The Scariest Thing I've Ever Seen

"Jay Honeck" wrote in message
oups.com...
Heck, if I could even find a place to hang the danged thing, I wouldn't
be able to hear it, underneath the 13 layers of clothing I was wearing!

You could probably hear the pilot yelling expletives without listening to a
radio.

No, I don't normally carry my scanner, but I know where it is and will turn
it on when things might get interesting.

Obviously a 1920's mail pilot in a time warp.

Yep, Jack Knight would have thought that this weather was no big deal.
And he did it in an open cockpit!

In fact, this February marks the 85th anniversary of his epic flight
through Iowa City. This flight was truly the birth of
transcontinental air mail service, which was the impetus for all
transcontinental commercial passenger service.

Read the story he
http://www.alexisparkinn.com/the_iowa_city_airport.htm We're trying
to get a historic marker put up at our airport to commemorate the
flight.
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com

Jay Honeck wrote:

As anyone in the Upper Midwest knows, we're getting our first real winter in
many years. Temperatures well below zero (we set the record on December
7th, at minus 19), and snow every day are making life hard on everyone.

Yesterday we got hit hard, with another all-day snow. At times visibility
was reduced to zero, as the white stuff fell in dense waves. Luckily, there
was little wind, or blizzard conditions would have prevailed.

As I was out shoveling the hotel sidewalks for the fifth time, I heard a
wowing engine noise overhead, as the pilot went from flight idle to full
power. The constant speed prop took a second to catch, and then the sound
rose into a crescendo -- right over my head.

I couldn't believe it.

Looking up vainly into the intense snowfall, I followed my ears with my
eyes. Finally I caught a glimpse of the plane -- a single engine Cessna
182 -- as it flashed overhead.

In nearly knife-edge flight.

At that moment a guest walked past me on the way to the lobby. He mentioned
that it seemed like an awful night to be flying, by which point I was
already running toward the sound. The plane had disappeared into the snow
and murk, behind our Airport Building (the one closest to the runway), and I
strained to hear the *crump* sound that a light plane makes when it hits the
ground.

With the deep snow, I couldn't run fast enough, so I just stood there,
straining my eyes and ears, hoping to see the guy come around. Suddenly,
there he was -- this time directly over the field, banked at a 60 degree
angle, obviously trying desperately to keep the field in sight as he
circled.

Then, poof, he was gone. The snow just swallowed him up again.

By now, my heart was pounding. I knew this couldn't end well, and I ran
toward the airport, again straining to hear anything that might indicate a
direction of flight.

Suddenly I spotted him again, in an impossibly tight base-leg turn, barely
100 feet off the ground, coming around for Rwy 30. The wind was not
favoring this runway, but I'm sure he was just willing to take "any port in
a storm"... First visible, than not, I caught a glimpse of his landing
light again as he touched down, theoretically on the unplowed runway...

He touched down well past the halfway point of the runway, and was going way
too fast.

Now at a dead gallop, I was able to see him slide to a stop, just before the
end of the runway. The deep snow had saved him, and he stopped in an
impossibly short space...

Jogging back to my nearly-forgotten guest (who was trying to check in for
the night), I could only shake my head in wonder at what some guys will do
to fly.

It is truly amazing what a 182 can do! :-)

Matt (unfortunately a former 182 owner)

Charles K. Scott wrote:

On 9 Dec 2005 07:35:00 -0800, "Jay Honeck" wrote:


How he managed to do this in the failing light, in a driving snow-storm
and near-zero visibility is beyond me. He's one lucky SOB.


Jay, not sure about your term "driving snow-storm". Your first
description of the situation was that luckily, there was little to no
wind although lots of snow was falling.

Using the descriptor "driving" makes it sound like there was wind.

Thanks, Corky

Jay was running so fast that the snow seemed driving relative to him!
He's lost so much weight that he probably runs at 30 MPH now. :-)

Matt

Jay Honeck wrote:

Sorry. I guess it was only a "coasting" snow storm... Or, perhaps,
"running"?

"Walking"?

How 'bout "heavy snow."

George Patterson
Coffee is only a way of stealing time that should by rights belong to
your slightly older self.

"Gene Seibel" wrote in message
oups.com...
Obviously a 1920's mail pilot in a time warp.

And Jay is Rod Sterling?

Jay Honeck wrote:
My guess is that he flew the VOR 36 approach, accidentally over-flew
the airport (cuz he couldn't see it), spotted it at the northeast edge
of the airport property (where we are), racked it around to keep the
runway environment in sight (which is when I spotted him), lost the
airport again, and just kinda did a "fly out for 30 seconds, do a
tear-drop 180 degree turn, fly the reciprocal heading for 30 seconds,
and hope for the best" approach.
Hmmm...how come I don't see that on any of my approach plates? Oh,
that's right, because it's not there! As in, if you need to go missed,
follow the procedure. Cripes, he was lucky. Stupid...but lucky.



--
Jack Allison
PP-ASEL-IA Student
Arrow N2104T

"When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the Earth
with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there
you will always long to return"
- Leonardo Da Vinci

(Remove the obvious from address to reply via e-mail)

Charles K. Scott wrote:
On 9 Dec 2005 07:35:00 -0800, "Jay Honeck" wrote:

How he managed to do this in the failing light, in a driving snow-storm
and near-zero visibility is beyond me. He's one lucky SOB.

Jay, not sure about your term "driving snow-storm". Your first
description of the situation was that luckily, there was little to no
wind although lots of snow was falling.

Using the descriptor "driving" makes it sound like there was wind.

Doesn't really matter if there was wind or not. The aircraft
is moving at 80 knots or something like that....ever flown in
snow? It appears to be coming straight at you.

Doesn't really matter if there was wind or not. The aircraft
is moving at 80 knots or something like that....ever flown in
snow? It appears to be coming straight at you.

Boy, is that true. I've flown into snow showers a few times, and have
always been struck by the "time tunnel" effect when looking straight ahead.
Visibility down is usually okay, but ahead really goes downhill, fast. It's
like driving your car in a snowstorm at night -- the snow seems to be coming
right at your face.

Luckily, when it gets extremely cold around here, snow showers are often
like late-summer thunderstorms, in that they can be easily flown around.
The guy I wrote about wasn't in any "snow shower." He was stuck in a
wide-spread snow storm that stretched from Chicago all the way back to Des
Moines. When he flew in, visibility was measured in yards, and wildly
variable. He had no business flying in that, period.

But, he made it. This time.
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

"Jay Honeck" wrote in
Doesn't really matter if there was wind or not. The aircraft
is moving at 80 knots or something like that....ever flown in
snow? It appears to be coming straight at you.

Boy, is that true. I've flown into snow showers a few times, and have
always been struck by the "time tunnel" effect when looking straight
ahead. Visibility down is usually okay, but ahead really goes downhill,
fast. It's like driving your car in a snowstorm at night -- the snow
seems to be coming right at your face.

Luckily, when it gets extremely cold around here, snow showers are often
like late-summer thunderstorms, in that they can be easily flown around.
The guy I wrote about wasn't in any "snow shower." He was stuck in a
wide-spread snow storm that stretched from Chicago all the way back to Des
Moines. When he flew in, visibility was measured in yards, and wildly
variable. He had no business flying in that, period.

I don't doubt your ability to assess what happened, but did you talk to the
guy? In Southern Ontario and Upstate NY, lake effect means that it's almost
always snowing somewhere. PVFR is the norm. It looks crazy and it often
is. But it's something you get used to. Getting into places that look
impossible from the ground is often surprisingly easy. For example, most
pilots who fly in the north are comfortable descending into blowing snow for
a look at familiar terrain. "Comfortable" because clear air is always close
by above. The widespread snow you mention is problematic and you're
probably correct in your assessment. But, there's always another side.

moo