Trip Day 1 – Saturday, August 19

Although I arrived at Morey Field before 8:00 as I had the previous two days, today was much more relaxed.  We got updated weather briefings for the route and found the skies would be overcast with a thin layer of clouds rising through the day – pretty much like Friday.

This was the first time that I was relaxed enough to really notice the airport.  From the fading whitewashed hangar with "Morey Airplane Company" over the door in large letters to the feel of the office, with bin after bin of small parts and an office in the back.  It reminded me of my grandfather's auto parts store so many years ago.  Of course, the place is filled with nostalgia, from pictures of Charles Lindbergh and the "Spirit of St. Louis" parked in that whitewashed hangar.  It's something else!

Probably the most important thing we did that morning was to pick who paid for what meals.  Field had six strips of paper, each with a day of the trip on it.  We each picked two, and those days, we would buy the lunch and dinner.  That so simplified things later on!

At 10:30, we began the trip.  Our initial altitude had us skimming right across the top.  From the back seat, it was a great view!

Because there was a small concern that the scopolamine patch wouldn't have taken effect yet, John flew first.  He did a nice NDB into Charles City, Iowa.  Then he pointed us towards Spencer and we did our first of several in-flight seat changes.  It's just like playing Twister!  The pilot up front hands his gear back and then works himself into the free back seat.  Then the guy in back works his way up front, gets settled and has his stuff passed forward.  It works better than I expected, but this first time, I slipped and fell against the door, which made a nice rushing sound as wind slipped in.  Scared me shitless!  I bet that would have surprised the guys if I had fallen out!

Settled in, I continued the flight to Spencer and I got a real hold before the NDB.  A Sky West commuter got there before us and we had to wait for him to get on the ground before we got our chance.  The controller was apologetic, as they hate to issue holds.

I slowed down immediately to limit the amount of time in the hold, but it didn't work and we did have to enter it.  After a couple of turns in the hold, we shot the approach and I made my first good landing.  It was nice have a wide, long runway to practice on, and it really hid my tendency to drift to the left during the flare.  Our stop was quick – just a chance to wolf down lunch, hit the head and back in the air.  

John flew us to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.  He did a VOR approach and a hold.  My turn again and we were suddenly in clouds. Field immediately disabled the attitude indicator and the horizontal situation indicator. I flew partial panel in clouds for 1.1 hours!  My performance was not great and it hit home exactly how screwed I would be if I had a vacuum pump failure in clouds.  Eventually the controller warned us that we were off the airway and I finally corrected our course correctly.  I asked Field if I was going to get to do my approach partial panel.  He said that given how "well" I was doing, there was no way!  We all laughed.

Then we got another real hold. Unheard of.  I completed the day with the ILS and DME^[1] arc into Pierre. I botched the minimum altitude but made a perfect circle to land (fat lot of good that would have done me if I had hit something where I descended too low).  John did not get sick today.  The drugs are working and I was happy for him, as I knew how miserable the trip could have been for him.  This little bit of nausea he experienced hit home to both us how our passengers could feel in the back.  It's a much different experience than in the front!

The Kelly Inn was only a short drive from the airport, located downtown.  And what an incredibly small town!  I don't think I've been in a state capitol that's smaller!  We took only a quick second to throw our stuff in the room and met in the hotel lobby to recap the day, plan our flights for Sunday and receive our first nightly homework.  Then we immediately went off for prime rib and beer at La Minestra for dinner. The conversation turned to the subject of particularly hazardous approaches.  I am fascinated by them and Field mentioned that there were several on the trip – he'd make sure that I got my share.  The first chance would be tomorrow at Helena, Montana and only three prior students have done the approach correctly.  What a chance to add one's name to the books!

After dinner we got back to the room early enough to get my homework and my extensive research on the NDB-D approach at Helena done by 10:00.

Trip Day 2 – Sunday, August 20

And the routine begins with our first full day of flying!

Field wants to meet at 6:30, so I'm up at 5:00 just to make sure I'm ready.  I also download the weather briefing & NOTAMs^[2] from DUATS^[3] onto my Compaq iPAQ Pocket PC.  This story isn't about the iPAQ, but it was a groovy way to keep up with mail and to do some light Internet surfing with only one pound of gear.  It was also indispensable to have a full text weather briefing at hand.

Looks like we'll start to see fires today.  I've planned our flight over several of them, just over the airspace marked as protected for the fire fighting planes.  Before we get there, it's going to be a long, tough day at high altitudes – 12,000 feet, just below the level where supplemental oxygen is required.

In fact, this day turned out to be a blur.

I'm pretty clear on the first part of the day.  I took off with a partial panel into clouds, flew us to Rapid City and did a simple ILS approach with a fine landing on the mammoth runway.  Then John took us for a VFR climb past the monuments.  We started with a fly-by Mount Rushmore, 
followed by skimming over rock formations called "The Needles," 
finally saw the perpetually under construction Crazy Horse monument and took us to lunch @ Gillette, Wyoming.

After that, I did a full VOR approach with a miss and hold at Sheridan.  I don't remember much about it, which probably says a little bit about hypoxia^[4] and a little bit about how focused I was on the upcoming Helena approach.  John took oxygen for part of the flight and I think it helped him.  He had a much better memory of what was going on than I did, even though my blood oxygen levels were higher than his.

After the miss, we did a mid-air switch and John got us to Billings, Montana, where we had lunch at the Skyview Terrace Restaurant.  I love the airport there.  It's right on a bluff and the town is below.  The approach is pretty dramatic, with the town well below on the left.  We started to see the first fire planes here. Old tankers with Canadian registration were all over the field.

As we began our take-off roll from Billings, I was thinking that the all-you-can eat buffet was probably not one of my best decisions.  I was feeling a little off, but that might have been simply from the excitement coming up.  Helena!

Maximum Testosterone Approach #1 – Helena, Montana NDB-D

As soon as we were safely en-route to Helena, I got my approach plate ready.  I had reminders on several Post-It notes and I started placing them strategically on the window glass.  I was so focused on the approach that I didn't even really want to look at the fires that we started to see.  As we were handed off to the controller at Helena, I let him know that we wanted to do the NDB-D approach.  There was a pause before he came back wanted to confirm that we did want the NDB-D.  "Affirmative," I replied.  We could almost hear the laughter in the tower cab.  Field and John are also laughing – I think they smell my upcoming demise.

So, I'm beginning the approach and other planes come into the area and want to do some practice approaches.  Well, this airport doesn't have radar service, and I have a clearance, so the air is mine.  The controller replies to these requests with, "We've got a Cessna 182 doing the NDB-D approach.  It's going to be awhile before I can give you clearance."  We could hear the suppressed chuckles on both sides.  And then there were the Montana Air National Guard helicopters buzzing in and out taking water to fight the fires.  They were all around us, and the tower couldn't give us any guidance.  That didn't really matter, as we had Skywatch, which showed us where all the traffic was.

Helena is nestled into a valley and the NDB has a bizarre placement off to the side of the airport.  Given that this airport has the more reliable ILS, LOC^[5], GPS^[6] & VOR approaches, this NDB is not one that would be your first choice.  The approach requires you to begin the approach at 10,000 and somehow get down to 5,000 with very little space to accomplish this.

Well, heck, let's end the suspense:  I didn't do the approach right.  There were four "gotcha's" on the approach plate.  I correctly identified and found three of them.  I successfully transitioned from 10,000 to 5,000 feet in a five mile by five mile patch by descending in the hold (not the more normal ten miles); I recognized that the maximum approach speed authorized was 90 knots; and I used the correct dogleg out of the NDB and got the timing right.  But, the final one, the minimum altitude allowed in the descending hold, I busted.  I thought I could go to the altitude allowed at the FAF, but that wasn't the case.  I had misread the chart.  Those of you who read charts & see my notes above know exactly where I screwed up.  My mistake wouldn't have killed us this time. But it was another lesson learned.  I was quite pleased that I hadn't made any of the killer mistakes, but really, really wanted to be name four on the list.

Oh, there was also the point that I was disoriented during the circle-to-land and started to turn right when I meant left.  Field corrected me on that and I did get the plane safely on the ground.

After that, I was completely wiped out and wished I had a beer to enjoy while John took us on the final flight to Missoula.  More fire fighting equipment there, but the winds had shifted and the air was clear.  There was barely a hint of smoke in the air.

After we landed, we did our flight planning at the airport.  In the quiz that followed, it was obvious that I was completely toast.  I was confusing left & right and the stuff coming out of my mouth certainly wasn't what my brain was thinking.  And remember:  my blood-oxygen levels in-flight were in the mid 90's, which are acceptable, if not even good.

I was suffering from dehydration.  I had limited my fluid intake so that I wouldn't have to hit the head in-flight.  I had obviously overdone it and it took me a couple of days to get that balance right.

I think I had a nice grilled salmon for dinner.  I know I had two beers.  After that, I was in bed before 8:00.  Maybe even earlier – I just know that the sun hadn't set.  I got up at 4:00 so I could get my flight planning, weather briefing & overnight homework done for 6:30.

Small Surprise #4:  Don't expect to get anything accomplished aside from flying.  Those telephone calls to check messages from work….  They aren't going to happen during the day & you're going to have neither time nor energy to do it at night.  You'll have the perfect opportunity to be completely focused on the Instrument Rating.  You're going to eat, sleep, drink & fly this stuff.

Trip Day 3 – Monday, August 21

Well, I'm up at 4:00 and the news is grim.  The fires are all over Idaho, the winds have stopped and visibility has dropped significantly.  I don't think we're going to be able to do the mountain flying.  Some of Field's preferred strips are NOTAMed as being in a fire operations area.  I got my homework done and went down early for breakfast.  The local news had some dramatic footage of fires blazing only a few miles north of our location.

We left the hotel at 7:00 and what a dramatic change!  While yesterday the skies were clear, today the air was hazy and there was a hint of a smoky smell.  Visibility was not great and John led us on our first flight to Lewiston, Idaho.  We saw more pockets of fire on this part of the trip, but what I notice more was the bright green farmland that was starting to crop up as we approached our first destination.

After Lewiston, we were going to finally find out if mountain flying was in or out.  I piloted us towards McCall while Field listened in on the air-to-air frequencies.  The frequency was filled with chatter from bush pilots telling how horrible the conditions were.  With the sun behind you, conditions were poor and visibility was marginal at just a few miles, but with the sun ahead of you, it was like being in a bright cloud with zero forward visibility.  It was absolutely not safe to be flying around VFR and not possible IFR.

Mountain flying was out and this was very disappointing, but we did make the right decision.

As we got near the Salmon River, it was obvious what the pilots were talking about.  The smoke completely filled the valleys and it looked like a steaming cauldron.  Some smoke leaked out of the lower points between mountains and flowed down valleys.  It was possible to see directly down, but forward visibility was poor.

Then there was a "ding" sound and the autopilot disengaged.  This had happened a couple of times before, and we found that simply resetting the device caused it to work again.  Not so, this time.  Although I don't mind flying by hand, it sure is nice having the autopilot to keep the wings level while you're trying to get your charts in order or are otherwise distracted from your instrument scan.  So, I got to practice my en-route flying skills and quickly got back into the habit of flying at the right altitude & heading by hand.  I look back on this system failure as a good thing now, but it dramatically increased the stress I was feeling at the time.

Testosterone Approach #2 – McCall, Idaho NDB 34

I didn't think this was really all that tough, but there were three important items.  First, McCall had a temporary tower that I correctly picked up through NOTAM.  Second, the procedure turn to transition inbound was in a valley, well below the peaks – I was under the hood, so I didn't have to be troubled with watching the mountains come up.  Third, there was a small dogleg after crossing the NDB.  I caught that without a problem and came up right at the runway.

But here's why this is a testosterone approach:  If you lose awareness of where you are in relationship to the NDB, you've got a good chance of flying right into a mountain.  An NDB only does one thing.  It points the direction that the beacon is in relationship to your plane and the way the plane is pointed it.  If your plane is pointed towards the beacon, the arrow will point straight ahead, no matter what heading you're flying!  If you get confused and simply turn the plane so that the arrow points to the plane's tail and don't take into account the proper heading, you could easily fly off course.

NDB Rule #1 – If in doubt about your position in relationship to the beacon, turn to the heading you're supposed to be on and see where the needle points.

McCall looked under siege.  The skies were dark and the place smelled strongly smoky.  We parked at McCall Air Taxi, which excited me, as I had seen a program about them on TV, a wonderful show about mountain flying on the Trio network.  Well, they were busy with the fires and I didn't bother them.

Since we skipped a morning of hopping around the mountain strips, we had lunch early at a wonderful bakery next to the airport.  An Egyptian family owned it and the sandwiches were great and the owner was a character.  Unfortunately we missed the belly dancing scheduled every Saturday night.

John flew us from McCall to Pendleton, Oregon and I took us from Pendleton to Redmond.  And here is where I met the first controller having a bad hair day.  Because we were early, our clearance didn't show up on a strip in front of him, although we were in the computer system.  He was stressing over something and clearly was not interested in handling our flight.  We stayed in a hold for a while until he decided he could handle us, and he kept being abusive or at least acting like we were a pain in his ass. 

As we approached Redmond, I told him that I wanted vectors to the ILS approach.  He just about hit the roof - he wanted me to cancel our IFR clearance and do the approach visually.  I know I was getting to him, and he was certainly getting to me.  He cleared me for the approach and then a few seconds later, he told me to increase my speed for traffic awaiting clearance behind me.  This was the last straw.  He could have planned for this and had us enter another hold while the faster planes came in, or he could have them hold.  But, you know, I had had just about enough.  I was already doing 110 knots, which is an approach speed I enjoy and I certainly wasn't going to go and faster for him!  So, I radioed "Acknowledged," to the controller and I pulled back on the throttle and allowed the plane to slow to 90 knots.  Field picked up an evil smile.

A couple of minutes later, the controller came back again, "89T, I need you to keep up your speed."

"Acknowledged," I radioed again, and I turned to Field and said, "If he does that again, I'm going to squawk 7600^[7]."  I doubt I could actually bring myself to do that, but given my emotional state, who knows?

Finally, the controller came back on talking to one of the planes behind us, "Well, it looks like the 182 is going to be on the approach for quite awhile longer.  I'm going to need you to enter a hold."

The other pilot came back with, "No problem, we'll cancel IFR."  The weather was fine, so this makes sense.  He could fly to the airport visually and probably land before us, since he was in a much faster plane.

After a quick pilot change on the ground at Redmond (where a number of papers got sucked out of the plane and went flying down the taxiway), John began our trip to Medford.  Unfortunately the same controller was on duty, so we couldn't get our clearance immediately.  Then there was a shift change and a much nicer guy was able to help us on our way.

My flying was done for the day, so I got to enjoy some spectacular scenery as John worked hard up front.  We completed the flight over the Cascades and saw Mount Hood, the Seven Sisters 
and we diverted from the airway to see Crater Lake.  What a wonderful turquoise color and what a great view from only a few thousand feet up!

After Medford, John took us to Ashland, where we arrived pretty early, about 3:00 and got to see the wonderful Windmill Inn of Ashland.  The other hotels were kind of Super 8 quality (well, the one at Missoula was actually a Super 8), and for our purposes, I don't have a problem with that.  But this place was beautiful!  It was a place that maybe actually flying to and staying at would be great!  The suites (yes, suites) were well decorated and had huge, comfortable beds.  Quite nice!  And they delivered coffee & a muffin on the house for breakfast if requested.

It was another tough day, but it felt good to be done earlier.  We decided to go just across the street for drinks and we had finished a pitcher of beer before we realized that we might as well just eat.  I didn't realize that Oregon was known for barbeque.  It was okay!  

And since we were so early, we were done with dinner at 6:00.  I got my work done fairly quickly and had some wonderful (probably alcohol-induced) sleep. 

Footnotes

^[1] DME:  Distance Measuring Equipment measures the distance between the aircraft and the navigational aid.  Very helpful in figuring out where the aircraft is located and greatly simplifies navigation.  Some approaches require DME, and these approaches are labeled accordingly, such as VOR-DME or ILS-DME.

^[2] NOTAM:  Notice to Airmen is information not available to be published in advance, containing changes to the air traffic system.  This information is essential to flight safety.

^[3] DUAT:  A computerized service providing weather & flight planning information.  It can be used instead of a call to a government weather briefer at (800) WX-BRIEF.  I generally download the weather from DUATs first, try to digest the information myself and then call the briefer and follow along.

^[4] Hypoxia is the effect on the human body of an insufficient supply of oxygen.

^[5] A Localizer approach gives very accurate left-right guidance to a runway, but no high-low guidance, like an ILS approach.

^[6] Global Positioning System approaches are an interesting-type of non-precision approach.  You get superb information regarding the aircraft's position and these approaches are generally very easy because the GPS leads you through each component.  The hardest part is actually programming the GPS, and having to program it in-flight as the flight plan or clearance changes at the same time as actually flying the aircraft is difficult.

^[7] Aircraft flying IFR are identified by four-digit transponder codes.  These codes help identify the aircraft on the controller's radar.  Some codes are reserved.  7700 is for emergencies, 7600 is for lost communication, 7500 is for hijacking.  An aircraft with lost communication would continue on the IFR clearance and ATC would work to keep other traffic out of the way.  Squawking 7600 for fun would be very naughty.