A closer look at ADM
Fly back to Denver or wait it out?
I had been in Phoenix on business, shooting photos for a hotel. My trip required an overnight stay. A quick glance at weather and for the first time in a year the Denver area had a convective sigmet with severe storms predicted before, during, and after my expected time of arrival (ETA). Easy decision, I won't be going to Denver. Here was a clear choice to fly my alternate plan, visiting my parents and spending the night in Sierra Vista, Arizona, one hour away from Phoenix.
Refuel or non-stop?
Next day, the sigmet was gone. En route, weather was marginal at best, but certainly safe and flyable under instrument flight rules (IFR) with no forecast of ice. Storms were predicted to hold off until late afternoon, which would give me a window of opportunity to make it in before the buildups. In flight, skimming between layers and over the southern portion of Colorado, I listened to a Flight Watch weather update: "You'll want to get into the Denver area as soon as possible, severe storms are building earlier than expected," said the briefer with a hint of urgency. Of course I wanted to heed this timely advice, but my fuel tanks were dictating a different scenario.
The fuel table in the Mooney's pilot's operating handbook shows a duration of 6.5 hours at 52 percent power, flying at 15,000 feet. I had made the same five-hour flight from Arizona to Denver before, without refueling, while thinking I was carrying enough reserves. At the end of that flight, however, I had to execute a go-around because of a horribly botched approach; I checked the tanks the following day to find that the one I had been operating on during the go-around was close to bone dry! The other tank had little to offer, as well--my calculations must have been off.
This time, I had planned for a fuel stop at Pueblo, Colorado, even though those nagging external pressures were inviting me to press on. Smart move to land and refuel--after all, you can never have enough fuel, and landing also afforded me the luxury of a more thorough check of the weather. If conditions turned sour, I could wait it out on the ground. I'll admit, it was a tougher call than the preflight no-go decision.
Land or divert?
Pueblo offered full tanks and a newer weather update that looked promising. No radar returns yet, high ceilings, and moderate winds right down the runway centerline. Once airborne it was clear to see that storms were indeed building around me and that my last weather update really didn't give me the complete picture. I asked center to keep me posted on weather. Storms were now obvious and dark along the Front Range. My crab on final for Runway 33 was severe, almost sideways. Hmmm, no other fliers around at this always-busy nontowered field, I thought as I opted for a straight-in and announced my intentions. The AWOS was continuously reporting winds from 020 at 25 gusting to 30. Not good and not what I expected from the briefing; I was pretty happy I got fuel.
Wind shear was bouncing my airspeed 20 knots. The jolts of wind opened up a brand-new sweat gland on my forehead that started to pour like a faucet. I felt my grip tighten. OK, I thought, why am I doing this? Go around and try somewhere else. Anywhere with a wider, longer runway. Almost in ground effect, not lined up, tunnel vision, and still not making a timely go-around decision, I finally had a moment of clarity and applied full power. Departing the pattern I pulled out local airport charts that I had made handy for situations like this and dialed up the closest airport. Jeffco with Class Delta airspace was fewer than seven miles away.
"Jeffco Tower, Mooney Four-Zero-Mike is departing Erie, unable to land due to strong winds, inbound...say winds please."
The tower replied, "Jeffco winds 360 at 25, proceed inbound enter downwind midfield runway 29R."
I tried to remember crosswind rule of thumb calculations even though I knew instantly it was beyond my current personal limitations. Still I proceeded inbound, hoping to get clearance for the "almost always closed" Runway 2. I wasn't worried at all about fuel.
Landing Runway 29R? "Everyone else is making it in," I told myself as I turned final approach. Winds were now 010 at 25 gusting to 30! I had just passed the 50-hour mark in my 1966 Mooney. Strong gusty crosswinds, too strong for me. Either everyone else is brave or just really good. I'm neither! I thought.
"Winds, 360 at 25 gusting 30."
"Mooney Four-Zero-Mike, I can give you Runway 2 if you're unable to make it in on 29R." Saved!
"I'll take it now," I said as fast as I could, leaving my ego behind as two brave souls were cleared behind me to land on 29R, the runway that I was escaping now with a solid crosswind component of almost 24 kt.
"Continue downwind, I'll call your base...Cleared to land Runway 2," the friendly controller said. Uneventful landing. I'll pick up my plane tomorrow, I thought as I taxied with a sweaty grin.
Epilogue
The first decision that was made on the ground was easy and enabled me to fly the same trip another day. Decision two was trickier because I wanted to get in before the storms; the fact that I had made the same flight nonstop without refueling made me almost second-guess my fuel stop. Decision three should have been executed sooner while picking up the ASOS. Mooney did not publish a maximum demonstrated crosswind component for my aircraft; it was not required for certification at the time. However, the crosswinds were far beyond my own current limitations of no more than 12 kt. I should have asked for Runway 2 rather than hoping for the "runway gods" to answer my prayers.
Always have enough fuel and an alternate plan handy and ready to execute, keeping the deck stacked in your favor. As one instructor taught me, be pessimistic because rarely will conditions stay optimistic.
Here are some helpful tips:
For gusty conditions or wind shear, increase the approach speed by one-half the gust factor, or one half the reported airspeed loss because of wind shear. If the wind is eight kt gusting 20 kt, the gust factor is 12 kt, and you should add half the gust factor--six kt--to your normal approach speed. If other pilots report a 10-kt loss of airspeed on final because of wind shear, add half that loss--five kt--to your approach speed.
You should keep a crosswind component chart in the airplane or your flight bag, but if the chart isn't handy, here are some rough gauges. If the wind is 30 degrees off the nose, the crosswind component is half the total wind speed. If the wind is 50 degrees off, the crosswind component is roughly 75 percent of the wind speed. For 70 degrees, the crosswind component is about 90 percent of the wind speed.
By Brian Stearns
"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.
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