Big Weather

Recently I had a great exercise in flight planning, flight plan deviation, and weather flying. It all began a couple of Friday mornings ago with a three legged flight to Charleston, SC by way of Columbia, MO and Birmingham (Bessemer), AL. I was headed to a conference with stops to pick up a friend in Columbia and my wife in Birmingham. I was flying 37 Delta, my 310R, and skies were 1,500 overcast for the Kansas City to Columbia leg. The flight was uneventful as was the approach (ILS 2) and landing at Columbia. I say uneventful but it was my first approach in IMC in nearly 90 days. I frequently fly practice approaches with a view limiting device but it is not the same as flying approaches in the clouds. 1,500 overcast was a nice way to knock the rust loose and considering what the next leg had in store for me, I'm glad to have had the practice.

On the ground looking at the computer at the FBO and on the telephone with Flight Service I noted that the large storm system over Alabama was not moving and had intensified a bit since my departure from Kansas City. Visibility at Bessemer was still above minimums so I decided to launch even though my Flight Service Specialist threw up every sort of warning against it. Let me be clear: had Bessemer been forecast below minimums at my intended time of arrival I would have altered my plans and aimed for another destination from which I could reassess on the ground. With a Strike Finder and Datalink weather on board and visibility forecast to be above minimums, I felt comfortable filing for my intended destination.

I filed direct Bessemer (KEKY) and briefed my passenger on the finer points of emergency procedures and my self imposed sterile cockpit rules. Takeoff was routine and I hand flew 37D up to our assigned altitude of 11,000 feet MSL. Upon reaching altitude I engaged the autopilot, reviewed the cruise checklist, and gave my passenger an overview of the systems and controls of the Cessna 310R. As it turned out, Glenn, my passenger, had been a frequent small airplane passenger while growing up in Wisconsin and Illinois. His father had lived "the dream" in the late 1950's commuting from the family farm to his workplace in a Piper Cub.

Cloud tops rose from about 5,000 MSL over Columbia to about 10,000 over Dyersberg, Tennessee and Datalink weather was showing the system stalled over Biringham. After consulting my enroute maps I altered my route of flight to go direct to Gadsen VOR thereby putting me along the eastern edge of the system. My plan was to fly this route as far as needed with the hope that conditions would allow me to turn into the sytem and fly the shortest route possible running perpandicular to the front directly to Bessemer. If conditions didn't improve I could always land at Northeast Alabama Regional (KGAD) and wait out the storm.

As luck would have it, the system showed signs of weakening with a bit of movement to the northeast. This gave me a great opportunity to turn into the front about twenty miles before reaching Gadsen. It helped that by that time I was talking with Birmingham approach and approach weather radar is far more detailed than center weather. The approach guys walked me through the system (I had been in IMC for the better part of an hour at that point) and I was able to confirm lightening activity exclusively to the north of me via my Strike Finder. I flew the RNAV (GPS) Rwy 5 at Bessemer as the ILS glidescope was non-functional. The LPV profile has a DA of 250 feet AGL (50 feet higher than the ILS DA) and ceilings were as advertised -- 300 feet. This was the closest I'd ever flown to the DA before committing to a landing and I must have reviewed the missed approach procedure five times between being assigned vectors to final and reaching the final approach fix.

While the lightening and thunder had decreased for our arrival, the rain intensity had picked up a notch or two. Cisse met us at the airport after driving in from Birmingham and the three of us waited about 45 minutes for the rain to let up as piling into 37D in the rain makes for an uncomfortable flight. Our departure began uneventfully but within five miles of the airport the storms seemed to rebuild around us. It was a bumpy climb to 11,000 feet but once there, turbulence was suprisingly light -- so light, in fact, that Cisse was able to get in about 30 minutes of sleep. Storm conditions lessoned considerably within 45 minutes of takeoff and my concerns moved to icing as outside air temperature was hovering below freezing and we were still in the clouds. Sure enough, a trace of rime ice over Atlanta quickly ramped up to light icing and my request for 9,000 feet was promptly approved. Ice was melting after just 500 feet of decent and was entirely gone with no more appearing for the balance of the flight at 9,000. We broke out of the clouds on decent into Charleston at about 6,000 and enjoyed the lights of the city. The city lights were bright enough that I had a bear of a time keeing the RJ I was assigned to follow in my sights.

All in all this was a great flight. 6.3 hours -- the majority of which were in actual instrument conditions. Lots of decision making going on. Everything I have been taught was called upon me for this flight.