Monday October 19 1998 I had my first IFR flying lesson. The first lesson consisted of basic IFR operations, climbing, turning, tracking and intercepting courses, all "under the hood" while ignoring the outside view as much as possible. This is intense mental exercise, learning new skills, even more challenging to get right than my first few flying lessons.
After performing basic IFR maneuvers, we ended up near Forest Grove. We decided to find Cornelius Skyport, this time without benefit of GPS or Loran. John saw a windsock, but it turned out to be a 55 gallon drum painted orange. Shortly afterwards John spotted the airstrip. He asked me why I'd wanted to land there. Because it is there.
IFR training is not the same as primary training. The primary student is a "mind full of mush". Everything is new. The IFR student already knows a few things. The teacher-student relationsip is not as lopsided as it was in primary training.
After the flight John needed the secretary's help working the bank card entry system. I told him it was fortunate I'd turned off the GPS before the flight to keep him from crashing any satellites. With the ribbing I've been giving him I trust he is plotting his revenge.
I use reading glasses to read charts and approach plates. The first time out, I used Sporty's clip-on flip-up foggles attached to reading glasses. This kept me from seeing the instruments clearly. I attached the clip-ons to a plain pair of sunglasses to finish the lesson. A better solution was needed. Tuesday I made a homebrew pair of foggles by masking off areas of reading glasses with translucent Scotch Tape. We brought along a standard practice hood in case my homebrew foggles proved unsatisfactory.
John noticed a ladybug in the cockpit. He said it was a good luck charm.
For this second flight I put the foggles on before takeoff. He gave me the plane as we climbed through several hundred feet and I flew us to a holding pattern over the Newberg VOR. A 20 knot wind from the north and moderate turbulence made things interesting. After a few rounds of a holding pattern he "cleared" me for the ILS approach to McMinnville. This involved flying the Newberg 178 radial to the MINNE NDB, entering another holding pattern, adjusting altitudes, and capturing the ILS. Between the wind, turbulence, and my inexperience, I was all over the place. Or so it seemed. But with his coaching (prodding?) I got established, sort of, on the ILS (Instrument Landing System) approach to McMinnville. As I approached the airport he realized other pilots weren't "cooperating" with us, and broke off the approach. I took off the foggles and there was the runway, almost but not quite dead ahead. We turned to the right but stayed below pattern altitude instead of flying a regulation missed approach.
Flying under the hood in visual conditions creates problems for everyone. VFR pilots in the airport's traffic pattern, mostly students, have enough trouble dealing with planes obeying the traffic pattern. They are not used to planes shooting IFR approaches busting the pattern. The CFII/safety pilot must divide his attention between traffic avoidance and teaching.
At this point the lesson for the day was mostly over, so I decided we'd fly to the MINNE NDB so I could see what the installation looked like. (I'm an electronics boffin at heart.) The NDB consists of a small building not much larger than an outhouse feeding a modestly sized antenna not much larger than some CB antennas. We then decided to look for a small strip he had seen an airplane disappear into. Shortly afterwards I spotted a windsock. Indeed there was an airstrip not far from his house. He then had me home in on the ABATE NDB (the one used for Hillsboro's instrument approaches) and then track in on the 340 radial to ABATE. I'm used to homing with the ADF, and I've done a bit of tracking outbound with the ADF, but not tracking a specified radial inbound. This took some doing, given the day's wind. Tracking a radial with the ADF is not as simple as with GPS or VOR.
John asked if he could shoot a landing in Romeo.
He's had plenty of experience flying almost nearly everything except
182's.
I gave him the controls, slid my seat all the way back and
got out my camera.
The picture above was taken with a 20mm ultra wide angle lens
on short final to runway 02.
I held the camera behind my head with one hand to get the
widest view possible.
The gusting wind made for an interesting landing
and some good laughs.
The homebrew foggles worked about as well as could be expected considering my airplane's panel layout. The airspeed indicator is located on the very upper left corner of the panel, making it difficult to see the airspeed indicator without also seeing some of the horizon. (I fixed that by placing a checklist in the corner of the windshield.) A further distraction was the diffused image of the sun visor, which gave the impression of flying into a nasty dark thunderhead. I knew we were flying in clear weather but it took conscious thought to ignore what my eyes were telling me, and I don't have any CPU cycles to spare at this stage in my training.
Afterwards he discussed how my plane's old style panel layout may be interfering with my instrument scan. In the standard "T" configuration, the attitude indicator (artificial horizon) is top and center, close to the real horizon outside the windscreen and flanked by the airspeed indicator and altimeter. In my plane, the altimeter is off in the lower left corner, somewhat out of sight and out of mind.
We flew to Astoria for the next lesson. Of course John knew exactly where we were - he could look out the window. Astoria has a one of the few nearby VOR approaches that do not require DME (Distance Measuring Equipment). (My plane doesn't have DME.) With the GPS and Loran switched off my situational awareness was somewhat compromised. It took a few tries to get the Astoria weather because John gave me the wrong frequency at first. To improve my situational awareness I tuned the ADF to the KARPEN NDB about 12 miles east of Astoria.
On these early sessions John does most of the radio communications while I'm busy rearranging my neurons into new feedback loops. He pointed out an error ATC had made, reassuring me everyone made mistakes. That much I already knew.
As before I was somewhat "behind the power curve" but not quite so much as before. With plenty of coaching I flew the approach. I took off the blinders and the runway was where it was supposed to be. Traffic was in the pattern so we didn't stick around.
I flew VFR on the way back, and played a bit with the GPS and autopilot. We investigated the trim settings necessary for the plane to fly straight and level by itself. My airplane is slightly out of rig, so adjusting rudder trim to stay on course makes the plane lean to the left.
I put the blinders back on and tracked the ABATE beacon (near Hillsboro). I was so used to returning from Astoria by flying up the Columbia and cutting over the West Hills near Scappoose I thought we were north of ABATE instead of west, ignoring obvious indications to the contrary.
Again I let John land the plane while I took pictures.
A slight haze didn't help picture quality.
I did get a decent shot of the airport from left downwind
shown elsewhere.
Below: Short Final to Runway 30.
Friday the weather wasn't good enough to fly,
so we shot a few approaches into a virtual
McMinnville flying a virtual 172.
In the meantime I prepared a massively parallel
multiply redundant fail soft chart holder (left).
Monday was more hood work. I flew two vertically challenged approaches to Salem (SLE) where there isn't much traffic. I returned to Hillsboro using the VOR/DME approach, substituting his eyes for DME (Distance Measuring Equipment). The main goal of the flight was to work on accurately flying the airplane using the basic flight instruments (gyros, altimeter, etc.). I need to get the information I need from the instruments at a glance, without spending the afternoon decoding them. It's like reading time with the "big hand / little hand" routine. Some pilots who trained under the hood found flying in actual IFR difficult because their hood let them see too much. I've worked on my blinders to keep the outside view to a minimum. Perhaps my transition to the real thing won't be such a shock.
Wednesday saw more basic airwork on the gauges. We investigated seating positions in an attempt to find a suitable armrest to allow me to fly the plane with a light touch. My instructor has long legs that place his knee just below the yoke. That trick doesn't work for me.
Given my weight, my airplane is slightly out of rig, with the result that I must hold a slight pressure on the yoke to fly straight. If I use pedals or rudder trim to make the airplane fly straight without pressure on the yoke, the plane leans to the left. This is not making precise flight on the gauges any easier.
After the lesson I asked him if he'd like to take another shot at landing Romeo. He eagerly accepted. As he lined up on the approach we were somewhat high and fast. He seemed to be reaching for the flap control when we were well above flap extension airspeed and I voiced a loud klaxon call. He assured me he wasn't going to lower the flaps then. This time he made a smooth landing and we taxiied to Dirk's shop to have a number of items corrected.
Friday's lesson was scrubbed due to poor visibility. In the last weeks fog has formed overnight and lingered until the afternoon. Sometimes the fog stayed around until late afternoon. Last year this pattern of weather didn't appear until mid December. There are forecasts this winter will be colder and wetter.
Monday November 2 the weather relented and we had another lesson. We started with a simulated duck soup takeoff, purely on instruments. I needed a bit of verbal guidance to stay on the runway. Strange but true, an IFR rated private pilot can legally take off with zero visibility in some situations. It would take an emergency to get me to make such a takeoff. During the day's festivities we determined the plane still wasn't in rig.
On the way back John again had me use the VOR approach to Hillsboro.
I had a blond moment
and set the course of 346 degrees into the bottom
window instead of the top window.
The CDI (Course Deviation Indicator) refused to center.
By the time I sorted things out
I'd dropped the better part
of a thousand feet.
Not cool.
I decided the altimeter should be moved to where it was easier to see.
In several years GPS based moving map displays with GPWS, weather and
traffic overlays should be reasonably priced, and a
complete panel redesign will be in order.
For the meantime,
I decided to swap the altimeter
and the number two VOR indicator.
This should obtain most of the benefit of the standard "T" configuration
for minimal cost.
Wednesday Nov 11 I had my first experience flying in actual. The altimeter has been moved to a better location where I no longer have an excuse to ignore it. Unfortunately I'm still not scanning the instruments very well. I need to be able to hold course and altitude "in my sleep" to free up mental resources for navigation, communication, and problem solving.
This time out I didn't need to constantly wear the blinders. After some computer hassles (see below) I filed an IFR flight plan. Portland Approach amended it, changing the requested Farmington 3 departure to Canby 6. I was familiar with Farmington 3 but had never looked at Canby 6. Before the night was out I realized I could have profitably spent a minute or two more familiarizing myself with the Canby 6 departure.
I read back the IFR clearance, imperfectly, and taxiied to the hold short point for takeoff clearance.
Climbing up and through the cloud layer was cool. I might have encountered a wee bit of spatial disorientation ("vertigo"), but I was too busy flying the plane on instruments to take notes. A stronger case of spatial disorientation could be difficult to ignore.
The view outside was the stuff of fairy tales. Foothills and mountains poked up through the bottom layer of clouds. There was no sign of civilization. The sunset was colorful. A thousand Pentiums could not match this display. Sorry, no pictures. No time for that.
I practiced basic IFR maneuvers under the hood. (Actually I used a pair of reading glasses with paper blinders and translucent Scotch tape limiting the field of vision.) As the sun sank to the horizon I decided it wisest to return to base. There is always the chance of an engine failure, and I wish to avoid flying under conditions where a forced landing is unlikely to be successful.
With some coaching I followed radar vectors from Portland Approach to a holding pattern on the ILS approach to Hillsboro. Once established on the approach I was able to stay on the beam relatively easily by making small course changes with my feet and controlling descent with the throttle. I did not touch the yoke at all during this approach. We broke out at a thousand feet. He ordered me to keep my head buried in the instruments until we reached the 200 foot AGL decision height. When I looked up the runway was where it was supposed to be. I landed easily with possibly the softest touchdown I've ever accomplished in a 182. It helped that the air was perfectly calm.
After the flight I decided to practice basic IFR flying on my own PC. I Fired up Microsoft flight Simulator 98 (FS98). Bloody Microsoft 182 has an attitude indicator that's way off and no way to fix it. I don't know why Microsoft never bothered to fix the attitude indicator in their planes. If Microsoft Flight Simulator is "As Real as it Gets" the AI calibration knob ought to work. If a one man operation (X-Plane) can program a properly operating attitude indicator, why can't Microsoft get it right??
I didn't even get to the point of fighting the Microsoft Attitude Indicator for a couple of hours because I had to revert to an earlier version of ATI display drivers to keep FS from wedgeing FS98.
So I switched to X-plane, a different flight simulator. X-Plane is more accurate but lacks some of the fun aspects of MSFS. The latest and greatest X-plane needs OpenGL driver support. ATI's OpenGL drivers for their All-In-Winder PRO hang my machine. So I had to make do with "Classic" X-plane, an older version of the program. X-Plane Classic runs in low resolution, showing grainy gauges. The Directional Gyro blinked whenever the heading changed. When I took off the plane was hard to control. It was way out of trim and required strong input to fly straight. I couldn't get the plane into trim. A new plane was in order. Crashing the plane quickly gets me a new one, so I pointed the nose straight down. After several seconds X-Plane popped up a model window informing me I had overstressed the plane, and invited me to enjoy the ride down minus a few control surfaces. Picky, Picky.
Finally I got a plane that wasn't messed up. By the time I had taken off in an airworthy plane it was time to go to ground school class. I paused the simulation and switched off the monitor. When I returned from class Windows 98 had sent my X-Plane off to join Buckaroo Bonzai in the 8th Dimension. I had to reinitialize X-Plane.
Before I took off to execute the Canby 6 departure I failed to notice I wasn't at Hillsboro any more. A pilot flying a real airplane is not likely to make this mistake. During climbout I identified the Battleground VOR (BTG) but could not get a reading on the Newberg VOR (UBG). X-Plane has a feature than randomly fails parts of the aircraft so I wandered around menus trying to find out why the Newberg Omni would not come in. I could find nothing to indicate X-Plane had failed the VOR receiver on me. I started to check whether X-Plane had decided to fail the Newberg Omni on me. Turns out I had taken off from some airport up in Washington, and X-Plane decided I was simply out of range. (In real life UBG's 1200 foot height advantage over BTG might have carried UBG's signal farther northwest than BTG's signal.) Because I was unfamiliar with the Canby 6 departure (specifically, the location of the CANBY intersection) as well as the X-Plane HSI (Horizontal Situation Indicator) I didn't recognize the mistake for some time.
No wonder moving map GPS receivers are so popular.
My Skylane does not have an HSI, and it isn't likely to get one
of these $7000 devices.
A "glass panel" in several years is more likely.
I really would like to "fly" something on my computer whose
instruments look more like those on my own airplane.
I decided to check some of the other planes
available for MSFS98 to see if any of them flew correctly.
The saga of
IFR simming with MSFS98
is shown elsewhere.
Between the panel modification, simming and the next iteration of view limiting device my instrument scan was somewhat improved on our next flight, November 18. Lousy stinking weather conspired to keep me on the ground the next week. The weather improved slightly the 24th, but my instructor put the kibosh on any thoughts of going up that afternoon. We did spend some time on Eagle's simulator.
At my suggestion he keyed in the surface winds that caused owners to tighten their tiedown chains the day before. We looked for a place to enter winds aloft but didn't find it. Unbeknownst to me, the Jepp sim apparently calculates winds aloft by doubling or tripling the value entered for surface wind.
Shortly after takeoff I asked him what happened to the turbulence. There wasn't any. He'd turned it off. But the wind was still on. I should have paid attention to the speed readout on the DME.
It took a few tries to get something approaching a holding pattern southwest of the Newberg VOR. I'm not sure I ever got it right. Then he "cleared" me to shoot the ILS approach to McMinnville. When I was established inbound, I shifted in the chair so I could control the plane with the pedals, which I had largely ignored previously. But my feet had gone to sleep. I hadn't bothered to get the controls properly adjusted before starting, and now I would pay the price.
I asked him to pause the sim so I could shake my feet to get some circulation back in them. He refused. He said something about having to shoot a last chance approach to minimums with the last drops of fuel, or something like that. No rest for the wicked. I was committed. He must have been enjoying this immensely. Secure in the knowledge that this was a simulation, I hunkered down. Go for it.
With tingling feet that weighed hundreds of pounds I managed to shoot the approach in high winds (but no turbulence) without letting the needles deflect more than two dots. When I broke out of the virtual soup at several hundred feet he told me I had to land straight in because the vis was too low for a circling approach to the correct runway. Screw the crosswind. I managed to get the virtual 172 down in one virtual piece and kept it on the runway until nearly the end of the rollout. I was still upright after landing with a direct crosswind of 20-30 knots. Demonstrated crosswind capability on a 172 is 15 knots. Afterwards the instructors decided to reset the wind to a reasonable value so the next student would have a positive learning experience.
December fourth, exactly one year after my first solo flight,
We flew to Bend and back VFR on Top.
It was my first object lesson in dealing with the ice issue.
Many accidents are caused by airplanes picking up too much ice.
There are two ways to guarantee you won't get into
trouble with ice.
If you stay out of clouds or freezing rain, you won't pick up ice.
Piece of cake if you stay VFR.
(Since then I talked to a pilot who picked up a load of ice
from freezing rain while she was flying in VMC (Visual Meteorlogical
Conditions.)
If you do go into a cloud, you're fine as long as you are below the freezing level (temperature above freezing) or too high for ice to accrete on your aircraft. Do not linger too long in the altitudes in between. How long is too long? It depends.
That's where weather forecasts and pilot reports come in. Weather forecasts for icing are not reliable. Pilot reports of icing are few and far between. In the interests of economy, the government Air Traffic Control system is not staffed to accept routine pilot weather reports. Pilots must take time away from normal flying and communications responsibilities to submit weather reports to the appropriate facilities. Many fear retribution if they report ice encounters they should have avoided. Important information is not collected.
Friday morning the flight was in doubt as I watched the sky from a dentist's chair. I passed up an opportunity to grab something for breakfast.
East of the Cascade Mountains the weather was VFR, but not over the Rain Forest. As the appointed time approached, holes of blue sky appeared in the overcast. My instructor had made it clear I was not to concern myself with the IFR cross-country aspects of this particular trip.
I brought my Lowrance Airmap GPS receiver, packed in its carrying case. For VFR flight I haven't found much use for the moving map. Looking out the window, a wet compass, and sectional chart give all the navigation backup I require for VFR flight. But if I lose the electrics while in the soup, looking out the window won't help much. Pointing the airplane towards areas of VFR and climbing on top may not always be an option depending on the freezing level. So I needed to know if my Airmap would be useful as a backup. I wanted to see how quickly the Airmap could get a fix if it were deployed and powered up in flight.
I stashed a warm jacket, gloves and ski cap in the back seat, just in case. Preflight and takeoff was uneventful except for the cold. The vectors ATC assigned to us just happened to keep us out of cloud as Romeo climbed above it all. The temperature dropped to nearly 30 below. Imagine the wind chill. Thankfully the cabin heater did its job.
The weather east of the Cascades wasn't quite as nice as promised, but it was more than adequate for our needs. We set up to fly the VOR/DME approach into Bend.
My airplane does not have DME (Distance Measuring Equipment). Light airplane DME units are notoriously unreliable, and expensive to install and maintain. Pilots are now allowed to substitute an IFR GPS for most DME applications. My airplane has a GPS receiver, but it is not IFR approved.
My instructor's knowledge of aviation eclipses mine, but I do know a few things about the wiles of VFR GPS receivers that most real pilots don't know. Every now and then GPS pulls a Clinton to the tune of 10-15 miles. This was not one of those times. We confirmed this as I spotted the VOR transmitter dead ahead, just where my Apollo 2001 said it was. We were busy discussing this at a time when the pilot would normally be double checking his approach procedure.
My instructor had the airport in sight and we canceled IFR. I continued to fly the VOR approach under the hood. But the course he gave me wasn't doing the job. After some puzzlement he discovered the problem and gave me the correct VOR radial to fly.
Mistakes such as this have caused many crashes over the years. The KAL 007 shootdown, the Ron Brown crash in Croatia, the AA 757 crash in Cali, and the KAL 801 crash in Guam are well known examples of the genre, all flown by highly trained, fully qualified professional pilots. Since we were flying in easy visual conditions to a familiar airport that was already in sight, no penalty was exacted for this error. On the contrary, I received a valuable lesson on the need for careful cross checking.
When we reached the missed approach point I looked up but didn't immediately spot the Bend airport. (If the instrument approach had been for real, I would have been looking for the airport well before reaching the missed approach point. The object of not looking up until the missed approach point is reached on a practice approach is to evaluate the accuracy of the exercise.) It was 500 feet below us, hiding under the airplane's nose. That's exactly where it was supposed to be according to the approach plate.
I circled around, looking for the windsock. It was near the south end of the runway and I'd passed it already. Normally one would pass over the airport at 1500 feet and check the windsock. But I was at the minimum descent altitude (MDA) for a non precision approach, a mere 500 feet above a 5000 foot runway. (It's important to stay at the MDA because you may lose sight of the airport if you climb.) I didn't "feel" any wind. Ten miles away Redmond wasn't getting much wind. If there were much of a wind I'd notice it turning base or final. So, I went with it. With a 5000 by 75 foot runway I figured I didn't have to be spot on. I landed to the left of centerline and John jumped on me. He had me dead to rights, pointing out that the new Practical Test Standard (PTS) requires the main landing gear to straddle the centerline on touchdown. Somewhat chastened, I taxiied to a hangar where we inspected a Skyhawk that was for sale.
On the way back to Hillsboro we requested and received the IFR clearance in flight. After a few vectors I tracked the Newberg VOR inbound while VFR on Top. I don't know if it was me or the VOR, but the course seemed to be drifting back and forth slightly. (This is the well known "Newberg Shuffle".)
Nearing Newberg I was cleared to lower altitudes. I was banking to maintain track on the VOR when I penetrated the overcast layer. I let the angle of bank and rate of descent go a bit out of hand. He pointed out my lack of finesse. I am still not getting my descents up to standard.
As I broke out of the overcast we realized I hadn't checked the Airmap for acquisition time during an in flight cold start. My instructor and I exchanged control of the airplane while we deployed the Airmap, checked its operation, and then put it back in its carrying case. The Airmap located itself a minute after a cold start in flight, good enough for emergency use.
ATC vectored us around Forest Grove and Banks. They let us down a thousand feet, then immediately sent us back up for traffic separation. My instructor briefed me on how to find the COUVE intersection, one of the Initial Approach Fixes (IAF) for the ILS into Hillsboro. After a while he started to wonder if ATC had forgotten about us. The ADF indicated we were close to intercepting the ILS, but we had not yet been cleared for the approach. Shortly afterwards we got the clearance.
As before the air was smooth and I had no difficulty flying the ILS. This time I used 90 knots and no flaps. It was a half hour after sunset and the approach lights shone through the visor. So much for flying solely by reference to instruments. I flipped up the visor and landed. This time I paid attention to the centerline.
But I wasn't home free, not just yet. He asked about the after-landing checklist. I forgot to turn off the pitot heat. Time to revise the checklist.
When I turned off the runway I hadn't noted which exit I'd taken. Contacting ground control, I checked in with "holding at alpha-something". All in all, an interesting lesson. I was in good spirits, but hungry.
Monday Dec 7 the weather was a bit much for an IFR practice flight, so we used Eagle's sim instead.
I'm approaching the point where I start to practice partial panel IFR flying. I tried partial panel that morning with Microsoft Flight Simulator, but after switching off the vacuum driven gauges the remaining gauges were not too useful for training. Microsoft's wet compass doesn't have any of the quirks that make flying with a real compass interesting. On the other hand, Microsoft's Turn Indicator twitches incessantly instead of displaying the rate of roll and turn. Setting the DG and AI to INOP before takeoff caused Microsoft to go around in tight circles until the plane tipped over. Once airborne the instruments were as unreal as it gets.
So we used Eagle's Jepp simulator. The Jepp simulator does not have renditions of WWI biplanes or Learjets, but at least Jeppesen took some effort at providing accurate instrument displays instead of simply stating that slovenly work is as real as it gets.
At my suggestion my instructor dialed in the day's nasty weather. We set up to practice holding patterns and instrument failure. My instructor also instructed the sim to fail the vacuum system at a random time. I took off and flew an ad hoc holding pattern my instructor gave me. After going around the pattern once or twice, he cleared me to the McMinnville ILS approach while I was outbound on the holding pattern.
I hadn't given any thought to landing. I figured we'd do various holding patterns in various weather situations, then log off after I'd had enough. I remembered the generalities of the McMinnville ILS approach, but not the specifics. My instructor rummaged around for an approach plate while I bravely flew on. Then I couldn't remember how to change frequencies on the sim. Sitting in an office chair with a computer screen in front of me, I was getting behind the virtual airplane. I struggled to keep the needles from going off scale. While I did check for the correct altitude when crossing the outer marker, I wasn't keeping a proper check for the decision height as I approached the virtual airport. But the virtual runway appeared and I virtually landed on it. He started to secure the sim, but I asked to see a plot of my wanderings. That was a hoot. We couldn' get the printer working, so you will have to make do using your imagination.
I did a better job shooting the MMV ILS the last time I was on the sim, even with high winds and numb feet. I presume the difference in performance was the result of not being prepared for the festivities. If you fail to prepare, you prepare to fail. Chalk it up as another lesson in Cockpit Resource Management (CRM). At least I haven't crashed Eagle's sim.
The weather was better Wednesday. Today's lesson would introduce partial panel flying (with instruments covered up). I decided it would be interesting to check Romeo's standby vacuum selector. It took a healthy yank to open the valve that allows engine vacuum to take over from a failed air pump. Alas, the cowling had to be removed to shut the alternate vacuum off.
During the takeoff roll a rattle could be heard from the back. We decided it was not a problem with the airplane. I practiced timed turns, descents and ascents. Some of the time the directional gyro was masked off. Turns are accomplished by turning at the standard rate and timing the duration of the turn. We didn't get to the main event of partial panel operation, a failed attitude indicator. After about an hour of basic IFR maneuvers we headed for the ABATE non directional beacon (NDB) to shoot an improvised localizer-only circling approach to the airport. I was thinking of the procedure turn used in the NDB approach instead of the holding pattern used with the ILS and LOC approaches, and clumsily intercepted the localizer. I overshot the localizer, then overshot the other way. After passing the outer marker I descended to the 820 foot MDA and started the timer. Except that I was a bit too fast for the timing to work out properly. I also dropped slightly below the 820 foot MDA, which would have been a bust on a checkride. A mile or so from the airport I looked up to see runway 12 directly ahead. I steered to the right to setup a left base entry to runway 30.
Instinctively I started climbing up to the standard pattern altitude. In a circling IFR approach you are supposed to remain at the MDA; climbing might put you back in the clouds. I did a touch and go so my instructor could shoot a landing. We taxiied the plane to Northwest Aircraft Maintenance to have the nosewheel balanced.
Friday the weather was nasty, so we went back to the sim. At my suggestion my instructor dialed in the current weather conditions, minus the turbulence. I did the standard hold at the Newberg VOR. With the high wind, it took a few trips around the circuit before I started to get something resembling the published holding pattern.
My instructor then cleared me to the McMinnville holding pattern over the MINNIE NDB. Again, it took a few circuits to get the holding pattern "dialed in" in the high virtual wind. As I was starting to turn outbound in the holding pattern, my instructor cleared me for the NDB approach to McMinnville. I was at 2400 foot altitude used for the holding pattern, so I continued my turn outbound, where I could descend to 2100 feet after getting established inbound. But he instructor insisted I head straight for the airport. By the time I agreed to his demands, I had flown another mile or so toward the virtual airport without losing any altitude. I was still at 2400 feet at a point where I should have been maybe a thousand feet lower. So I cut power and dived for the airport. My instructor paused the sim long enough to set the ceiling high enough for the NDB approach to "succeed". When the virtual runway appeared it was obvious I was way too hot for anything resembling a normal landing. The FAA rules wisely call for a missed approach if a normal landing is not possible, but my instructor was late for an appointment. Again, I was committed. I protested that the probability of a successful landing was negligible. I tried a sideslip but without the feedback one gets in a real plane the maneuver wasn't effective.
The landing was hard enough the sim called it a crash. Let me tell you, crashing the Jepp sim is a bore. No awesome crunching of metal. No blood on the windshield. Just a modal window announcing the crash.
The next time up in N2469R I flatly stated there would be no hot-dogging of illegal approaches. No argument.
I was signed off to take the FAA "written" test. The test consists of 60 multiple guess questions computer selected from a large bank of questions, most of which have been published. I passed the test with a score of 92. I should have done better but a few Blonde Moments intervened.
Back in the air, I did a no gyro ILS approach into Hillsboro. It wasn't pretty but the runway was close to where it was supposed to be when I looked up. One afternoon the winds and turbulence picked up, making the approaches more interesting. My instructor says I've got the IFR routine figured out, but I'm still "rough as a corn cob". 23.1 hours (1.0 in actual) and counting.
I certainly could have used an IFR ticket to land at Hillsboro December 30, when the ceiling was 800 feet, an easy ILS approach. Instead, I spent the night at Eugene.
A few hours later a Twin Baron crashed west of the Newberg omni while attempting approaches to Aurora State (UAO). The Baron may have been making a procedure turn but was about 3000 feet below the correct altitude when it hit. Information trickling in about this accident suggests the pilot was not current for IFR, and was seen scud running near Stark's Twin Oaks airport.
TAF AMD KHIO 111750Z 111818 VRB03KT 1SM -RA BR SCT015 BKN035
OVC050 TEMPO 1822 3SM -RA BR BKN015
Monday we flew two ADF approaches into Hillsboro.
Notwithstanding the optimistic weather forecast shown above,
we were in and out of clouds much the time.
My instructor logged me for another .9 hour of actual.
The weather was ideal for practicing ADF approaches. Between the first and second ADF approachs scattered low clouds moved in. The 1500 broken had been joined by something like 300 scattered. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to make my first missed approach in anger, but the rabbit and approach lights materialized in time. I can appreciate how pilots are tempted to bust minimums on non precision approaches, resulting in a higher accident rate. At HIO we had the option of going missed and shooting a precision approach, but many airports do not have precision approaches.
A precision approach provides continuous electronic guidance in both vertical and horizontal planes. Precision approachs allow safe landings when the ceiling is as low as 200 feet with 1/4 mile visibility. Nonprecision approaches do not provide electronic guidance in the vertical plane. They require more pilot interpretation, with more chances for pilot error. Nonprecision approaches require much higher ceilings, 400 to thousands of feet depending on local geography.
My massively parallel
multiply redundant fail soft chart holder
(see above) left something to be desired.
I am left handed, so a kneepad doesn't work for writing clearances.
My current solution evolved from the yoke mount that came
with my Lowrance Airmap.
I added velcro to the top of the holder.
A trimmed down clipboard sticks to the top.
I use this to record clearances.
Another clipboard (not shown) holds the approach plate facing me.
Note the barely visible
red rubber band wrapped around the autopilot disconnect
switch on the left hand side of the yoke.
This makes George resistant to inadvertent disconnect by brushing against
the switch.
Flight 401 crashed in the Everglades after the autopilot was
inadvertently disconnected.
A pilot who hangered his airplane next to JFK Jr's Piper
told me
an unintentional autopilot disconnect may have been involved in the
JFK Jr crash.
March 9th was my first IFR cross-country flight. I planned a flight to Bremerton, Washington, to shoot an ADF approach where the beacon is located on the airport, a configuration I hadn't encountered before. Part of the trip to Bremerton was in actual, but the approaches to Bremerton and Arlington were under the hood in VFR conditions. The wind was gusting at Bremerton, and my instructor asked me when I intended to land as I felt my way down in the turbulence. After leaving Bremerton we picked up our clearance to Arlington via the LOFAL intersection. I shot the localizer approach into Arlington. When I take off the blinders and see the airport in easy VFR, my VFR training tells me to climb to the pattern altitude. This is not considered good form for IFR.
That weekend, a FAA safety seminar recommended pilots practicing non precision approaches to uncontrolled fields in VFR conditions use a Minimum Descent Altitude (MDA) of 500 feet above the traffic pattern.
At Arlington I sticked the fuel tanks. According to the fuel stick, I had 38 gallons aboard. Given the headwind we'd face on the way back, that wasn't all that much fuel.
The return flight retraced the path I'd used outbound. Shortly after reaching cruising altitude I was back in actual, but I could hardly tell unless I lifted up the blinders. Once I turned south toward home I encountered updrafts and downdrafts as I crossed the remains of the front moving through the area. A healthy headwind reduced my ground speed to less than 90 knots much of the way. The flight back seemed to take a long time.
KHIO 092253Z 21015G20KT 10SM -RA FEW019 BKN025 OVC060 07/02 A2996 RMK AO2 RAB48
Returning to Hillsboro, I shot the Rwy 12 ILS with a strong gusting crosswind. I had my hands full. It was much more difficult keeping on the beam than it had been on previous ILS approaches. The crosswind landing was interesting but uneventful. I was the last to land on Runway 12 for a while. The plane really wanted to weathervane as I trundled down Taxiway Alpha to the runway intersection and parking.
After landing I sticked the fuel tanks. The stick registered empty in the right and 5 gallons in the left. I had the tanks topped off, and the fuel truck meter stopped at 65 gallons. I expected the tanks to swallow about ten gallons more. This discrepancy puzzled me. Had one of the tanks collapsed so that it would not hold the rated amount of fuel? I still don't know if I had 5 or 14 gallons left.
When I returned to the plane to button it up I noticed fuel leaking down the right side of the plane. Anthony just happened to be working late at Northwest Aircraft Maintenance, and he looked at the leak. It definitely had to be fixed. Since the cost of draining the fuel was almost as much as buying new fuel, he suggested I fly it somewhere as the fuel would be nearly "free". But then he spotted a fuel leak in the fuel selector, and canceled his previous suggestion mumbling something about "glider practice". These fuel leaks kept N2469R on the ground for the next 10 days. A number of snaps had popped on the right bladder. You can not absolutely trust these suckers to hold any more fuel than the amount you added the last time you topped off. When the leaks were fixed, fuel was carefully measured when it was put back in. The tanks held their rated capacity (give or take a couple of gallons). At least they did that afternoon.
The next lesson was March 19. For once the weather was easy VFR, so I had to use the hood. During the lesson John had to push the yoke forward to avoid another plane. That's part of his job. We flew further west in search of peace and quiet. My basic IFR maneuvers still need work. My progress in the basic maneuvers is typical of pilots my age. After basic IFR maneuvers I did a couple of practice ILS approaches into Hillsboro. I wasn't happy with my performance on the first one, so I went missed. Among other things, I forgot to set the timer and check altitude when passing the outer marker. The second time we had to break off the approach and join the VFR traffic pattern. I let John land the plane since he enjoys it so much.
We needed good weather to practice the basic maneuvers, but shooting approaches is more productive and satisfying in nasty weather.
The next two lessons were also under the hood. We've decided a real hood is the best compromise. We did a partial panel no gyro localizer approach, as well as maneuvers with a variety of instruments covered up. I did reasonably well on the no gyro approach. Some people report high anxiety and great difficulty dealing with partial panel, but it doesn't seem to bother me as long as the situation does not require ultra precise navigation. I also have a nagging suspicion that the residual visual cues I get under the hood might lessen the impact of partial panel navigation. After the lesson, I bought my own ASA hood, a move which undoubtedly will guarantee plenty of IMC (Instrument Meteorlogical Conditions) to finish my IFR training in.
I then did an ILS approach in a lively, gusting crosswind. Shortly before reaching decision height on the approach, I let the wind push me to the left of course and the needle went to full deflection. If the weather had been down near minimums, I would have missed the approach. I was cleared to land and hold short of the intersecting runway (LAHSO) because everyone else was using the runway that pointed into the wind. After lifting the hood, I landed on RWY 12 in that crosswind. It was an interesting landing, but I got it down without damaging the airplane or my ego.
The wind was still up for the next lesson. I did two NDB approaches, the second using "own nav" including a procedure turn instead of getting radar vectors to the final approach.
The lesson scheduled for March 29 was canceled on the basis of forecast thunderstorms and hail. A plane that did fly that afternoon received some hail damage.
The last few lessons have concentrated on basics again, primarily rapid interpretation of instruments. Friday April 9 the weather didn't look so good to the southwest, so we flew to Astoria and shot the ILS approach there. The intent was to pick up the DME arc entry to the approach. My GPS is not IFR certified, so this would require VFR conditions. On the way to Astoria we encountered IMC, so we asked Seattle Center for a pop-up clearance. The first few transmissions didn't get through, so we climbed higher and selected a different frequency from the enroute chart. If this flight had been made single pilot it would have been wiser to plan it more carefully and file IFR from the outset.
The ILS approach into Astoria was a bit unusual. I intercepted the localizer a long ways out, and intercepted the glideslope some 12 miles out. A gusting wind from the southwest burbling around the coast range mountains kept me busy flying the plane on the ILS. I was too busy to look, but John was impressed by mountains on the left. You wouldn't want to let the needle get to full deflection. The approach seemed to take forever. After being used to co-located outer markers and NDBs, I wasn't quite expecting to hear the outer marker several minutes after passing the NDB inbound. But one does get two chances to check altitude along the approach.
At decision height I looked up and the runway was right ahead. I initiated the missed approach procedure. The hold over the Astoria VOR was rather gross, but Center gave us vectors back to Hillsboro for an NDB approach without comment.
John suggested I preset the 126.00 frequency in the standby memory to prepare for the handoff from Seattle Center. But I was handed off to 118.1 instead. On the way back I started to give the standard briefing for the NDB approach. A storm cell interrupted the briefing. (Not a thunderstorm or anything like that, just the average rain shower.) When things smoothed out I couldn't remember where I was in the briefing.
Somewhere along the way we decided I didn't need the hood anymore. My previous NDB approach into Hillsboro had been excellent. This time the King KR-87 ADF lost track of the ABATE beacon shortly after I passed it inbound. Percipitation static had wiped out the signal. Recently others have complained of poor signals from ABATE, so perhaps there was nothing seriously wrong with my plane. It took me a while to recognize and confirm the loss of the ADF signal. (Since then I have taken to monitoring the ADF on the cabin speaker. "Pump up the Volume.") By then it was obvious the airport was not ahead where it was supposed to be. John suggested we look for the airport, as we could see the ground below. I decided to go missed, not because of safety concerns, but because I was frustrated by my performance. John fetched the approach plate for the ILS and took over the controls as I reviewed the approach and adjusted the radios. This time Portland Approach asked us to keep up our speed on approach. This made things happen more quickly than usual. Hillsboro Tower reported that the winds had shifted and died down, giving us a choice of runways to land on. John wanted to land the plane. I agreed to the choice of runway 12 provided the wind didn't pick up. In retrospect it might have been better to land on 20 and avoid a long taxi. John did a nice job of slowing the plane at the last minute for a moderate crosswind landing.
Afterwards I checked the plane for ice. I found a trace of ice on the foam parts of the air filter, but not elsewhere. I now have about 8 hours of flying in actual IFR conditions. You don't get that kind of experience training in Arizona.
Monday April 19 I flew a three hour flight to North Bend (OTH) (on the Oregon coast) and back. My first mistake of the afternoon was failing to specify I was filing an IFR flight plan with the McMinnville FSS. This caused a brief delay while I called McMinnville on the radio to change the flight plan from VFR to IFR, and then get the clearance from the tower. I performed another IFR takeoff.
Once I was established in cruise flight, time passed slowly. I was convinced we had already passed the BREAF intersection, the first waypoint after the Newberg VOR. In reality, I was merely impatient. Not to worry, things would speed up later.
After a few more waypoints I shot the NDB approach into Eugene. The Eugene NDB approach has rather low minima for that type of approach, 420 feet above ground level (AGL). (The NDB approach into Hillsboro is almost twice as high.)
The ILS approach into North Bend is unusually short. The outer marker is only 2.5 miles from the touchdown point on the end of the runway; the corresponding distance for the Hillsboro ILS is 6.1 miles. The altitude at the outer marker is only 851 feet, less than half that seen at Hillsboro. Some accidents have been caused by planes intercepting a false glideslope at altitudes typical of other approaches. Everything happens more quickly on the North Bend approach. Add to that a quartering tailwind, and I had my hands full. I "had" to accept the quartering tailwind because circling to use a different runway would have required higher minima, and I wanted to practice shooting the approach to the straight-in minima. With a bit of prodding on the procedure turn I was greeted by the runway ahead of me when I removed my hood at decision height.
Once on the ground we relaxed for a bit. John showed me the weather observation office in the terminal building. A Flight Service Station used to occupy the now mostly empty office.
To avoid any worries about fuel, I had the right tank topped off, giving a total of 60 gallons between the two tanks. Rather than wait forever on the ground for a clearance, we took off under VFR conditions and started up the coast. The weather was much worse than forecast, and we flew just off the shore at low altitude before getting a pop-up clearance to return to Hillsboro via Newport.
During the flight we encountered plenty of percipitation. This time the ADF worked normally but the baggage door leaked water into the baggage compartment.
The forecast weather Tuesday called for marginal VFR conditions.
FM1800 15010KT P6SM -RA SCT020 OVC035 TEMPO 1822 4SM -RA BR
BKN025 OVC035
KHIO 111941Z 11005KT 2SM BR OVC005 11/11 A3005 RMK AO2 CIG 003V008=
A warm front was moving in and the weather was real IFR. The ceiling at Hillsboro was close to ILS minimums. I had originally planned and filed approaches to Pearson Field (VUO) and Troutdale (TTD). These approaches are unique in my experience because they have stepdown fixes based on VOR radials. This involves descending to a lower altitude when the second CDI centers, then changing the OBS dial or starting a timer. The lower ceilings put the kibosh on these nonprecision approaches.
I chucked the flight plan, asking for ILS approaches to nearby McMinnville. After McMinnville, I shot two ILS approaches to Hillsboro. Between the two approaches, the wind had shifted enough that the 5 degree right crab on the first approach had turned into a 5 degree left crab. On the second and final approach, the runway appeared when I reached 300 feet above ground, only 100 feet above the ILS decision height. During some of the approach I had the needles centered; that was a bit spooky because extraordinary failures can give a misleading on course indication. It was satisfying to see the runway appear dead ahead, exactly where it was supposed to be.
On May 14 I again filed for practice approaches to Troutdale and Pearson. On the ground, I was cleared to Troutdale. While climbing out I contacted Portland Approach. Approach asked me what I wanted to do. I still wanted the practice approach into Troutdale, but this had been deleted from the menu. Pearson and Portland weren't on the menu either. Too busy. I settled for Aurora.
Since we hadn't planned on Aurora, I didn't have the Aurora approach plates out. John briefed me on the approaches. I've flown them before, but not recently. I flew the approaches based on the briefing, butt naked with no approach plate in front of me. Having them on John's lap wasn't the same. I might be comfortable flying an approach to my home airport without a plate in front of me, but not to someplace I don't frequent. The two approaches to Aurora were punctuated by paranoia about unseen VFR traffic in the pattern.
Afterwards we proceeded to Hillsboro "OWN NAV" to execute the localizer approach partial panel. In partial panel practice, the directional gyro and/or attitude indicator are covered up to simulate a failure of the vacuum system. The remaining instruments are used more intensively. Without the directional gyro, the magnetic compass is checked often. This is awkward because the compass is located on top of the instrument panel, and there is no way to look at it without seeing outside.
With the exception of one turn that went awry, I did reasonably well. If it happened for real I'd want to be on somebody's radar scope.
The next few flights were mixed bags, but May 20 was the best yet. I flew four approaches, three into Salem (SLE) and the NDB back into Hillsboro. Actually we flew five approaches in the 1.8 hour flight. After the third approach the hood retaining strap was starting to get to me, so I took the hood off and John flew the second ILS into Salem. Salem is an ideal place to practice approaches because one can shuttle back and forth between the localizer back course to runway 13 and the ILS to 31 with relatively little wasted time. It helps that Salem has a control tower but little traffic.
The ILS approach to Salem is unique among the approaches I've flown in that the missed approach procedure consists of remaining on the runway heading and using the outbound localizer for guidance. The trick here is to know when to ignore the localizer as it goes nuts over the runway, and when to pay attention to it.
We flew back to Hillsboro at 6000 feet mostly between cloud layers, punching right through some of the clouds. It was cool. But it was time to put the hood back on as much of the last approach would be in clear weather.
I made two mistakes on the flight, starting the inbound procedure turn back to the Salem ILS right instead of left, and completing the inbound procedure turn to the Hillsboro NDB approach too soon.
The next flight was to Corvallis (CVO). Corvallis is about the closest airport with a plain VOR approach (DME not required). Actually, Astoria is closer, but the IFR route to Astoria overflies terrain that leaves something to be desired for emergency landings, so it seems longer. The Corvallis approaches have a missed approach procedure terminating in a holding pattern based on the intersection of two VOR radials. Locating the holding fix requires twisting knobs while climbing out on the missed approach.
One one of the approaches I heard Jason Wright, my primary instructor, departing Corvallis airport. It was a slow day and we exchanged a few bits of information on the CTAF (Common Traffic Frequency). I never did get to the holding pattern defined by the VOR radials because ATC always gave us the next clearance before we reached the holding fix.
My 1999 copy of the FAR/AIM book had wandered off, and I was advised not to show up with last year's edition. So I bought another copy.
I preflighted my airplane, then returned to Eagle Flight Center where my Designated Examiner (DE) arrived at 0900. Bill Poppino flies Boeing 737s for Southwest Airlines. Traditionally the student and DE touch bases before the checkride, but this doesn't always happen. Had I known the exact agenda in advance, I might have flown it a few times on a sim until I could do it in Blonde Mode, if not in my sleep.
After exchanging greetings, Bill and I chatted for the better part of an hour before getting down to the oral part of the checkride. Bill mentioned that he always made his approaches with full flaps, and suggested this was the way to do it. To a student, an airline pilot DE is next to God. Being presented with the suggestion that I had been doing my approaches in the wrong configuration did nothing to build my confidence.
The oral was like many others I've read about. A smart examiner needn't waste much time asking questions I knew cold, and Bill was no dummy. The oral lasted about an hour, after which I called FSS for a weather briefing (it was VFR) and to file an IFR flight plan. When we got to the airplane, Bill realized he hadn't brought his headset with him, so he went back to borrow a pair.
Normally when beginning an IFR flight I get my clearance, then dial in as many of the frquencies and courses as possible before taxiing. For some reason I decided to defer setting the radios until after I reached the runup area. Just exactly precisely why I did this remains a mystery to this day. This was a mistake, because I've never set the radios in the runup area, and I didn't set them this time either. Only after I was cleared for takeoff did I realize the radios had not been set. I asked the tower to stand by, and hurriedly set up the radios. In the process I entered an incorrect frequency for the Salem NDB. I dialed 226 instead of 266. Haste makes waste.
Takeoff and departure were uneventful. The flight plan called for a course change from 166 to 183 degrees after passing the Newberg VOR. When I reached the VOR I set the heading bug to 183 but forgot to set the NAV 1 OBS. I wandered back and forth between the two courses for a few minutes. ATC asked what course I was on and finally I figured it out. But in the confusion I was working up a Blond Moment. I was more wound up than I should have been.
Bill had me ask ATC for a hold at the MCCOY intersection,
ATC gave me a choice of holding on the airway or the localizer.
I was primed to write down a number indicating a
radial, but no number was forthcoming.
I flipped a coin and asked for a hold on the localizer,
and that's what I was told to do.
Still no bloody radial!
By the time I reached MCCOY I had figured out what to do,
and executed the hold properly.
Just before completing the first loop of the holding pattern,
Bill decided further loops were not necessary.
I asked Center for the approach, and was cleared just after I'd
started on the second iteration of the holding pattern.
Great.
I was holding at 5000 feet, but wanted to fly the segment
from MCCOY to the final approach fix (ARTTY) at 2000 feet.
I started a rapid descent while continuing the turn outbound,
then continued the turn inbound to the localizer course.
Next time something like this happens
I'll make a complete second loop,
descending to the MSA (Minimum Safe Altitude) before I reach MCCOY.
During this time I had the number one NAV set to the airway course (UBG 183 degrees) and the number two NAV set to the Salem localizer. (This is how the MCCOY intersection is defined if one lacks DME.) I intercepted the localizer using the #2 CDI. I was handed off to Salem Tower. After reporting to Salem Tower, I apparently started looking at the #1 CDI, which was still tuned to Newberg. I had the Salem localizer dialed in the #1 standby frequency, but had forgotten to punch it in. The approach started to unravel. The CDI didn't behave as expected. The ADF was pointing to the Flying M Ranch instead of the Salem Airport, adding to the mess. In the confusion I went below the MDA. That was a bust.
At this point there were two options - pack up and go home, or continue the checkride and maybe get some other things out of the way. But there would be no instrument ticket that day.
Since I had flown all the way to Salem, I decided to continue. I started the NDB approach to Salem. As I was executing the approach, Center repeatedly called out traffic at our altitude. Bill didn't spot the traffic. He decided four eyes were needed. I took off my hood and we both looked. Bill spotted the traffic a few seconds later. As usual, once the plane was spotted it is so clear one wonders why it wasn't seen minutes ago.
While looking for the other plane I couldn't help but notice the airport ahead. There wasn't enough time to put the hood back on. Instead, I hunkered down behind the glare shield, checked the ADF, and made a slight course adjustment. When the 150 seconds ran out I looked up. Most of the runway was under the nose, right where it was supposed to be. (The missed approach point is at the end of the runway.) Bill asked if I could make the runway from that point. Cirrus SR20? Just pop the chute, sit back and relax. Otherwise, circle to land. In a real approach to NDB minimums, the runway would have been visible some time before reaching the missed approach point on that approach.
On the way back Bill checked the airplane's trim. I did stalls, steep turns, and recovery from unusual attitudes under the hood. I haden't done stalls under the hood for a long time, but they were acceptable if not spiffy.
Needless to say, busting the checkride was a keen disappointment for all involved. It was also an object lesson in human factors. A few days later I discovered that I could have "bailed out" by asking Center for some vectors before tanking the approach, and saved the ride. I would have done that if the situation were real.
Over the next few weeks John and I flew several missions. The rematch was scheduled for Monday June 21. This time I did my level best to get a good night's sleep.
When I started my plane, I got my clearance and took my jolly good time getting everying possible preset and identified. Tower cleared me to taxi to runway 12. As I taxiied out of the parking area I grumbled about having to taxi over a mile to runway 12. There wasn't much wind, and Bill suggested I ask for 30. I did, and Tower granted my request. When I reached the hold short line for runway 30, Tower advised there would be some delay taking off, and suggested I taxi to runway 12. I took off the hood and started wondering how to turn around without busting the hold short line. Suddenly Tower said we could take off from 30 if we were quick about it. Bill took off while I put the hood back on.
This time I did the right thing passing Newberg. Passing the Newberg VOR is a bit of a chore because it is difficult to distinguish the "Newberg Shuffle" from the onset of station passage ("cone of silence") without DME. I could have set the GPS to give direct distance to the VOR, but then I would have had to reset it to Salem afterwards.
After the handoff from Portland approach to Seattle Center, I asked for a lower altitude. I'd learned my lesson; I didn't want to hit MCCOY at 5000 again. Center cleared me down to three. The localizer back course approach to Salem was uneventful, but I do admit to crowding the MDA for several seconds.
I went missed ("Instrument Pilots always go missed.") and was cleared for the ILS approach. On the way out I started the procedure turn after one minute. In retrospect, two minutes would have been better. Once I was established on the localizer inbound, I started descending at 500 feet per minute. John had been commenting on some high descent rates I had been using. After all, I wasn't flying a Stuka dive bomber. When I reached 2100 feet I was well above the glide slope. This can ruin your day in hard IFR because a failure in the glide slope system can keep you from knowing if you are below the glide slope. If you approach the glide slope from above you don't have the opportunity to check the glide slope display. I had to scramble to get down to the glide slope, but eventually got the needles centered.
At this point Bill told me to take it down to 100 feet, 100 feet below the published decision height. He said it would be good practice, and I would not be judged on the last hundred feet. This was perfectly safe because he had the runway clearly in sight and the winds were calm.
I drifted off a bit but had no difficulty making a touch and go after taking the hood off at 100 feet.
Back with the hood and back to Hillsboro. Time for partial panel. Bill placed my shiny metal E6B over the attitude indicator. Perhaps because my airplane has a wet vacuum pump and standby vacuum, Bill was content to leave the directional gyro visible. I suggested he look in the glove box for a post-it note to use instead. Come to think of it, it would have been fun to pitch up and make the E6B fall off, exposing the AI.
Somewhere on the way back I realized the pitot heat had not been switched on. It's considered good form to turn it on before IFR flight, just in case it gets cold enough to freeze. Oops. I turned it on. Better late than never. Come to think of it, Bill did the takeoff....
At least twice during the ride, Bill started to say "Southwest" instead of "Skylane" or "Cessna" when calling ATC. Old habits die hard.
Center cleared me direct to Newberg, then course 310 for vectors. This I forgot, and turned to 329 after passing Newberg. 329 is the radial used for the "own navigation" approach complete with holding pattern course reversal. Bill asked me what the clearance was. Oops. I gave Approach a superfluous position report and got a free repeat of my clearance. Vectors. No own nav. No procedure turn. 310 degrees.
About this time I realized I hadn't checked the magnetic compass for a while. I looked up and it was swinging between 030 and 060, or something like that. I was supposed to be flying 310. I squelched a mini panic attack and waited for the compass to settle down. I checked the GPS ground track. There wasn't much wind at my altitude, so the GPS ground track should be close to my heading. I was in solid IMC at the time, so I could look at the compass all I wanted without cheating, or even giving the appearance of cheating. (The directional gyro (DG) and magnetic compass complement each other. The gyro is stable in motion, but drifts over time. The magnetic compass has its own bag of tricks. Like a woman, it is unstable at times. No wonder it has nicknames. Sometimes it is called the "whiskey compass", supposedly because whiskey was once used for the compass fluid. John calls it the "standby compass".)
Apparently the vectors I got weren't the greatest. Flying partial panel, I was a bit too busy to take detailed notes at the time, but I flew past the localizer. I don't recall if I'd been cleared for the approach or not. I was about to call Approach when I got a new vector. I intercepted the localizer at 3000 feet just outside of ABATE. Again, I had to boogie on down to get to the glide slope. Bill said it was because I was given poor vectors. The rest of the approach was uneventful, but I would have liked to have buried the needles. I took the hood off at 400 (200 feet AGL) and prepared for landing. I asked Bill if I could land long to reduce the amount of taxiing required. The landing was one of the smoothest I can recall anyone making in a 182 on dry pavement. At Alpha-4 I carefully checked the after landing checklist. I was quite determined not to bust the ride at this point.
Afterwards, Bill had his own problem. Now that typewriters are an endangered species, the FAA now insist that the paperwork be typed, not hand printed. Ever tried filling out a Temporary Airman Certificate on a strange word processor typewriter?
John, Bill and I retired to the Burgerville next to the airport for a quick lunch. I asked Bill if he had any inside dope on the Little Rock crash. He didn't, but he mentioned that an incoming Southwest flight had diverted back to Dallas, and an outbound Southwest flight went back to the gate minutes before the crash.
The next item on my flying agenda is to take a few flights in easy IFR (1000-2000 foot ceiling) to get used to flying IMC really solo. It' called "getting your ticket wet". With my luck it'll be serious VFR the rest of the summer. Jusr kidding. This is Oregon.
The baggage compartment door still leaks when flying in percip. New static wicks took care of the percipitation static.
Wx for the checkride:
TAF KHIO 211135Z 211212 00000KT P6SM -DZ SCT005 BKN010 OVC020
TEMPO 1215 3SM -RA BR BKN005
FM1600 25006KT P6SM SCT010 BKN020 OVC035
FM1900 26006KT P6SM BKN025 OVC040
FM2200 29009KT P6SM SCT030 BKN045 TEMPO 2202 SCT045
FM0600 28006KT P6SM BKN020 OVC030
FM1000 27004KT P6SM OVC015
FRZLVL...WA..100-120 SW..ELSW 080-100.
OR..120-150 W AND 090-120 E.
CA..140-160 NRN..150-160 CNTRL/SRN.
WINDS ALOFT FORECASTS
DATA BASED ON 201200Z
VALID 201800Z FOR USE 1700-2100Z. TEMPS NEG ABV 24000
KHIO 211853Z 30003KT 10SM BKN025 OVC047 18/13 A2998 RMK AO2 SLP152 T01830128=
Stats:
One difference between training flights and flying single pilot IFR is that I use the autopilot more. During training I rarely used the autopilot, mostly to keep the plane on course while I got out an approach plate or something. On this flight I used it during much of the straight and level cruise. It gave me the time to check the magnetic compass with the pitot heat turned off. (The pitot heat current draw affects the compass.) I can appreciate why the FAA require a competent autopilot for single pilot commercial flights.
Somebody was practicing approaches at Astoria, so I was given a hold east of Karpen on the localizer. First time I've had less trouble figuring out a hold than the controller had deciding where he wanted me to hold (he started telling me to hold west of Karpen, then changed his mind). Perhaps being able to look out the cockpit to the area where I would be holding helped visualize the holding pattern. Slowing down to a logical holding pattern speed (what's the rush?) gave an eerie sense of almost hanging in the air. One trip around the holding pattern did the job, and Center gave me vectors to join the ILS. I broke out of the clouds shortly after passing the outer marker on the ILS. Reported weather was 1500 scattered or broken.
I had planned to shoot the VOR approach also, but the ceiling was high enough to make that exercise meaningless. I headed back to Hillsboro at 5000 feet. This time I was in clouds most of the time. I could have asked for higher, but didn't wish to make it easy. I asked for the NDB approach to Hillsboro. The reported weather was 4700 scattered. Shortly after I started descending from 5000, I ran out of clouds. Lacking a safety pilot, I canceled IFR and proceeded to Hillsboro.
I've been wondering how bad the weather must be to log an instrument approach. If only approaches to minimums were counted, hardly anyone would maintain currency. My instructor suggested logging the approach if I don't break out before the final approach fix. So, one solo IFR approach today.
Solo IFR is a whole new ball game. My first solo IFR was more memorable than my first solo flight 18 months earlier.
Monday August 16 I flew from Hillsboro to Watsonville, California. Since the Bay area is often under a low marine layer, I filed IFR. I used an automatic routing generated by Flitesoft Professional. It decided to route me directly over San Francisco, giving a total route of 540 nautical miles (519 direct). I didn't think ATC would accept routing me through San Francisco class B airspace, but it was worth a try.
I was cleared as filed before takeoff.
Left: notepad from flight.
Initial clearance was Cleared to Watsonville via Canby 6
departure, then as filed.
Maintain 4000 feet altitude, expect 11000 after 5 minutes.
Departure frequency 126.0, squawk 3503.
Takeoff was at 1604Z.
Before reaching Red Bluff in northern California, I was given an amended clearance. I furiously copied it down: Red Bluff Victor 23 to Sacramento, Victor 585 to Panoche (PXN), Victor 230 to Watsonville. (Minor detail: Victor 230 terminates in Salinas, not Watsonville.) I had to unfold the chart to figure out where they were sending me to. It helped that I had an autopilot to hold the wheel during all this.
The reroute was 70 miles longer, just what I wanted when flying into an unforecast 20-25 kt headwind. The Minimum Enroute Altitude for the last segment was 9000 feet, which meant it wouldn't be profitable to descend in search of lighter headwinds.
I was flying well above the Minimum Enroute Altitude (MEA), so I was able to receive not only the next VOR, but the one after that. So I decided I could cheat a bit on a perfectly clear day and navigate directly to the distant VOR instead of taking a crooked route to it. ATC asked where I was going. I told them I was flying direct to the second VOR. ATC told me to get back on the airway, no short cuts, no matter how slight.
Shortly after passing Stockton a new controller offered me a better routing: Victor 585 (which I was on) to PATTI intersection, Victor 111 to SNS, vectors to Wilsonville. I greatefully accepted this second rerouting. I opened up the chart to locate PATTI and V111. Almost immediately, I was cleared to a lower altitude. Once I got the descent going, I resumed looking at the IFR chart for the new route. I passed PATTI by the time I got the VOR retuned to the Modesto VOR which defines both PATTI and part of the Victor 111 airway. I was late making the turn. ATC noticed.
Lesson learned: Be careful about accepting reroutes partcularly if you're in the soup. One suggestion from the Internet rec.aviation.ifr newsgroup: Tell ATC to stand by while you locate the required information on the chart and dial things in.
I intercepted the Modesto 191 radial which anchors the east end of V111. Later, As I approached the Diablo Mountain Range near the coast I tried to get the Salinas (SNS) VOR tuned in and identified. No such luck. (Actually, I had been trying to ID it for some time, but I figured the signal was being blocked by mountains near the coast.) I asked Monterey Approach if there was a problem with the Salinas VOR. Um, yes there was, it was out of service and I shouldn't be trying to navigate with it, I should be on vectors. Except nobody had mentioned Salinas was OTS - not the DUATS computer briefing, not the weather briefer who filed my IFR flight plan to Watsonville, and not ATC who told me to navigate to Salinas on an airway defined by the dead VOR.
I started getting vectors for the localizer approach to Watsonville. The GPS is reading 5 minutes to Watsonville and I'm still at 6000 feet. Finally I get cleared down to 2000 feet. I have to reduce power almost to idle to get down fast enough. The EGT drops quickly, and ATC doesn't pay for shock cooling.
The night before I practiced the Watsonville localizer approach on a sim. The inital approach fix (IAF), final approach fix (FAF) and missed approach procedure all reference the Salinas VOR, which is out of service today. The Watsonville weather robot was also on the fritz, so I didn't have the current weather. The most recent report I had was 1000 overcast, indicating there was a slight chance I might have to divert to an alternate.
Monterey Approach cleared me for the Localizer Runway 2 approach once I was established on the localizer, frequency change approved, please report after landing. I announced my location and intentions on the Watsonville CTAF.
With the normal final approach fix out of service, I decided to start the timer when the GPS indicated 7 miles to the airport center. (6.3 miles FAF to MAP) Even if the GPS were off, (see GPS Pulls a Clinton) I would still see the localizer go crazy near the missed approach point. I also had the ADF tuned to the PAJAR NDB which is 1.1 miles from the MAP. The LOC approach plate doesn't show the distance from PAJAR to the MAP, and I wasn't sure I knew that number for sure, or I would have used PAJAR instead.
As for the missed approach procedure, I knew I would be back on top long before reaching the Salinas VOR. While I was working out my Plan B for identifying the missed approach point I drifted across the localizer. I was in VMC above the marine layer, so I just got back on course with a sharper intercept instead of going missed.
Passing the FAF I descended into the marine layer. There was little or no turbulence. I didn't see anything until I was almost down to the Minimum Descent Altitude of 680 feet. I started to see the bay. The shoreline came into view shortly afterwards. Visibility was 1 to 2 miles. For a while I was flying the localizer approach down to minimums.
The runway came into view and the Missed Approach Point was no longer of interest. The last mile or so to the airport was clear. The traffic pattern was active, so I climbed up to pattern altitude and entered downwind for a normal landing on Runway 20. Before I reached the parking area Monterey Approach was calling me on the Watsonville CTAF to verify the conclusion of the flight.
Total flight time 5.5 hours, 10.3 GPH, 125 kt cruise airspeed.
On this flight I made my first solo instrument approach that I had not previously flown with my instructor.
Six approaches must be made within the last 6 months to stay current for Instrument flight. Friday November 19 the weather forecast suggested I could shoot a few approaches at Hillsboro. I wanted to go a few days earlier but the freezing level was too low.
Bright eyed and bushy tailed, almost completely recovered from a cold, I had N2469R's tanks topped off as I preflighted. Some of this flight would be in the rain, so I loosened up the worst of the bug splats on the leading edge hoping the rain would finish the job. The airplane was damp inside. I had to wipe condensation off some of the instruments. The pilot's window defroster started working soon after startup, so I had no difficulty seeing where I was going. I didn't expect to see much anyway. I planned on shooting two ADF approaches and two ILS approaches, then join the Friday BBQ at Hillsboro Aviation.
Takeoff and Farmington Three departure were uneventful. The Newberg Shuffle was alive and well. I asked for the NDB own nav but apparently things were too busy, so I got vectors. A light turbulence kept me busy staying on heading and altitude. Once established on the approach I realized I would have to compensate for a strong headwind. I raised the flaps and cranked up the speed to maintain a 90 kt groundspeed as indicated on the GPS. The first approach rewarded me with the runway nearly straight ahead. I flew the 4 minutes (Final Approach Fix to Missed Approach Point) to see how close I'd hit the MAP with the timer. I felt a bit guilty boring in 200 feet below traffic pattern altitude, but there wasn't much happening in the pattern.
After I went missed I was sent up to 5000 feet and stronger turbulence (see the AIRMET below). A front was coming in and the dead calm at the surface was transitioning to a healthy 40 knots. I was occupied keeping on course. I was getting a bit tired and decided to land after this apporach.
Once inbound past ABATE I descended to the 1020 foot MDA, but this time the winds couldn't make up their mind which way to shove me. Low clouds had moved in, and once again there was a possibilty I might go missed in anger. I didn't see the airport until the first few thousand feet of Runway 12 exposed themselves. I was about a quarter mile to the right of centerline, not glorious but well within specs for an ADF approach. Despite all the commotion above, the winds were nearly calm as I touched down gently. No point doing a short field landing and then taxiing a mile. I landed about 1945, just as the weather was closing in (see below). A few minutes sooner or later might have required going missed in anger followed by an ILS.
But I did log two approaches. The cabin was dry. The windshield and leading edge were much cleaner. I'd doubled the number of solo approaches shot in IMC.
TAF KHIO 191129Z 191212 VRB03KT P6SM OVC070 TEMPO 1214 -RA
FM1400 13007KT P6SM SCT040 OVC070 TEMPO 1415 -RA BKN040
FM1500 16012KT P6SM -RA SCT022 OVC035 TEMPO 1521 4SM RA BR
BKN022 OVC030
FM2100 19012KT P6SM -SHRA BKN022 OVC035
SFOT WA 191605 AMD
AIRMET TANGO UPDT 3 FOR TURB AND LLWS VALID UNTIL 192100
AIRMET TURB...WA OR CA AND CSTL WTRS ID MT NV...UPDT FROM
YQL TO LWT TO DLN TO OAL TO 120W RZS TO 120W FOT TO 120W TOU
TO YDC TO YQL OCNL MOD TURB BLW FL180 DUE TO MOD SWLY LOW
LVL WNDS. CONDS CONTG BYD 21Z THRU 03Z.
LLWS POTENTIAL BLW 020 AGL OVR WRN WA WRN OR NRN AND CNTRL CA.
CONDS ENDG 21Z.
KHIO 191853Z 03003KT 6SM -RA BR SCT011 BKN042 OVC050 08/07 A2970
KHIO 191942Z 00000KT 6SM -RA BR FEW002 SCT041 OVC050 08/08 A2967
KHIO 191953Z 00000KT 2 1/2SM -RA BR SCT007 BKN039 OVC050 08/08 A2968
KHIO 192000Z 00000KT 2 1/2SM -RA BR BKN005 OVC041 08/08 A2968
KHIO 192053Z 20003KT 2 1/2SM -RA BR BKN007 BKN016 OVC049 09/08 A2968
KHIO 192100Z 16004KT 3SM BR BKN007 BKN042 OVC049 09/08 A2968
FT 3000 6000 9000 12000 18000 24000 30000 34000 39000
PDX 1936 2146+01 2241-04 2140-08 2056-19 2068-30 206543 214848 252950