Never Again: Rough passage

One hour prior to departure I contacted flight service, and the briefer indicated that two turboprops descending in the area had reported light rime ice between 4,000 feet and 2,000 feet near Dubuque, Iowa; there were no specific reports for the tops or the bottoms, but tops were forecast to be about 6,000 feet after leaving FLD and then VFR as I neared Kirkville, Iowa.

After takeoff from FLD in the 1963 182F, I found that the ceiling was about 2,500 feet. I contacted Milwaukee Approach and asked for information on the tops, as I did not want to be in the clouds for too long because of the possibility of icing. Milwaukee Approach indicated that the tops had been reported at 4,000 feet and it was clear on top. I requested my clearance and I was cleared as filed and to climb to 8,000 feet.

I set power and pitot heat and started a high-speed climb, but to my surprise I picked up light rime ice on the windshield. After leveling off at 8,000 feet, I did my cruise checklist, turned on the autopilot, and was cleared direct to Madison. My wife opened her book and started reading as she usually does when we are comfortable in cruise.

After passing Madison I noticed a little roughness in the engine. I thought it might be carburetor ice, so I turned the carb heat on for a moment and then back off; then I started to play with the mixture, thinking perhaps I had it too lean. This did not help much, and in the meantime, I was losing altitude, as I was not paying attention. I reached for the throttle to add power, and to my surprise it would not go any farther. That’s when Milwaukee Approach asked if I had trouble and if I needed any assistance; this of course put my wife on high alert.

I advised approach that we were having some issues with the power and I was trying to troubleshoot, so the controller gave me a block altitude of 6,000 feet to 8,000 feet and asked me to contact Chicago Center.

Soon after I changed frequency, the engine began to run rough, I turned carb heat full on and this seem to help, but when I turned it off the engine just got worse so I left it on. This was my first real emergency—above a cloud deck, with no visible ground below me and a rough-running engine. I declared an emergency and asked Chicago Center for the closest airport; I also turned off the autopilot to hand-fly the airplane. Center said Dubuque was 25 miles in front and Madison about the same distance, so I advised them that I wanted to return to Madison. As soon as I began to turn, the engine became worse; I asked Center if there were other airports closer, as I did not believe I was going to be able to make Dubuque or Madison. The controller pointed out the airport of Mineral Point at my nine o’clock and 10 miles. I immediately turned toward the airport and looked up the approach plate.

The engine began to surge, and I realized that the propeller governor was acting up as it was trying to maintain 2,200 rpm. I thought maybe we were losing oil, as well. I lowered the rpm, and this seemed to help with the surging. Frankly, I was not paying any attention to any of the engine instruments as my attention was focused on trying to get us on the ground safely and though the overcast.

I was able to maintain about 7,500 feet. The controller said something about descend and maintain 3,000 feet, but I told the controller I was going to maintain my current altitude until I was over the airport. My main concern was being in the clouds for a long time and then having to deal with ice in addition to the rough-running engine.

When I pulled out the plates for the airport, the first one that popped up was the RNAV for Runway 4, in direct line to where I was coming from. Since I have georeferenced approach plates from ForeFlight, I was able to get a situational awareness, and when I was over the airport I decided that since I had some power that it would be best for me to fly into a straight line on the approach rather than spiral through the clouds. I turned in the opposite direction from the airport, following the approach path, and when I was somewhat close to the final approach fix, I turned back, got the airplane lined up, and told my wife that we were going to descend somewhat rapidly in order to minimize our time in the clouds. I advised Chicago Center that were descending, and he asked me to change frequency, which I did. I reduced power and put the nose down to get about 1,100 fpm descent.

I believe it was about 2,000 feet when we broke out of the clouds completely, and the airport was right in front of us. I then realized that I was so focused on the approach through the clouds I had completely forgotten about making any announcements on the frequency.

After shutting down, we sat in the airplane for about 10 minutes thanking God for taking us down safely. I called flight service and told them to call Chicago Center and tell them we were on the ground safely.

After, on engine teardown, it was discovered that a couple of hydraulic lifters were clogged with gunk. This prevented complete combustion in two cylinders and caused the misfire.

Lessons learned from this experience:

1. Fly the airplane.

2. Stay in the clear and as high as possible until you can make a landing.

3. You are the pilot in command; do not let ATC get you any lower or into the clouds. The controller is sitting in a nice, comfortable room; he has no idea as to what is going on outside and at your altitude.

I thank the AOPA Air Safety Institute for putting out a lot of training material, which I review on a regular basis. It is one of the factors that affected the successful outcome of this flight. Could I have done things better and different? Sure. However, when you are in the emergency and the adrenaline is pumping, you may not be able to think very clearly or have the time to do other things—so concentrate on flying the airplane.AOPA

Jose G. Riera is a private pilot who lives in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.