rtyler
/
brokenco.de
1
0
Fork 0
Code Pull Requests Releases Activity

Add the latest flight blog post

This commit is contained in:
R. Tyler Croy 2013-12-08 17:12:06 -08:00
parent 0c930d511d
commit 14d3921397
1 changed files with 164 additions and 0 deletions
Show Stats Download Patch File Download Diff File Expand all files Collapse all files

164
_posts/2013-12-07-airborne-ass-kickings.md Normal file
View File

@ -0,0 +1,164 @@
---
layout: post
title: "Airborne ass-kickings"
tags:
- vfrpilot
- aviation
- flying
---
We begin our descent towards Santa Rosa, lined up for runway 32 with strong
headwinds and a warning of moderate turbulence from the tower.
The wind speed is variable, a fancy way to say "gusting." The air
gusting over the wing is making it somewhat difficult to maintain a proper 500
foot per minute descent.
I'm not thrilled with the weather, but the sky has been gorgeous, and a strong
headwind isn't that much trouble so long as you have plenty of fuel to
compensate.
Descending through 3,500ft and something suddenly shoves my tail out to the
right. In addition to kicking my tail out, the gust of air pushes us upward.
I've flown in what is classified as "light-to-moderate" turbulence, but this
patch called my bluff. I bank the plane, nose down a little, and politely ask
the engine for more power. Entering a climbing left turn, I tell my passengers
"we're not going to Santa Rosa today, sorry"
----
In the car on the way home after the flight, I went through the flight over and
over in my head asking that most fundamental question "did I make the right
call to take the flight?"
The weather was scheduled to be windy, my briefer advised me to expecting
gusting *after* lunch, but otherwise the skies were looking great, and except a
20 knot headwind, everything lined up for a chilly, but otherwise reasonable
flight.
The air had other plans.
----
On the way to Santa Rosa, I filed a
[PIREP](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilot_report) from about 4,700ft. We were
experiencing light turbulence, but otherwise the **44** knot winds were all we
were fighting against. On our return flight, those incredible headwinds became
delightful tailwinds, shoving us southeast-bound at nearly 130 knots.
<center><img src="http://agentdero.cachefly.net/unethicalblogger.com/images/pireps-turbulence.png" alt="PIREPs filed from turbulence"/><br/><strong>PIREPs filed (mine is the green "47" one)</strong></center>
As we approached the northern end of the San Francisco Bay, NorCal Approach
cleared me to proceed direct to the Coliseum at 2,500 ft. I begin our descent
from 5,500. Over Hilltop Mall, NorCal advises me that they've received reports
of moderate turbulence down the corridor from Oakland to south of Hayward. The
skies over Oakland tend to be a little choppy during a *good* day as the earth heats
up, I struggle to imagine what "moderate" means in this case
since "moderate" in Santa Rosa sent me packing.
The current conditions at Hayward aren't too favorable either, higher winds
with some gusts close to 20 knots.
I'm a frustrated and stressed from fighting the waves of air with 738VU.
"NorCal Approach, 738VU, you can go ahead and cancel our Charlie clearance,
we're going to divert to the east and fly down by Walnut Creek and Danville"
I turn left towards the San Pablo Resevoir and ponder my options.
----
Over Danville, I've made up my mind. Hayward is *not* happening right now. I
pick up the current conditions at Livermore, which are windy, but not gusty. I
can do windy.
"NorCal Approach, Seven-three-eight Victor-uniform, diverting to Livermore."
I "enter the pattern" at 3500ft, technically a few thousand feet above it,
resolving to hold my altitude as long as can. My pilot philosophy whenever I'm
in less-than-ideal conditions is always "I can fix too high, I can't fix too
low."
"Livermore Tower, Seven-three-eight Victor-uniform, I'm going to extend my
downwind to lose some altitude and then make a long straight-in approach."
Tower acknowledges, resequences me, and clears me as a number two for 25R. The
big runway. If I'm going to battle this wind, I might need to go long, so I
want some extra runway just in case.
Flaps only out to 20 degrees for the long final, I arm wrestle with 8VU's
control column to maintain the proper attitude and my centerline. Less than
40ft from the runway, I level the nose and the headwind helps me bleed off my
extra speed. Tap-dancing on the rudder pedals to maintain centerline, the right
wheel quietly touches the runway, followed by the left. A landing so gentle, I
wasn't sure I was entirely on the runway until the nose wheel settled.
Airplane shut down and secured, we scurry off into the cold to get something to eat.
---
On the ground I brief my friends on what happens if the wind doesn't get any
more favorable, explaining that a taxicab is a lot cheaper than tempting fate.
That's one of the benefits of diverting to Livermore, the weather is
sufficiently different to be a viable airport to divert to, but close enough to
take a cab back to Hayward if necessary.
Brunch conversation predictably meanders through aviation, football and work.
All the while, I find myself periodically checking the weather my phone.
Hundred dollar bacon and eggs gurgling around in our stomachs, we make the
frigid walk back to the field.
After consulting with Keith (who owns California Airways) and my instructor
regarding the current conditions at the field, it looks like in the previous
hour Livermore and Hayward had switched places. It was now windy at Hayward,
but that was it. Meanwhile Livermore's conditions had changed such that the wind
was 16 knots, gusting to 26!
Fortunately for our adventure, the wind's direction was straight down the runway.
<center><img src="http://agentdero.cachefly.net/unethicalblogger.com/images/livermore-to-hwd.png" alt="Livermore to Hayward"/></center>
Pre-flight and runup complete, we taxi onto the runway, squaring off with the
wind. Unafraid of a headwind, 738VU lifts off with a short take-off roll,
followed by a bit of a shoving match between me at the wind. Nothing a little
dance number on the rudder pedals can't fix.
The story is largely the same en route to Hayward, holding onto altitude,
mashing rudder pedals, and so on. After receiving the clearance for 28R
(the short runway), I request 28L to make sure I've got enough room to float if
necessary and start lining up.
20 degrees of flaps in, I center up and argue with the cross-wind as we
descend towards the asphalt. At around 500ft I realize that my glideslope in
this headwind is going to put me short of the runway and add some throttle.
Descent arrested, we cross Hesperian Blvd, receiving the "Hesperian Bump", a
low-level thermal from a big asphalt intersection right below approach for
Hayward, which gives me a short-approach boost every time I land on 28L.
Power comes all the way out, I flare, bleeding off excess energy allowing the wheels to
ever-so-gently touch down. Considering my passengers have only seen one other
landing of mine, I had to be sufficiently impressed by the landing on their
behalf.
----
After detailing the flight to my wife at home afterwards, I mention that the
flight was definitely fun, and full of gorgeous views, but I feel like somebody
beat me up.
With what I know now, I would have scrubbed the flight. Presented with the
information from this morning, I believe I would make the same decision and still go flying.
Leaving yourself options, and being able to re-evaluate and react to change are
skills absolutely required to fly an airplane. METARs and current conditions
are historical data, forecasts can be inaccurate and are not comprehensive. At
the end of the day it comes down to the pilot, the airplane, the
environment and what you decide to do with them.
Clear winter skies are excellent to fly in, so here's hoping next weekend is smoother.