I
IFRTrainingNow
Guest
Did a flight today that I've done dozens of times before, except that I took a long detour to avoid nasty rainy weather/mist accompanied by lower visibilities. Most of the trip was uneventful, with rain and visibility fluctuating throughout the trip but always at safe levels. As I got under the bravo shelf near my destination things got a little more dicey. Ominous cells of light/moderate precipitation were like a fortress wall guarding me from a direct path back home.
When I was on the home stretch, only ~20 miles from home, I decided to thread the needle between 2 areas of light/moderate precip rather than take the longer route to the south. The gap was maybe 2 miles wide, each cell on my ADS-B radar looked like it was 5 to 8 mile diameter; the gap was also clearly visible to me visually (w/o radar) with rain clearly pouring down on either side. As I was just banked to shoot the gap and began to weave in between the cells I noticed they had gone from green to red on the radar, visually I could see the intensity looked less like a haze and more like an impenetrable wall. However, I felt committed to stay the course confident that I could get through it if I just stayed down the center.
You can probably guess what happened next.
It closed on me. Big time.
In a matter of maybe 1 minute it went from a comfortable 5 miles visibility with light rain to heavy rain with zero visibility. Zero visibility as in I couldn't see anything except for the raindrops on the windshield. At one point I'm fairly confident I couldn't even see my wingtip. I'm a VFR pilot only, and I've never been in conditions like this before, so this was discomforting in the extreme. I didn't panic, but I'm positive my heart rate was triple what it had been the prior minute. I made the call that I'd execute a turn to the south, which is what I'd decided prior to entering that system -- since better weather prevailed to the south rather than 180 degrees behind me.
During just a brief foray into the IMC, I can understand how all the textbook bad decisions are made (including my decision that put me there). Within 1 minute of entering the zero viz I had begun an unintentional slight left bank and begun descending. I didn't catch it until I noticed the DG was sweeping at about 2degrees/sec and then overcorrected (too much bank opposite). I had a little bit of a downdraft that caught me off guard, too. After stabilizing the roll and noticing my altitude was lower I pitched up, but it didn't stop the slow descent. That got me worried and then I focused a little too much on the descent and I started a slight bank again. Luckily after that I was able to gather my wits and balance my attention across instruments. I added power, then did a slow gentle turn to the south, and then once the turn was complete I climbed back to a better altitude. I then focused on nothing but straight and level all way out. About 5 minutes later I was out the other side where the sun was miraculously shining. Never seen such a welcome sight in my F life.
Doing a post-mortem on this, I know what went wrong. Multiple things:
1) Somehow I felt a deceiving and utterly foolish sense of comfort at my proximity to home. There was a sense of "I've done this trip 30x before. I'm almost there, not much bad stuff could happen at this point. I'm literally 10 minutes from landing. In 3 mins I'll even be able to see my airport."
2) The fact that I'd flown through light rain for nearly all of the trip, with visibilities constantly changing between 5-10miles, I'd made the sort of unconscious evaluation that any reduction in visibility would be short lived. Stupid, I know. But I can tell you now that is kind of what I was unconsciously thinking.
3) It's one of the few flights I've done without flight following. Given my location I easily could have contacted approach and asked for support. In retrospect I should have done this as soon as practical. Having a second pair of eyes on me and the traffic around me would have been the right move for both me and others (I only had traffic+wx up on the iPad). I didn't, I was too focused on getting out of the mess. Once I got it into straight and level I wasn't task saturated and it would have been a good time to get on the radio with them.
4) I made excuses to postpone my instrument training too long and it nearly cost me big time.
Things I did right (these do not excuse the things I did wrong, but they did help my situation):
1) For the first 80% of the trip I had taken the safer route and avoided the less predictable areas that were still technically VFR/MVFR, but with more rapidly changing conditions. Despite the substantially longer trip, it pays to take the path that leads to you actually arriving safely. If I had taken the shorter path, it could have been even uglier with fewer "outs".
2) I didn't panic when I hit the IMC and zero visibility. My heart rate spiked for sure, and I quickly knew I was in trouble, but I didn't panic. I focused on instruments only with only an occasional glance out the rain-covered windshield to avoid getting distracted/disoriented. I did make some unforced errors in scanning the panel and flying instruments, but I still did keep my fear suppressed and focused on what was needed to get out of it.
3) Before "threading the needle" between the systems, I had an "out" planned. I didn't have to think a whole hell of a lot about where I should go to get out of this, I was able to realize I was in over my head and put myself on the fastest path out of it. In an alternate universe things may have turned out really badly if I had to fumble around on the iPad and figure out where to go while also trying to fly solely on instruments for the first time.
I will be finishing my instrument rating with urgency and never making that mistake again.
I'll be grateful if my dumbas* mistake and lesson learned here can help anyone else avoid walking into the same trap.
When I was on the home stretch, only ~20 miles from home, I decided to thread the needle between 2 areas of light/moderate precip rather than take the longer route to the south. The gap was maybe 2 miles wide, each cell on my ADS-B radar looked like it was 5 to 8 mile diameter; the gap was also clearly visible to me visually (w/o radar) with rain clearly pouring down on either side. As I was just banked to shoot the gap and began to weave in between the cells I noticed they had gone from green to red on the radar, visually I could see the intensity looked less like a haze and more like an impenetrable wall. However, I felt committed to stay the course confident that I could get through it if I just stayed down the center.
You can probably guess what happened next.
It closed on me. Big time.
In a matter of maybe 1 minute it went from a comfortable 5 miles visibility with light rain to heavy rain with zero visibility. Zero visibility as in I couldn't see anything except for the raindrops on the windshield. At one point I'm fairly confident I couldn't even see my wingtip. I'm a VFR pilot only, and I've never been in conditions like this before, so this was discomforting in the extreme. I didn't panic, but I'm positive my heart rate was triple what it had been the prior minute. I made the call that I'd execute a turn to the south, which is what I'd decided prior to entering that system -- since better weather prevailed to the south rather than 180 degrees behind me.
During just a brief foray into the IMC, I can understand how all the textbook bad decisions are made (including my decision that put me there). Within 1 minute of entering the zero viz I had begun an unintentional slight left bank and begun descending. I didn't catch it until I noticed the DG was sweeping at about 2degrees/sec and then overcorrected (too much bank opposite). I had a little bit of a downdraft that caught me off guard, too. After stabilizing the roll and noticing my altitude was lower I pitched up, but it didn't stop the slow descent. That got me worried and then I focused a little too much on the descent and I started a slight bank again. Luckily after that I was able to gather my wits and balance my attention across instruments. I added power, then did a slow gentle turn to the south, and then once the turn was complete I climbed back to a better altitude. I then focused on nothing but straight and level all way out. About 5 minutes later I was out the other side where the sun was miraculously shining. Never seen such a welcome sight in my F life.
Doing a post-mortem on this, I know what went wrong. Multiple things:
1) Somehow I felt a deceiving and utterly foolish sense of comfort at my proximity to home. There was a sense of "I've done this trip 30x before. I'm almost there, not much bad stuff could happen at this point. I'm literally 10 minutes from landing. In 3 mins I'll even be able to see my airport."
2) The fact that I'd flown through light rain for nearly all of the trip, with visibilities constantly changing between 5-10miles, I'd made the sort of unconscious evaluation that any reduction in visibility would be short lived. Stupid, I know. But I can tell you now that is kind of what I was unconsciously thinking.
3) It's one of the few flights I've done without flight following. Given my location I easily could have contacted approach and asked for support. In retrospect I should have done this as soon as practical. Having a second pair of eyes on me and the traffic around me would have been the right move for both me and others (I only had traffic+wx up on the iPad). I didn't, I was too focused on getting out of the mess. Once I got it into straight and level I wasn't task saturated and it would have been a good time to get on the radio with them.
4) I made excuses to postpone my instrument training too long and it nearly cost me big time.
Things I did right (these do not excuse the things I did wrong, but they did help my situation):
1) For the first 80% of the trip I had taken the safer route and avoided the less predictable areas that were still technically VFR/MVFR, but with more rapidly changing conditions. Despite the substantially longer trip, it pays to take the path that leads to you actually arriving safely. If I had taken the shorter path, it could have been even uglier with fewer "outs".
2) I didn't panic when I hit the IMC and zero visibility. My heart rate spiked for sure, and I quickly knew I was in trouble, but I didn't panic. I focused on instruments only with only an occasional glance out the rain-covered windshield to avoid getting distracted/disoriented. I did make some unforced errors in scanning the panel and flying instruments, but I still did keep my fear suppressed and focused on what was needed to get out of it.
3) Before "threading the needle" between the systems, I had an "out" planned. I didn't have to think a whole hell of a lot about where I should go to get out of this, I was able to realize I was in over my head and put myself on the fastest path out of it. In an alternate universe things may have turned out really badly if I had to fumble around on the iPad and figure out where to go while also trying to fly solely on instruments for the first time.
I will be finishing my instrument rating with urgency and never making that mistake again.
I'll be grateful if my dumbas* mistake and lesson learned here can help anyone else avoid walking into the same trap.