Flight Simulator "view" during IFR in the clouds

    Stuart Hirsch is a man with nerves of steel. This is a good quality for any flight instructor, but especially when an instrument training flight continues into the actual weather conditions for which we are practicing.

    For the uninitiated, IMC (Instrument Meteorological Conditions) is often a killer. One article I read claims that a non-instrument rated pilot has a life expectancy of about three minutes after entering clouds. Many (if not most) pilots who complete the IFR rating have never actually been "in the soup". In fact, many flight instructors of my acquaintance have never been pilot-in-command of an aircraft in IMC conditions. IFR is serious business, and it's easy to understand why flight instructors don't often bring students into IMC.

    Enter Stuart Hirsch, one of the relatively few, and me - one of the lucky students with some actual IFR time.

    The requirements for the instrument rating specify at least one "long cross country" flight of at least 250 miles. The flight must also include three different types of instrument approaches. Stuart and I had been trying to schedule this flight for some time, and this weekend the planets aligned favorably for us. The briefers spoke of mostly clear weather, although with some gusty winds. Stuart had me file an IFR flight plan for practice within the system, casually mentioning that it would be unlikely we would really need it. So at 9:30 we launched for Cortland, NY and its VOR approach.

    The flight to Cortland was uneventful, but I made one mistake on the approach that irritated me. I forgot to start my timer after reaching the final approach fix. That's a fairly serious mistake on a non-precision approach, but hopefully making it will cement in my mind never to do it again.

    We landed and filed for our next two legs, to Syracuse and thereon to Wilkes Barre, PA. There was a comical moment in attempting to get our clearance in the plane. Cortland County Airport has no tower, and no antenna with which to contact clearance delivery on the ground. So we had to use a phone to get the clearance, which usually works well. It turns out there was problem in the system, and we ended up having to call three separate facilities before finally receiving our clearance.

    Once in the airplane, it was a short flight to Syracuse. I knew from the weather briefing that there was some sort of problem with the ILS system there, but we were hoping it might be corrected before our arrival. However, when we asked for the practice ILS we were told it was inoperative. I then asked if they had an NDB approach available, and luckily there was one for the active runway. NDB approaches are kind of funny - they work very well if you know how to handle ADF navigation. But they can be confusing, and it can be hard to recover if the approach becomes unstable. It may be for this reason that some airline pilots claim the acronym for this kind of approach is really "Not Done by Me".

    In any case, the NDB approach went well and I soon found myself lined up nicely for runway 22. The last time I had visited Syracuse I had parked the plane across from a line of F-16's from the Air National Guard unit based there. As we taxied in I searched for the "Fighting Falcons", but saw none. Stuart remarked that they were on the other side of the airport and out of sight. After parking the plane at Piedmont Aviation we went for lunch at the famous Dinosaur BBQ. After our meal of ribs and chicken I worried that the plane might be over gross weight when we took off again...

    Back at Piedmont, we added some fuel and were soon taxiing back out with an IFR clearance to Wilkes Barre. Ground Control instructed us to "taxi and hold short of Runway 22 at intersection Juliet", and as we pulled up to the hold short line we found out why we were waiting. A group of four F-16's were taking off, one after another! They rotated and lifted off just as they passed us. I took off my headsets and opened the window so I could hear them roar off.

    We were soon airborne, and after thanking the tower for the great display of military aviation, we were soon headed southbound for Pennsylvania. I happily intercepted radials, identified intersections, and answered several calls from Approach Control. Then there was a stretch of very light workload which I used to set up for possible approaches into Wilkes Barre. Stuart and I also began to notice the clouds ahead of us were looking quite low and dark. We dialed up various types of weather information and learned that we might enter actual IMC on the way into Wilkes Barre.

    Now there's IFR when you are in and out of scattered clouds, and then there's "sit-up-straight-and-pay-attention" IFR where you can see NOTHING out the window. We encountered the latter. I had been in the soup once before with Stuart, about two years ago, and it took me a few minutes to get back in the groove of doing the real thing. It's much different than using the "foggles" on a clear day to limit your view.

    Actual IMC is very disorienting, and the plane can get away from you quickly if you let it. The trick is - never let it get away from you. I consciously loosened my grip on the yolk and told myself to relax and fly it just like the simulator. After a few minutes, and a couple of stern reminders from Stuart, I felt I had things under control. I consciously reminded myself to maintain my situational awareness, and focused on our position and how the controllers were setting us up for the approach.

    I was glad I had set up early for the approach because any distractions might have seriously thrown me off. One of the rules of thumb of IMC is don't make rapid head movements. There was relief in knowing I had the approach plate on my lap, and didn't need to reach into the back seat for it. The approach went well, and we broke out of the clouds about 800 feet above the runway. Not quite down to minimums, but close enough to make me feel accomplished. My first actual instrument approach!

    After landing we went indoors to catch our breath and check weather for our final leg. The briefing revealed more instrument weather ahead, probably breaking up near our home airport. We checked fuel and oil and then fired up. Obtaining our clearance was easy, although we had to wait on the ground for a VFR helicopter that had become caught near clouds. As we sat on the runway we saw light snow falling and low clouds everywhere, and I marveled that we were about to launch into these conditions. As I say, not every instructor is confident enough to undertake such a flight with a student.

    We entered the clouds shortly after takeoff, and I felt good at the controls. We intercepted the necessary radials to get us to RAGER intersection on the way to Monticello. Although we hoped to shoot the VOR approach into our home airport, the in-flight weather suggested that the precision ILS at nearby Sullivan County International would be a better choice. Approach Control altered our routing accordingly, and then I received the next surprise of our already unusual flight.

    Control called us up and said, "Warrior 41499, another aircraft is starting the approach into Sullivan at this time. Proceed direct Monga [NDB] and hold as published on the localizer, maintain 5000. Time is now 1635 Zulu, expect further clearance by 1650."

    I was stunned - a real hold! During IFR training you spend a lot of time learning how to properly enter and execute holding patterns. The FAA has deemed these crucial skills despite the fact that most instrument pilots will go their whole lives without ever having to execute one. But here I was confronted with the real thing, in the clouds. And an NDB hold, no less, which because of our position necessitated a parallel entry. "Ah, your favorite!" Stuart said.

    "I'm on it," I grunted, not taking my eyes off the instruments. I had a few moments to set up for the hold, and it was no problem. While making our racetrack pattern we heard the other plane report its progress on the approach, and soon it was our turn. Approach cleared us to shoot the approach, and I began our descent as we approached the marker outbound. We stabilized the altitude while on the back course, and then I began our procedure turn. At the completion of the turn I put the plane into landing configuration and waited to reach the final approach fix.

    I've flown the Sullivan County ILS approach many times in real life and on the simulator. But there was great satisfaction in doing this for real. I happened to glance up at the windscreen just as we broke out of the clouds and I saw the runway ahead, fat as a goose. Again, not quite down to minimums, but close enough to keep me interested. I enjoyed keying the mic to tell Approach, "Warrior 41499 has the runway in sight. Cancel IFR."

    Over a stiff drink later that evening Stuart and I recounted how many great training moments I got to experience on this one flight. I consider the opportunity to get into IMC nearly priceless, and I thanked Stuart profusely for his willingness to instruct in these circumstances. It's one thing to be able to handle the IMC environment - it's another to coach someone who is doing it for the first time and making mistakes.

    Nerves of steel...