A major part of piloting an aircraft is Aeronautical Decision Making, or ADM. It’s what the FAA examiners have been focusing on in the past several years when granting pilot certificates. It has been a good move on the FAAs part, because the general aviation accident rate has steadily decreased in recent years.
I had an opportunity to practice ADM today. After watching the weather carefully for the past 10 days, things were marginally clear for a flight to Plattsburgh NY for my work. Ceilings were overcast but high enough for a safe flight. Weather was due to pull in later in the afternoon, so an early start morning flight was essential.
I was looking at a very strong tailwind all the way up, and instead of plodding along for a 5 hour flight, my flight planning set it at 3-1/2 hours; my 87 mph airspeed with the tailwind was pushing me along at 142 mph over the ground at times, and my estimated elapsed time was 3 hours and 4 minutes.
A little slow getting off this morning, between needing to get fuel that I had not anticipated and trying to get the airplane un-stuck from the ground (it was frozen to the ground), I went wheels up about 45 minutes late; I had planned a 7:30 departure, but didn’t actually get going until 8:15.
I finally got the ADS-B receiver working in the plane, which shows me traffic in the area as well as almost-live weather radar on my iPhone or iPad. Note the term “almost-live”. Any pilot knows how dynamic the weather can be, and in addition to being ever-vigilant about other traffic, a close eye must be kept on the weather.
The “almost-live” was 8 to 10 minutes delayed, and a lot can happen weather-wise in that interval.
There was a solid band of precipitation over the Class-C airspace surrounding Albany airport. I am rated for Class-C operations but I noticed on the radar a clear spot to the west; the east was showing heavy precipitation. Albany tower was particularly busy so I elected to not transition through and head for the clearing.
As I was circumnavigating the Albany airspace the clearing had started to deteriorate. Outside temps were in the teens and I encountered some freezing rain. I started watching the wing carefully for icing and ice was just beginning to form on the windscreen. That is when the decision making kicked in, because I knew once that started, if I didn’t get out of it quickly, things could go south very quickly.
I set the GPS for nearest airport, which was about five miles to the east. It was Schenectady County airport, about 8 miles northwest of Albany International. I turned toward the airport and started a quick descent. The ice was rapidly forming on the windshield, obscuring my forward vision.
The standing rule of the day for pilots is aviate, navigate, and communicate, in that order. Although I couldn’t see directly in front of me, I did have some peripheral view out the side windows, and was able to control the airplane (aviate). I was on a course for the nearest airport (navigate). Next was to call the tower and ask for assistance (communicate).
The air controllers on the ground offer invaluable help to pilots, and too frequently their assistance is ignored, sometimes until it’s too late. Too many pilots have that false bravado of thinking they can figure everything out for themselves. I told them that my forward view was totally obscured and I needed to be vectored to the airport. They gave me a heading and asked if I could see the airport. I could see it out the side window but I was on a long base leg. The issues would arise when I turned onto final to get lined up with the runway.
I got to the point where it was time to make that turn to final approach and called the tower asking if they were going to turn me. The tower operator asked me what my intentions are (translation: do you want to declare an emergency?). I just asked him if I was lined up okay, because I couldn’t even see the runway. He said I was looking good, lined up, cleared to land, and again asked me what my intentions are.
Taildragger pilots frequently can’t see in front of them, so they employ a side-to-side “swish”, alternating turning the airplane and looking out each side window.
That was the last resort that I had before declaring an emergency. I used that taildragger swish (any resource you have is good) and started zig-zagging on my final approach and was able to bracket my approach and touch down gently and safely. Although I probably looked like a drunk pilot on final approach I was able to achieve what is called a great landing: one in which you can walk away from, and one where you can use the airplane again. Rolling out on the runway once on the ground I couldn’t see to taxi to the fixed base operator building, but the tower folks guided me right there.
When I leave to come home in a couple of days (when the weather is better) I’ve already decided to buy a couple of pizzas and a bag of donuts and box of coffee for those tower controllers…who, incidentally are working without pay at the moment…and thank them for being there and calmly dealing with the situation.
Once on the ground, I had another decision to make. Should I wait this little band of sleet out and continue my trek? The weather cleared up right past that three mile wide ribbon of sleet. Knowing that I was already rubbing against deteriorating weather at my final destination, I opted to tie the plane down there and rely on driving an Enterprise rental for the remaining 140 miles. Good thing, too, because by the time I got up to Plattsburgh I was in the midst of some pretty strong snow showers. At least the weatherman got that part right. And I didn’t want to take any more chances. I didn’t succumb to gotta-get-there-itis.
Morals of the story: as soon as you see the elements of a potential accident chain start to form, keep your head and immediately take action and use every resource available to you to ensure a favorable outcome. And it’s just as important to keep your head on a swivel in watching the fickle weather as it is to watch for other traffic while aloft. Always have a plan B and act decisively. I had already decided to abort my flight to the nearest airport the instant I saw the ice starting to form.
No emergency declared but admittedly it was close.