Imagine a two-seat trainer is taxiing out from the FBO’s ramp for takeoff on a quiet morning at a nontowered airport. The only other sign of life is an aircraft making its way toward the tiedown rows at the far end of the field.
On arrival at the runup area, the solo student pilot in the trainer performs the pretakeoff duties. That’s followed by a proper broadcast on the common traffic advisory frequency and a dutiful scanning of the pattern (especially the final approach).
All’s clear, so it is out onto the runway for a soft-field takeoff to begin the day’s exercises. Yoke back, throttle full forward without stopping, accelerate, ease it into the air at the lowest possible airspeed—which occurs just past the runway intersection. There the student pilot lowers the nose to accelerate in ground effect to a safe climb airspeed.
There is a slight hump at the runway intersection that obscures the far portion of the field, so this moment offers a first unobstructed view of the departure end—where another aircraft is rolling for takeoff directly toward the accelerating trainer.
Before the student pilot can process the scene and react, the trainer has overflown the other aircraft, which continues its run and departs the area without a word.
Wow. Later, the student reviews the event with a flight instructor, coming to the conclusion that, although all required pretakeoff tasks had been performed properly, a better appreciation of the airport’s physical limitations—that hump in the runway—and more skepticism about the intentions of the other aircraft seen taxiing would have avoided the conflict. The wind had been calm, but the airport had no designated calm-wind runway. Fortunately, there had been enough separation that the likelihood of a collision was remote, but that was just pure luck. It was also pure happenstance that the student noticed the other aircraft. Had a normal takeoff been performed, the danger might not have been observed at all.
Runway surface imperfections and other limitations on see-and-avoid operations are notorious causal influences in accident reports. The remarks section of airfield listings in the Airport/Facilities Directory includes an endless variety of visual constraints such as this notation for Kingston-Ulster Airport in New York: “No line of sight between Rwy 33 hold line and acft in final 0.25 mile of apch to Rwy 33.”
The fast closure rates and surprise factor of an opposite-direction conflict can conspire to produce unhappy results. On August 8, 2008, the pilot of a Weatherley 201 ag aircraft took off from the south end of a runway in Creston, Illinois. The runway “had a hill about midway which blocked the view of the north end of the runway,” said a National Transportation Safety Board accident report.
The pilot “cleared for traffic and started his takeoff roll. Approaching the crest of the runway he saw an airplane landing in front of him. He steered his airplane into corn near the runway to avoid the collision.”
The NTSB concluded that the accident’s causes included “the pilot’s selection of the unsuitable terrain next to the runway to avoid the landing traffic. Contributing to the accident was the hill in the middle of the runway that blocked the pilot’s view of the other traffic and the high vegetation near the runway.”
If you thumb through various editions or the A/FD you will observe a wide range of visual restrictions, physical limitations, and obstructions noted in the airport remarks sections of airport listings. In many cases, visual inspections are recommended before using the runway. (Also check for seasonal conditions such as early spring softness, mud, or flooding. That could mean contacting the operator.)
The airport you have selected as a destination shouldn’t be in as poor condition as the strip in rural New York state that years ago was listed as “closed except for high-wing aircraft,” with runway condition poor, not maintained, and with debris, loose gravel, weeds growing along the runway length, and farm equipment crossing the runway.
But any nontowered airport—whether rough and ragged, or built and maintained to perfection—holds the potential hazard of an aircraft taking off or landing in the opposite direction, even if that course of action seems illogical, unwise, or unlikely to you.
Suppress any complacency, keep your eyes and ears sharp, and know where your airport is likely to conceal a rude surprise.
