I was a passenger in a flight of three airplanes heading for Alaska via Spokane, Washington. Because of the deteriorating weather conditions in the mountains, we had stopped at Bowman Field in Anaconda, Montana, where we camped under the airplanes for the night.
A check with flight service the following morning hinted of continuous light rain throughout the mountains along our route of flight. Other aircraft coming through the Interstate 90 mountain pass had stated that visibility was "about one mile or so."
This report sounded all right to two of the three pilots, as they were IFR-qualified and did not feel threatened by it. The other stated that he needed a qualified instrument pilot with him, in case things got bad. Since I was a CFII and riding as a passenger in another aircraft, the group decided that I should fly with him in the lead airplane.
We departed Anaconda under partly cloudy skies. Approaching the Deer Lodge-City-County Airport we met scattered rain showers with a lower ceiling, and then continuous rain. We slowly descended to around 800 feet above the highway as we tried to remain out of the clouds. Drummond came into view with no improvements in the weather. We maintained communication with the airplanes following, which were about five miles behind us.
As we were passing over Missoula, the clouds appeared darker. My pilot continued to perform as I had expected. Because of this confidence in my pilot, I may have become too relaxed as I continued to scan the chart in my lap.
I must have been looking down at the sectional for about three minutes when my pilot said, "I think that I'm going to need you. I'm having trouble keeping it straight." As I glanced up, I saw that we were in the clouds.
"What are we doing here?" I yelled as I grabbed the controls. "How long have we been in the clouds? We're below mountain peak clearance and can hit one of them if we stay here."
"It's been awhile," he said.
I added full power and raised the nose of the aircraft to obtain the maximum rate of climb. I knew where we were and had to get above the mountain peaks as best I could, in spite of the forecast icing in clouds above 9,000 feet. I instructed the pilot to keep an eye out for any dark areas (terrain) while we climbed and had him dial 7700 on the transponder. I needed to contact ATC so that we didn't run into anyone while climbing out of this mess.
"Are we gonna die?" he anxiously asked.
"There's a very good chance of it," I responded.
I then called to the other aircraft in our group and got no response. I called again and thought that I heard a faint reply.
"Turn around, guys!" I yelled. "We've got a problem here and we're trying to climb out of the pass. If we get through, we'll telephone flight service and let them know that we made it. Our destination is Felts Field in Spokane." No response was heard. Perhaps the mountains were blocking our signal.
While climbing, we saw a dark area straight ahead of us. I immediately turned 20 degrees to the right. As we turned, I saw a steep wooded mountainside and a large white painted cross on the hillside.
I called Missoula Flight Service, which provided me with Salt Lake Center's frequency in the area. We attempted to contact Salt Lake but got no response. Perhaps we were still too low? About one minute later I called again.
"Mooney Niner-Six-One-Two-Victor, we show you leaving 8,000. Fly heading of 330. Report reaching 11,000," the controller responded. What a great sound!
"One-Two-Victor, squawk 4538. Are there any problems that I should be aware of?" asked Salt Lake Center.
"Negative. I got into some problems at a lower altitude and was concerned about running into IFR traffic while climbing." At that moment I noticed that my airspeed was dropping even though I was now level at 11,000 feet. We were now accumulating ice.
"We'll be able to get you lower in about 20 miles. Felts is VFR," the controller said.
On went the pitot heat and soon the airspeed needle came to life, creeping up to show actual airspeed. Everything became routine from this point on. After contacting Spokane, we were allowed to descend into warmer air and VMC. Upon landing, I immediately called flight service and informed them that we were now on the ground in Spokane. Our message was received with the comment that a search for us had been scheduled to commence in 10 minutes. The other members of our group landed in Missoula.
This event has not dampened my desire for flying. I still fly through that region annually. However, I am the PIC of all flights when there is questionable weather in mountainous terrain. This is not an area to be lax in, especially in weather that is below minimums.
Dave Stewart, AOPA 630415, of Valparaiso, Indiana, is a CFII and commercial pilot with 2,800 hours of flight time. He has been flying for 23 years and owns a 1964 Piper Comanche 250.
"Never Again" is presented to enhance safety by providing a forum for pilots to learn from the experiences of others. Manuscripts should be typewritten, double-spaced, and sent to: Editor, AOPA Pilot, 421 Aviation Way, Frederick, Maryland 21701.
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