The Great Ongoing Aviation Thread (general and other)

While it’s not part of the training regiment the key to a successful flight is to fly ahead of the plane. Weather doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. If a pilot waits until things get ugly then the situation spins out of control very quickly. If a plane has a functional auto-pilot or a second pilot who can split the workload then it’s manageable. If not then a pilot has to maintain control of a plane that is pitching and rolling while trying to navigate and establish communication.

I’ve been there as a non-instrument rated pilot. I was once racing a storm front to an airport at night while flying over lake Michigan. I lost all GPS signal and needed to work on plan B. I used a passenger as an auto pilot. It gave me the luxury of 10 to 15 second intervals between tasks. I only had to glance up at the instruments to see the plane was stabilized. It freed up my hands to flip through maps, change radio frequencies, switch fuel tanks and plot out an alternate and work on the GPS.

By the time I got to my destination it started to pour and visibility went way below VFR mins. I turned the runway lights up but still couldn’t see them. I could see the threshold strobes and made a 1-shot, power-to-idle, cross-controlled landing with a tail wind. At that point I couldn’t see the storm line and thought it best to put it down rather than find out the hard way.

I tell this to illustrate how quickly things can get out of control in a plane if you let them. I’ve literally made the same flight racing a storm at night and went straight to plan B without the benefit of someone to share the workload.

People with an IFR rating often get it so they can punch through clouds on a nice day. Something that often grounds a VFR pilot. It doesn’t help them as much in an emergency because it adds to the workload and in bad weather a pilot’s time may be consumed maintaining control of the plane.

This open source audio AOA looks good: https://www.flyonspeed.org/

Still in beta testing and experimental only for now. You need to build it yourself including soldering chips to the board. Thinking about putting one together for my RV.

Sounds kinda like what happened in this accident:

I’m not a big fan of vids.

Here’s the NTSB’s 3-page summary pdf:
https://app.ntsb.gov/pdfgenerator/ReportGeneratorFile.ashx?EventID=20060106X00019&AKey=1&RType=Summary&IType=FA

And here’s their long-form final report totaling 8 pages of pdf:
https://app.ntsb.gov/pdfgenerator/ReportGeneratorFile.ashx?EventID=20060106X00019&AKey=1&RType=Final&IType=FA

That’s pretty much the bog standard script. He wants to get there. The weather starts out nice at his departure point and marginal closer to the destination. Enroute he’s told it’s bad & getting worse ahead and he announces a concrete plan to turn back if necessary. Then after retreat becomes prudent, but before it becomes impossible, he fails to execute that retreat plan. Then it becomes impossible. Soon enough the ground arrives.

In this case he had the extra fun of the mountains. Once he’s squeezed into a canyon following a highway into decreasing visibility he can’t turn around. Even if he knows there’s room, he can’t be assured he’ll be able to reacquire the road and follow it back out. And unless he’s extremely familiar with the terrain all along there, and is highly confident about his position along the road he can’t be sure that there’s room to complete the turn. At his flying speed, even a slowed-down speed, he’s only seeing 15-20 seconds into his future.

As in so many aviation accidents, the point of no return appears pretty innocuous on its face. Once past that point your fate is sealed: how, when, & where specifically you are subsequently killed is just happenstance details.

It is only by having deeply imbibed that fact, and learning to spot the exceedingly subtle signs of the trap closing that you live to tell the tale of misadventure avoided.

Spending some time on Google maps looking at I-80 northeast of Heber City, UT, and comparing that to the timeline of events in the NTSB report, that dude had been walking dead for half an hour. His only way to have saved his butt much past Evanston WY when he told ATC he could / would turn back if needed, was to admit defeat and land straight ahead on I-80 itself. He chose to die rather than miss his appointment at the destination, complete the embarrassing paperwork, and pay the expense of having his airplane trucked home.

this was black and white from the start. The destination weather was below minimums and he flew into a canyon with a 500 ft ceiling. Pattern altitude for an airport is 1000 feet. At 300 ft he wasn’t skud running, he was on short final for the highway.

If you don’t know what a Debonair is, it’s a straight tail Bonanza. Killer of Doctors.

If I was a controller I would have asked him if his emergency beacon was in good working order.

. . . and he still missed his appointment, I infer.

His destination was on the other side of the mountains in the flats south of Salt Lake City. I didn’t watch the vid so the info may have been in there, but the NTSB data doesn’t include anything about his destination weather; just airports near the accident site up in the mountains.

Your main point remains 100% valid though. He tried to squeeze through a narrow pass in rising terrain which eventually became tangent with the clouds, or at least with the heavy snow falling from those clouds. That never works.

He’d been operating VFR in what’s probably Class G airspace below 1200’ AGL in what was legally IMC for multiple 10s of minutes at altitudes barely above or more likely below the minimum legal altitude for the density of man-made stuff below him. Short final for the highway indeed. It was right there, a literal stone’s throw away and he couldn’t bring himself to use it.

The most impressive thing to me about this guy was how thoroughly he kept checking the weather, how thoroughly he was told “this is between a really bad idea and totally hopeless”, and how resolutely he continued. If he’d never checked ahead and had just flown blindly into a nasty surprise snow squall well up the narrow part of the pass that’d be a completely different kind of mistake.

But to have the presence of mind to ask, and ask again a total of 4 times how bad it was ahead, to be given the bad news all 4 times, and then to still press ahead is boggling. What sort of different message could he have heard that would have turned him around? I suspect there simply wasn’t one; he was that head-up-and-locked as we say.

IOW, in his head asking about the weather was merely pro forma; it wasn’t actually decision-making information. Whether he was aware of this defective frame of mind is a separate, interesting, and unanswerable question.

Apparently. Although depending on his religion he maybe got to meet St. Peter as a consolation prize.

There’s a saying in the biz: “Your funeral will be held on a sunny day.” It’s meant as a reminder that there’s not really a reason to go that’s important enough to require pressing the weather, the mechanical issues, or whatever threat you’re facing just now.

I am not a pilot (in case that wasn’t abundantly clear already) and I realize this question may be deeply ignorant but I am curious:

Is there a reason this pilot could not have been given an altitude higher than the highest terrain in the area (for the sake of argument let’s assume his plane could fly at whatever that altitude is), be given a compass heading and just fly that and then pray he makes it out of the weather before running out of gas? As long as he assures his airspeed is sufficient and keeps altitude and glues his eyes to his artificial horizon it seems doable. Better still if he has an autopilot and let that fly for him.

I am not saying this is an ideal choice but it seems he left most choices behind him.

No. I don’t think there was any assignment of altitude in this instance. He was flying VFR and using radar services for weather updates. He would have had to declare an emergency since he wasn’t IFR certified. Since he was already talking to controllers it didn’t involve hunting down frequencies and changing the radio. There was no additional workload involved. He only needed to ask and hope his basic instrument training included in a VFR license gets him through the cloud layer.

It’s clear the controllers knew he was screwed when they asked a passing airliner to relay information. I’m not sure if their radar is accurate enough to guide him through a narrow pass. According to the video the mountains climbed 1000 feet on either side of him so his initial direction climbing through the clouds needed to be spot-on and the layer has to be thin enough he doesn’t ice up because the climb is going to reduce is airspeed at the same time any ice will increase his stall speed.

He had 2 choices he could rely on. climb under supervision or land on the highway. Either one required explanation to the FAA. He choice to blindly turn into terrain he couldn’t see in the distance.

Even if the plane could get above the terrain, it would likely not fly well.
Also, that may be high enough that oxygen may become an issue.
Plus lets say you get above the clouds. At some point you are going to have to land, and that may involve going through the clouds again, which might not be too bad, but certainly could be as well.

Brian
VFR PP-ASEL

Several thoughts I started an hour ago before @Macgiver’s & @N9IWP’s posts.

For a guy like me in his same airplane that’s exactly what I’d do; ideally go over the rocks and the weather, if that’s impossible I’d go over the rocks and through the weather. But depending on what else I know about myself, my airplane, and the forecast & actual conditions out there, I may, as the proverb states, use my superior judgment to avoid the need for my superior skill and just go home.

Let’s assume we’re going …
It might take 70 miles of climbing to get above those mountains from his pass-hugging cruise altitude. So you need to know to start that climb 70 miles ago. If you wait until you’re close to the mountains the terrain rises more steeply than you can climb. And you may already have flown under teh higher clouds you don’t want to penetrate.

Our intrepid hero was certainly generally familiar with the area; he spoke of trying to fly through a couple of different canyons by name. But he didn’t start to climb early. So to climb to clear terrain he’d have needed to circle in place while climbing, or more efficiently, turned back while climbing, climb 2/3rds of the way to his altitude goal, then turn forward again to climb the last 1/3rd before he arrived at the high mountains. The 2/3rds - 1/3rd thing is a rule of thumb because climb angle decreases as you get to higher altitudes with weaker performance. The “turning back” part, even as a tactic to continue, doesn’t seem to have been part of his repertoire that day.


Snowy weather over mountains will almost always contain icing. Flight into known icing is prohibited in most lightplanes absent some fairly rare accessories. Flying into icing in an airplane not able to handle can also be rapidly fatal. Pretty quickly it won’t maintain altitude and now you descend unable to do anything about that. You might stall at a speed well above normal and spin in, or you might just let down smoothly and gently into a mountainside. Not good either way.

The only cure for encountering icing inflight in an airplane that can’t handle it is to turn back immediately. You can go from fine to screwed in a minute or two. And may not even be in true IMC yet while it’s happening. Climbing can sometimes be a cure for low-altitude icing or that occurring right at the cloud tops. But given how performance sapping icing is, and how marginally lightplanes climb at the 8, 10, etc. thousand foot level, climbing is rarely a practical choice in a lightplane.


In the particular case of the terrain along his route of flight the minimum safe instrument altitude is roughly 14,000 feet. More would be better to reduce near-terrain turbulence. Which altitude means you have to have supplemental oxygen on board. Both for legality and to keep your brain from going too stupid to fly. As a general matter aircraft of his type can climb that high if they’re light enough. He wasn’t carrying any people besides himself, so it’s reasonable to assume it would have been possible for the airplane to have gotten up to 14K+ feet. If his brain could.


If it was a sure thing there was sunshine above, say, 15,000 the smartest plan would be to climb up early in the sunshine, transit the mountains in the sunshine, then descend in the better weather we assume exists over the Salt Lake basin.

If the clouds were too high to climb over and he had an autopilot and he was willing to trust his life to it he could have climbed up to 14,000 well east of the high terrain, pointed it towards his destination and sat there hands-off clouds or no. That amounts to the bootleg IFR I mentioned upthread.

Ref @Magiver’s well-chosen comments in his first post above … If you meant fess up to ATC and have them offer this as a solution, sooner they’d say to turn back to the VMC you were in 50 miles ago over the lower terrain. Nobody is going to endorse “Hi ATC, I’m a VFR-only pilot and I want to try to penetrate 100 miles of snow showers over high terrain; can I have a vector through the worst of it to {destination airport} please?” Obviously all ATC can do is suggest. If he wants to climb into the clouds westbound after declaring that emergency they’ll watch and keep everybody else out of the way. Until the radar blip disappears.

The biggest failure of all is this idea:

A person who is not isn’t trained simply can’t fly instruments. It’s much harder than it looks. The balance system in your ears is telling you to ignore the instruments. It takes discipline and practice to get past that. It’s very similar to landlubbers getting seasick while sailors don’t. Your balance system has the power to take over your mind and stop your eyes from seeing.

All the videos, all the simulators, all the movies or chair flying in the world can’t prepare anyone for the reality of what that feels like within the autonomic systems of your body that are not subject to conscious control. You simply have to be desensitized by doing it. For hours and hours and hours. It’s not a god-like skill only the Chosen Few can attain. But there’s no shortcut. Hands-on practice is the only way. And if you don’t practice regularly, it gets too hard again.

I’ve often said flying isn’t all that difficult. But it is very, very, very real-time, like any other performance art. Stuff is thrown at you at whatever pace the machine and the outside world throws it at you. Your job is very literally to keep up or die trying. Unlike football, or musical performance, or acting, there is no timeout, no director yelling “Cut!”, no way to stop the music. It’s keep up the whole time or die along the way.

Research shows most VMC-only pilots lose control in IMC within 2 minutes. This guy would have needed to fly IMC in turbulence for between 45 and 90 minutes. Not gonna happen.

This mistaken belief that they can hack it is how flights into IMC happen. And end shortly thereafter.

The fact this guy was smart enough to not try to enter the clouds and in fact was doing his damnedest to avoid entering clouds probably would have let him survive identical weather over the Great Plains. In fact he probably had done just that several times & lived through it just fine.

What finally killed him, besides poor long term decision-making was rocks too close below, left, and right, and clouds too close above. Flight through any of the 4 is equally lethal for a VMC-only pilot. It appears he chose to strike the trees rather than climb into the clouds. Good last-ditch thinking, but better yet even just a minute earlier to have set down on the interstate or the median thereof.

As to communications relays, again I didn’t watch the vid and those details aren’t in the NTSB report, so I may be talking out my ass here as to this event.

In the mountain West it is not at all uncommon for airliners to relay routine radio traffic between lightplanes down low and ATC. Any one of us probably does it every month or two and a heck of a lot of airliners traverse those skies every day. The VHF radios we all use are pure line-of-sight. ATC has many remote antennas scattered across mountain peaks. But they don’t have good coverage within a couple thousand feet of the terrain all over the Rockies & Sierras.

Radar coverage gets real spotty down low too. The NTSB report indicates radar contact was intermittent for several minutes before the accident. And again that’s normal stuff that goes on every day.

So in and of itself intermittent radar contact and the fact Delta or whoever was relaying comms aren’t signs of crisis. Now what they were relaying is another matter. Google couldn’t locate a written transcript.

OOh, icing – good point.
I fly for fun, so my minimums (worst conditions I will fly in) are pretty mild. There have been times I thought about going to a certain airport, found the experience not fun (but perfectly handle-able), and either pick a closer airport or head back to my home base and possibly do practice landings ro even just the one and call it a day.

Brian

There’s another bit of strategic planning here I glossed right over. Being trapped on top of an undercast up in the sunshine is also fatal to a VMC-only pilot.

Even VMC-only pilots can navigate via radio (VOR, LORAN, GPS) so they don’t need to see the ground to arrive overhead their destination. But they do need to see the ground from whatever cruise altitude to be able to land.

So on a long flight, the moment you climb above a single little puffy, you’ve started tying the noose around your neck. You may be able to cruise just fine up in the sunshine, but if there’s no hole at your destination or nearby enough, you’ll run out of gas up there waiting for the clouds to clear.

As such, it’s enormously more comfortable for a VMC-only pilot to remain in visual contact with the ground, even if they’re using IFR-style radio navigation to find their way.

For sure one can ask for weather reports & forecasts at the destination and if you know for certain the weather is or will be good at the far end when you get there and the only cloud problem is enroute, then one could make a decision to climb over the clouds and cruise in the sunshine.

Doing so gives away any hope of a survivable forced landing if your engine quits enroute, but over bad enough terrain you may have had little to no chance anyhow absent all clouds. So the incremental risk may be small. Conversely, over favorable terrain or open water (with proper survival gear), you just turned any engine problems from a survivable forced landing into a near certain unsurvivable crash.

In the general case where reports and forecasts for the destination are equivocal this desire to retain ground contact at all costs to ensure the landing is often the mental trap that leads to scud running under lowering clouds into worsening visibility.

Thursday afternoon: Plane crash in Puyallup.
Saturday night: Plane crash in Puyallup.

It’s interesting that two aircraft crashed after losing power shortly after takeoff. I’ve no idea what caused these crashes, but I think I might be looking into the fuel supply at the airport.

To clarify: Two aircraft lost power. Both aircraft could have suffered a mechanical failure. Since it’s been raining, both aircraft may have had leaky fuel caps that allowed water into the tanks. Improper preflight procedures may have been the cause. It may have been pilot error. Or perhaps the fuel supply at the airport is contaminated. It could have been multiple factors (as it often is). So I don’t have an idea what actually caused the crashes because evidence has not been analysed yet. But I think one place to look for evidence would be the fuel pits.

Yeah. Smells fishy. Although as you say simple coincidences often do; at least at first. The fact one pilot was a new owner opens issues of unfamiliarity with that airplane’s idiosyncracies.

FYI all - Here’s a link to a different article about the first accident that doesn’t demand you drop your adblocker to see it.

There’s a microbial growth that can exist in the layer between water and avgas. Usually it gets bled out of a plane when the sumps are purged.

some of it is highly corrosive and can eat up switching valves. Planes with remote purge systems make it impossible for the pilot to see if there’s anything odd in the fuel.

I’ve had the impulse coupler break on one of the mags as I was throttling up to take off and the engine wouldn’t hold power on the other mag. Not really sure why. the flight was done. But before taxiing back I used the long runway as a test bed to see if I could get RPM’s to 75% power. Nothing worked. I was happy it happened before I was in the air.