the student.
As we diverted to the alternate the vacuum failure light on the instrument panel illuminated. That was not a good thing! That was precisely not the time that I wanted to have deal with a vacuum failure. The student did a good job of partial panel flying, but after several minutes he started to get vertigo and he began to lose it. At that point, I took the airplane back and was flying "cross panel" partial panel. The winds started to pick up and the ride went from occasional light chop to light to moderate turbulence. The whiskey compass was all but unusable. At that point, I declared an emergency. What had started out a routine training flight with a couple of easily handled "issues" had turned into something altogether different.
As we weighed our options, it became apparent that the weather was going to get worse before it got better and we didn't have much more than the legally required fuel - waiting out the squall line in a holding pattern wasn't an option, besides we had started to pick up a bit more ice. I decided that it would be better to get on the ground as soon as possible - the weather was at minimums for the ILS. I tried flying the first approach, but with the turbulence and the whiskey compass dancing around I couldn't keep on a heading that allowed me to track the localizer. Basically all I had was the electric turn coordinator. I missed that approach and went around for another attempt. This time we had approach vector us to the inner marker and I descended on the glideslope. Just as I was getting ready to go around the runway lights came into view and we were able to land.
That was probably the closest that I ever came to dieing in an airplane. It was also the last time that I ever flew actual IFR in a single-engine airplane. There was a time when I would fly any well maintained, legally equipped single-engine airplane about anywhere and anytime (within reason). For me, those days are gone forever. As far as single-engine IFR goes, it never used to bother me at all. Now I would never even consider it unless I had a VFR ceiling underneath me the whole time.
LS