Learning Experience

With just a few hours of actual instrument flying since my nearly year-old instrument ticket had been issued, I decided I was ready for my first solo cross-country flight through the clouds. A trip to far northeastern Indiana for an overnight at an aviation conference was in the offing. Just more than an hour's flight time away, it seemed liked the perfect test flight. I would discover later that I was perhaps not as prepared as I would have liked.

My prior experience in instrument meteorological conditions (IMC) was a scant eight hours and a handful of actual instrument approaches, all with instructors. But I had a solid 140 hours simulated and had completed hundreds of approaches under the hood. My confidence was growing but I still wondered whether it was time. An experienced pilot friend, Jay Yeager, listened to my trepidations and acknowledged my concerns but finally said, "At some point, you are just going to have to go out and do it." With his words rolling around in my subconscious, I began to prepare to end my flirtation with IMC.

When I planned my 135-mile flight direct from Eagle Creek Airpark west of Indianapolis (EYE) to Tri-State Steuben County Airport (ANQ) in northeast Indiana, the AOPA Internet Flight Planner predicted an hour and 10 minutes en route. Ceilings in central Indiana were about 3,500 feet broken. A telephone call to the AWOS at ANQ told me the ceiling was overcast at 2,200 feet agl with 10 miles visibility. En route, clouds were expected from 5,000 to 6,000 feet msl.

With the local elevation at 995 feet msl, I would likely come out of the clouds about 500 feet above the final approach fix.

After a launch off Runway 3, I was quickly cleared to my 5,000-foot cruising altitude and caught a good tailwind in VFR conditions. As I was handed off from Indianapolis Approach to Grissom Approach, I began to skip through the clouds and soon I was enveloped completely. But the ride was smooth and I began to feel quite comfortable. I was handed off to the controllers at Fort Wayne International (FWA), who would have me until ANQ, about 50 nautical miles to the north of FWA. I was still too far out for the AWOS at ANQ and was about to switch to the ATIS at FWA just to get a sense of the local weather when I heard incoming pilots complain about the visibility at FWA. The controller reported a rain squall had settled over the field. Visibility was down to two and one-quarter miles, far less than the briefer had forecast. Fort Wayne, my alternate, was looking a little dicey.

Just then I started picking up the AWOS at ANQ. Visibility remained at 10 miles, but the ceilings had dropped to 1,500 feet with a crosswind at about eight knots from the southeast. My concern edged up a notch as this put me in the clouds 700 feet below what I had visualized when I left EYE. Warily I looked over the missed approach information a straight climb and then a teardrop entry into the hold. But then I wondered, What then? FWA was now questionable. I had more than three and one-half hours of fuel for a trip back to EYE but I don't recall thinking that was an option.

The controller then broke into my mental gymnastics and crisply asked me which approach I wanted. I requested the GPS Runway 5 as I was on an intercept for the final approach course and the crosswind didn't make Runway 23 look any more promising. I dropped to 2,700 feet when I was established on final. A new controller told me I could switch to advisory and cancel IFR. I asked him if I could stay with him until the final approach fix. He said that was fine and he clicked off. I crossed the final approach fix thick in the clouds and said nothing to the controller as I whistled past, descending toward the minimums of 1,400 feet. I was not holding course well and swerved some. I started thinking this was not a good idea and started wondering what I was trying to prove.

To compound my anxious state at this point, I confused the minimum descent altitude with the ceiling. If the ceilings are 1,500 and my minimums are 1,400, I asked myself, am I about to break out 100 feet above minimums? Was the ceiling below minimums? Am I really prepared for a missed approach and a diversion to my now questionable alternate? I never planned to do my first instrument approach to within a whisper of minimums.

Seconds later, the clouds were gone. I glanced up and saw the field slightly to the right. I don't think I will ever forget the image of that airport. Whisps of rain kissed the windshield as I told Fort Wayne Approach I had the field, canceled my IFR clearance, and flipped to ANQ unicom for an uneventful landing. Taxiing in, I checked the AWOS and learned ceilings had dropped to 1,100 feet half what they were when I left Eagle Creek. Would I have made the trip if I had known the ceilings would go that low?

As I thought back on the flight I realized that some proactive steps could have lowered the tension. First, I should have had a better idea of where clearer weather was and been prepared to head there. As soon as I had the ceilings at ANQ, I should have added them to the field elevation of 995 and known that I would likely break out of the clouds at about 2,500 feet msl an altitude that should have been written on my kneeboard in big numbers. Finally, even though I had FWA's approaches marked in my approach plate book, I should have picked another alternate more than 50 miles from my planned destination figuring bad weather would probably exist in such close proximity.

I suspect that an instrument pilot with even just a half-dozen actual approaches in his or her logbook would not consider this approach to be particularly tough. In hindsight, I recall feeling anxious and worried but I was never terrified. When I apply the lessons of this flight to my next instrument flight and approach, I wonder if all the anxiety will disappear. My guess is a certain amount of nerves is a good thing.

"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.