I had taken off from my home airport in fine weather with a gentle wind out of the west. I spent some time just flying and enjoying the scenery and then decided to head back for some touch-and-go practice. The automated weather observation system reported winds were 250 at 8, gusting to 12 knots. My options were Runway 34 or Runway 29. Listening to the common traffic advisory frequency at the nontowered airport told me that traffic was using Runway 34. Although this meant the wind would be 90 degrees to the left of the airplane, I figured this was a good chance to work on crosswind landings, so I joined the pattern for Runway 34.
I did a nice approach, lined up with the centerline, crossed controls, gentle landing. I felt pretty good about that landing and took off for another one. I climbed back up, got back in the pattern, and tuned to the AWOS again to see what the wind was doing. Now it was reading 250 at 10, gusting to 18. I debated pulling out and re-entering for Runway 29, but there were still a couple of airplanes in the pattern for Runway 34, and I didn't want to risk criss-crossing them. Besides, I had just done a great landing with a good crosswind, and so why not do it again? I told myself to be tough, and not wimp out. Big mistake.
My approach was right on the money. The pilot in the airplane taking off ahead radioed, "Just wanted to let you know that's a pretty stiff crosswind out there." I thanked him and concentrated on just the right amount of left aileron and right rudder to keep the airplane's nose lined up. Things were looking good as I made a gentle touchdown on the upwind wheel first, then settled down the other wheel, lowered the nose, and started the ground roll. I was just feeling relieved to be down when suddenly I was caught by a nasty side gust. The airplane's upwind wing lifted, the nose weathervaned into the wind, and I was headed for the grass at a crazy angle. I hit the brakes hard, which served to prang the prop pretty noisily. I somehow managed to kick enough rudder to swerve the airplane back down and around. I can only imagine what this wild maneuver must have looked like to an observer. Amazingly, the engine didn't stop, and I was able to continue to the first taxiway and back to the FBO, very shaken and chagrined.
The FBO owner was naturally distraught to see his airplane so mistreated, but he gave me a hug and said at least I wasn't hurt. After assessing the damage, he said I was lucky to have come out of it as well as I did. I had indeed for a moment thought I was going to actually cartwheel the poor airplane or end up nose-down in the grassy median. In addition to the now-curled prop, my nerves and my confidence were severely damaged. I told the owner I was never going to fly again, but he refused to let me follow that line of thought, saying if I quit, that would be the biggest tragedy of the whole affair. He said, "Learn from your mistakes and move on." (He's a great guy!)
I have relived this episode a hundred times and this is what I learned:
- Always, always, always choose the safest runway. Both runways were available and active. Why did I use 34 with a 90-degree wind gusting to 18 kt? Runway 29 would have reduced the crosswind to a more manageable 40 degrees.
- Don't try to be "tough" (the FAA calls it the "macho" attitude). If there is an easier or safer route, choose it over the tougher, more dangerous path. Flying is challenging enough without going out of your way to look for trouble.
- Don't be a lemming and follow others into risk. Many times the traffic at a nontowered airport seems to default to one runway--maybe because the previous airplane used it--when the winds would seem to dictate use of another runway. Don't be afraid to buck the trend and go for the safest runway; just communicate your intentions to the other traffic.
- Respect the wind. Even if you feel pretty proficient with a good crosswind, be extra wary of gusting winds. They can surprise you if you let your guard down (see "Sock It To Me!," p. 22).
- Don't ever let your guard down. You're not done flying until the airplane is tied down or in the hangar.
- Even when startled, be judicious with the brakes. Control with rudder.
- Don't ever forget to position ailerons fully for the wind. I learned the hard way that wind can get under your wings and knock you around even when your wheels are on the ground.
- Have renter's insurance.
- And remember, for everything else, there's MasterCard.
Of course, all of the above had been taught well by my instructor. None of what I learned in this experience was really new, and none of the individual actions would have been a huge problem. This mishap was the result of a half-dozen little errors that added up to one big problem. I am sure that is the way many flying tragedies happen. Perhaps I should be thankful I learned my lesson in a relatively painless way.
My ground antics were expensive and stupid, and they sure as heck bruised my ego, if nothing else. Experienced aviators told me about the stupid things they've done, and they still fly. Then my husband regaled me with tales of the dumb things he's done on motorcycles, particularly in his early years of riding--and he still rides. So, I'm back to flying again, wiser and warier.
By Cathy Migell
"Learning Experiences" is presented to enhance safety by providing a forum for students and pilots to learn from the experiences of others. It is intended to provoke thought and discussion, acknowledging that actions taken by the authors were not necessarily the best choices under the circumstances. We encourage you to discuss any questions you have about a particular scenario with your flight instructor.
Related Articles
