Laurie and I decided to take advantage of the good weather to get some flying time and look for furniture. We launched for Kewanee and Good's furniture at about 10 till 1. The conditions were severe clear with calm winds at the surface. Aloft, the winds were a little more brisk. I climbed to 6,500 so we could enjoy the clear conditions and get a better view. The view was gorgeous but came at the price of almost 30 knots ground speed. Winds at that altitude were almost exactly on our nose, varying between 25 and 30 knots. We never saw much above 125 knots ground speed even though we were truing out at a healthy 150 knots.
Our route crossed the Illinois River just NE of Peoria. We could see big chunks of ice in the water. There was quite a bit of snow left in this area as well. It made it tough to spot the airfield as we neared it. All the usual terrain distinctions that sometimes define airport boundaries were covered. It wasn't until we got within about 4 miles that I was able to pick the runways out of the white.
Before I go on, a word or two about radio etiquette. One of the drawbacks to flying on a beautiful day after a bout of bad weather is all the fair weather pilots who don't do a lot of flying during the winter take to the skies. And I don't hold this against them, but they're usually pretty rusty on the radio. Leaving the relatively professional environment of the approach frequency and switching to the CTAF for Kewanee I was greeted by a cacophony of static and interference squeals as everyone and their uncle tried to talk over each other.
In hindsight, had I waited until I was lower, I wouldn't have picked up so many airports, but still, some folks just don't know when to shut up. You've got the guy shooting touch and gos in the pattern somewhere that feels the need to use his entire five character call sign every time he keys the mike. You've got the gal who's flying into another airport and feels she has to unburden herself of every single intention she has at the destination in a single 15 second long transmission. And then, my personal favorite, the good ole boy at another airport who treats CTAF like a chat room and has to greet every familiar voice he hears on frequency. "Chet, that you? What's happenin'? We're just out enjoying the weather." Blah, blah, blah. Meanwhile I'm trying to fire off quick position reports in the middle of it all. Thankfully, I got through, but I had Laurie watching for traffic just in case the Chatty Kathys prevented me from talking to someone who needed to hear from us.
After we finished shopping we headed home about 5. The winds that dogged our progress on the way in were now on our tail. Level at 5,500 we saw a very satisfactory ground speed of 177. On the descent into Champaign I kept the power on and let the airspeed creep up. At one point we were seeing about 166 KTAS and a ground speed of 188. Yeah, it's cool. As the approach controller handed us off to tower, he told me to keep the speed up. As I found out later a Northwest turboprop wasn't far behind us. I held 140 indicated until about a 3 mile final and then started backing off. The arrival was further expedited by opting to land flaps up.I needed the practice and we had the runway to play with. Plus, it's fun.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
KCMI to KTYQ to KCMI - 1.2
This trip was a maintenance run to Indy Exec. I had a really small weather window to get it done. The day prior had been crappy and the forecast for the afternoon and next day was not good either. The goal was to get over and back before lunch so I wouldn't have to miss a whole day of work.
The temp at the time I fired up was in the mid 30's. Skies were clear over CMI, but METARs were indicating 1,700 ft. overcast at TYQ. This was in line with the area forecast which said the overcast layer wasn't supposed to be any thicker than a couple thousand feet. If there was any ice I wouldn't be in it long. And if the overcast layer looked any thicker (or wetter) when I got over Indy, it would be a quick 30 minutes back to CMI. I had an escape plan. If there's anything I've learned in my relatively adolescent flying career, anytime you fly in conditions where ice may be a possibility, make sure you have a way out.
It was only 7:30 or so as I taxied out but already things were hopping. Most of the Institute students were taking advantage of the same weather window I was to get some practice in. I had to wait out a few touch and goes before tower cleared me for takeoff. Once again I found myself pleasantly surprised by how eagerly Eight Delta Fox climbed to altitude. I really need to fly more in winter. It certainly makes me much happier with 200 hp than I usually am in mid-July.
It wasn't long after departure turned me on course that I began to encounter the thin overcast mentioned in the METARs. It began a little east of Danville and got progressively denser the further east I flew. Still, at just 5,000 ft, I was well above the tops so I wasn't too worried. Adding to my encouragement were the METARs I was seeing on XM weather that indicated the ceiling wasn't any lower than 1,700 and visibilities were still above 6 miles. As I came into the Indy area the cloud layer was fairly solid, but I was catching glimpses of ground now and then. Things looked good for a fairly easy ILS into TYQ. And sure enough, that's what Indy Approach told me to expect.
Since this was going to be my first ILS in actual conditions in quite a while, and I was flying solo, I opted to let George do the flying so I could concentrate on working with Approach. I was cleared to descend to 3000 which put me right into the top of the clouds. Zipping in and out of the cloud tops never gets old. It's the only time you really feel like you're doing 150 mph.
The closer I got to the final approach fix, the thicker the clouds got. There was still plenty of light inside so I didn't get too worried about a ton of ice accumulation. Prior to descending into the clouds I'd taken as many precautions as I could. I turned on the pitot heat, cranked the window defrost and pulled on the alternate air induction. Alt air induction is what you use if you think the normal induction is getting iced up. This usually manifests itself as a decrease in power or engine roughness. Roughness isn't as pucker inducing at altitude when you have a few thousand feet to sort things out. Engine roughness at just a couple thousand feet AGL, however, is a great way to get the adrenaline flowing. Hence I chose the preventative measure of using alt air before things deteriorated to that point.
As George rolled onto the localizer I was looking intently at the wings and windshield for indications of ice accumulation. The windshield was clear but I couldn't really tell if anything was happening to the wings or not. The white backdrop of the clouds against my white wings made it tough to detect any trace amounts. If I was going to be able to visually spot ice, I figured it would have to be pretty substantial before I could pick it out. To me, the wings looked clean and I wasn't noticing any handling problems or having to use any extra power. Right before I crossed the outer marker, Approach asked me to report the altitude I broke out. About 4 miles out I broke into the clear at 2,200.
I called Approach and reported the ceiling before canceling IFR and switching to advisory. After landing and shutting down, I hopped out and ran my hand along the leading edges of the wings and prop. There was about a 1/32 in thick layer of rime ice but nothing to write home about. Well, I am blogging about it I suppose.
As usual, Brian and the guys at Montgomery Aviation took great care of me and I was back in the air in about an hour or so. The flight home was pretty uneventful and the overcast that greeted me on arrival had become a scattered layer. About the only "trouble" was a slight headwind. But even with that I managed to get back home by noon.
The temp at the time I fired up was in the mid 30's. Skies were clear over CMI, but METARs were indicating 1,700 ft. overcast at TYQ. This was in line with the area forecast which said the overcast layer wasn't supposed to be any thicker than a couple thousand feet. If there was any ice I wouldn't be in it long. And if the overcast layer looked any thicker (or wetter) when I got over Indy, it would be a quick 30 minutes back to CMI. I had an escape plan. If there's anything I've learned in my relatively adolescent flying career, anytime you fly in conditions where ice may be a possibility, make sure you have a way out.
It was only 7:30 or so as I taxied out but already things were hopping. Most of the Institute students were taking advantage of the same weather window I was to get some practice in. I had to wait out a few touch and goes before tower cleared me for takeoff. Once again I found myself pleasantly surprised by how eagerly Eight Delta Fox climbed to altitude. I really need to fly more in winter. It certainly makes me much happier with 200 hp than I usually am in mid-July.
It wasn't long after departure turned me on course that I began to encounter the thin overcast mentioned in the METARs. It began a little east of Danville and got progressively denser the further east I flew. Still, at just 5,000 ft, I was well above the tops so I wasn't too worried. Adding to my encouragement were the METARs I was seeing on XM weather that indicated the ceiling wasn't any lower than 1,700 and visibilities were still above 6 miles. As I came into the Indy area the cloud layer was fairly solid, but I was catching glimpses of ground now and then. Things looked good for a fairly easy ILS into TYQ. And sure enough, that's what Indy Approach told me to expect.
Since this was going to be my first ILS in actual conditions in quite a while, and I was flying solo, I opted to let George do the flying so I could concentrate on working with Approach. I was cleared to descend to 3000 which put me right into the top of the clouds. Zipping in and out of the cloud tops never gets old. It's the only time you really feel like you're doing 150 mph.
The closer I got to the final approach fix, the thicker the clouds got. There was still plenty of light inside so I didn't get too worried about a ton of ice accumulation. Prior to descending into the clouds I'd taken as many precautions as I could. I turned on the pitot heat, cranked the window defrost and pulled on the alternate air induction. Alt air induction is what you use if you think the normal induction is getting iced up. This usually manifests itself as a decrease in power or engine roughness. Roughness isn't as pucker inducing at altitude when you have a few thousand feet to sort things out. Engine roughness at just a couple thousand feet AGL, however, is a great way to get the adrenaline flowing. Hence I chose the preventative measure of using alt air before things deteriorated to that point.
As George rolled onto the localizer I was looking intently at the wings and windshield for indications of ice accumulation. The windshield was clear but I couldn't really tell if anything was happening to the wings or not. The white backdrop of the clouds against my white wings made it tough to detect any trace amounts. If I was going to be able to visually spot ice, I figured it would have to be pretty substantial before I could pick it out. To me, the wings looked clean and I wasn't noticing any handling problems or having to use any extra power. Right before I crossed the outer marker, Approach asked me to report the altitude I broke out. About 4 miles out I broke into the clear at 2,200.
I called Approach and reported the ceiling before canceling IFR and switching to advisory. After landing and shutting down, I hopped out and ran my hand along the leading edges of the wings and prop. There was about a 1/32 in thick layer of rime ice but nothing to write home about. Well, I am blogging about it I suppose.
As usual, Brian and the guys at Montgomery Aviation took great care of me and I was back in the air in about an hour or so. The flight home was pretty uneventful and the overcast that greeted me on arrival had become a scattered layer. About the only "trouble" was a slight headwind. But even with that I managed to get back home by noon.
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