jrh
Well-Known Member
...The Cessna 140, piloted by a 2,036-hour commercial pilot, impacted terrain approximately 9 miles north of Marshall, Minnesota (KMML). Instrument meteorlogical conditions prevailed at the time of the accident. The nearest weather reporting station indicated ceilings overcast at 600 feet with 5 miles visibility in mist...
That was *almost* the opening lines of an NTSB report about me, folks. Don't make the same mistakes as me. VFR-into-IMC accidents can happen to anybody. I hope somebody can learn from this story.
Here's what happened:
I flew up to Brainerd, MN on Friday to visit my grandfather for the weekend and attend a friend's wedding on Sunday. After the wedding this afternoon, I checked the weather for flying home to Nebraska. Forecasts called for marginal VFR conditions (overcast at 1200-1500 with good visibility) in southern Minnesota, rain showers, IFR through Iowa and Nebraska, with conditions beginning to clear in the early morning hours.
My plan was to fly to Sioux Falls, SD (KFSD), stop at the 24 hour FBO, hang out for a few hours, then take off again in the early morning after the rain had cleared out.
As I flew south out of Brainerd, the ceilings very gradually began dropping. Since it was forecast, I wasn't too concerned. I scooted along in Class G at about 1500 AGL, following roads and railroad tracks and cross referencing my GPS to know precisely where I was in relation to towers.
Near Willmar, MN I started getting in to mist and lower visibility. I'd say it was about 6-8 miles vis.
Soon I needed to descend to 700-800 feet AGL to stay out of the clouds. I decided the conditions no longer looked acceptable and I would divert to Marshall, MN, about 35 miles away, to sort things out. Marshall has a nice 24 hour pilot lounge and I could spend the night there if I needed to. The closer I got to Marshall, the worse the weather looked. I wanted to listen to Marshall's automated weather, but it plays over a VOR frequency and I have no VOR receiver in my plane.
12 miles to go. 10.6 miles to go. My GPS ticked off the distance. The visibility kept getting worse.
By then I was following the main highway in to town from the north, as I didn't want to get disoriented over open fields. I was at 400-500 AGL and barely staying out of the clouds.
6 miles to go. I saw a wall of grey ahead of me. "Ok, screw this, this isn't going to work at all," I said to myself as I pulled the plane in to a tight 180.
Now, looking around, the weather looked dark on all sides, and the clouds weren't getting any higher. I needed to find the clearest direction and get on the ground ASAP. I tried calling Minneapolis Flight Watch as I slowly cruised over the highway along a stretch I knew had no towers. No response from Flight Watch. I must be too low, I figured.
I thought heading north might have slightly better weather, but I wasn't sure. It looked dark. The only weather reports within radio range played over VOR frequencies, which I wasn't equipped to hear.
I considered climbing to try to get on top, but I had no idea what the tops were, nor did I think I could maintain control of the plane if I went in to IMC--it's bare bones VFR. No attitude indicator, heading indicator, or turn coordinator. Short of landing in a field, I couldn't come up with any more options.
"@#$% this," I thought. "Now is the time for 121.5 if there ever is one."
"Pan, pan, pan, this is Cessna 12345, 10 miles north of Marshall, Minnesota, anyone on frequency?"
I instantly heard a reply of, "Cessna, go ahead."
"Yes sir, Cessna 345 is circling low to the ground north of Marshall, I'm out of radio contact with anyone, the ceilings and visibility are dropping, I need to get some weather reports for the area to know which way is clearest in order to get on the ground."
"Cessna, this is Air Canada 1234, hang on, we'll get you ATC's frequency."
A few seconds later they relayed Minneapolis Center's frequency and I got in contact with the ARTCC. Center relayed a half dozen METARS for the area, told me where they showed precip on radar, tracked me on radar, and stayed in contact with me until I had Montevideo, MN's airport in sight. By the time I landed at Montevideo the ceilings were 900 overcast and about 2-3 miles visibility.
Now my plane is tied down and I'm snug as can be here in the lounge, watching the rain fall outside. I'll be here until at least sunrise.
Moral of the story--don't get complacent, don't push a bad situation, don't think you're invincible, and don't be afraid to ask for help. I certainly could have made better decisions today (maybe not taken off to begin with?) but I thought I could handle it. Obviously not. It's amazing how I'd find it ridiculous for one of my customers to attempt such a trip, yet in the back of my mind I think about how much I've flown, how well I know the area, how many similar trips I've taken, etc., and justify making a "go" decision to myself, even when I have doubts in the back of my mind.
Many thanks to the pilots who monitor Guard, and the controllers who are able to help at a moment's notice. Fly safe out there!
That was *almost* the opening lines of an NTSB report about me, folks. Don't make the same mistakes as me. VFR-into-IMC accidents can happen to anybody. I hope somebody can learn from this story.
Here's what happened:
I flew up to Brainerd, MN on Friday to visit my grandfather for the weekend and attend a friend's wedding on Sunday. After the wedding this afternoon, I checked the weather for flying home to Nebraska. Forecasts called for marginal VFR conditions (overcast at 1200-1500 with good visibility) in southern Minnesota, rain showers, IFR through Iowa and Nebraska, with conditions beginning to clear in the early morning hours.
My plan was to fly to Sioux Falls, SD (KFSD), stop at the 24 hour FBO, hang out for a few hours, then take off again in the early morning after the rain had cleared out.
As I flew south out of Brainerd, the ceilings very gradually began dropping. Since it was forecast, I wasn't too concerned. I scooted along in Class G at about 1500 AGL, following roads and railroad tracks and cross referencing my GPS to know precisely where I was in relation to towers.
Near Willmar, MN I started getting in to mist and lower visibility. I'd say it was about 6-8 miles vis.
Soon I needed to descend to 700-800 feet AGL to stay out of the clouds. I decided the conditions no longer looked acceptable and I would divert to Marshall, MN, about 35 miles away, to sort things out. Marshall has a nice 24 hour pilot lounge and I could spend the night there if I needed to. The closer I got to Marshall, the worse the weather looked. I wanted to listen to Marshall's automated weather, but it plays over a VOR frequency and I have no VOR receiver in my plane.
12 miles to go. 10.6 miles to go. My GPS ticked off the distance. The visibility kept getting worse.
By then I was following the main highway in to town from the north, as I didn't want to get disoriented over open fields. I was at 400-500 AGL and barely staying out of the clouds.
6 miles to go. I saw a wall of grey ahead of me. "Ok, screw this, this isn't going to work at all," I said to myself as I pulled the plane in to a tight 180.
Now, looking around, the weather looked dark on all sides, and the clouds weren't getting any higher. I needed to find the clearest direction and get on the ground ASAP. I tried calling Minneapolis Flight Watch as I slowly cruised over the highway along a stretch I knew had no towers. No response from Flight Watch. I must be too low, I figured.
I thought heading north might have slightly better weather, but I wasn't sure. It looked dark. The only weather reports within radio range played over VOR frequencies, which I wasn't equipped to hear.
I considered climbing to try to get on top, but I had no idea what the tops were, nor did I think I could maintain control of the plane if I went in to IMC--it's bare bones VFR. No attitude indicator, heading indicator, or turn coordinator. Short of landing in a field, I couldn't come up with any more options.
"@#$% this," I thought. "Now is the time for 121.5 if there ever is one."
"Pan, pan, pan, this is Cessna 12345, 10 miles north of Marshall, Minnesota, anyone on frequency?"
I instantly heard a reply of, "Cessna, go ahead."
"Yes sir, Cessna 345 is circling low to the ground north of Marshall, I'm out of radio contact with anyone, the ceilings and visibility are dropping, I need to get some weather reports for the area to know which way is clearest in order to get on the ground."
"Cessna, this is Air Canada 1234, hang on, we'll get you ATC's frequency."
A few seconds later they relayed Minneapolis Center's frequency and I got in contact with the ARTCC. Center relayed a half dozen METARS for the area, told me where they showed precip on radar, tracked me on radar, and stayed in contact with me until I had Montevideo, MN's airport in sight. By the time I landed at Montevideo the ceilings were 900 overcast and about 2-3 miles visibility.
Now my plane is tied down and I'm snug as can be here in the lounge, watching the rain fall outside. I'll be here until at least sunrise.
Moral of the story--don't get complacent, don't push a bad situation, don't think you're invincible, and don't be afraid to ask for help. I certainly could have made better decisions today (maybe not taken off to begin with?) but I thought I could handle it. Obviously not. It's amazing how I'd find it ridiculous for one of my customers to attempt such a trip, yet in the back of my mind I think about how much I've flown, how well I know the area, how many similar trips I've taken, etc., and justify making a "go" decision to myself, even when I have doubts in the back of my mind.
Many thanks to the pilots who monitor Guard, and the controllers who are able to help at a moment's notice. Fly safe out there!
