Ovation takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'

[Ed de C.]

Good evening folks - I thought I would share some interesting points about my flight today from Pontiac, Michigan (KPTK) to Philadelphia (KPNE).  

The weather brief was consistent for the prior few days:  A strong low pressure above Maine with dense isobars promising a powerful tailwind for the trip.  The specific forecast was about 75 knot tailwind at 15,000.  Surface winds were gusty at both departure and arrival.  The morning low temperature caught me a little by surprise (12 degrees F), as we had enjoyed milder temperatures so far this winter.  Fortunately, the night before I set the SwitchOn to give me 5 hours of engine and cabin pre-heat prior to my planned 9am departure from Pontiac.  By now, I've figured out the clothing needed to manage the in-hangar pre-flight and only open the hangar door when the plane is ready to drag outside.  (This is my second winter season, but much of last winter had the airplane in the shop for one thing or another.)

The arrival at the airport hangar was in bright (cold) sunshine with scattered clouds at 4,000 MSL.  Gusty winds were nearly down the east/west runway.  I packed the plane with gear I might need in Philadelphia (TKS hand sprayer, 100 foot extension cord for engine heater, tools, etc.) and pulled the plane out with my Sidewinder tug.  Or tried to.  There was a light coating of snow on the pavement outside the hangar, maybe half an inch, but a dry area for about 10 feet outside the door before the snow layer started.  As I pull the plane out, I wait for wing to clear the door then turn the tug to the left to angle towards the taxiway.  I got the plane partially out, cleared the wing and started the turn.  When the nose wheel hit the snow, I noticed the sidewinder having trouble getting purchase on the snowy nose tire.  Then, when the mains hit the snow, enough resistance built up that the sidewinder simply slipped on the nosewheel.  Luckily, the tail was clear of the door so that it could be closed.  The plane was at a 45-degree angle, so some prop blast would be towards the door, but seemed (and turned out to be) fine.  If snow had piled up against the door, obviously I'd be doing some snow shoveling while guessing how the tires would track so that I'd only need to clear the track for the tires.  I have a shovel in the hangar and all this dawned on me as I looked at the airplane sitting there at the 45-degree angle.  The pavement slopes downward away from the hangar door, so gravity was working for me.  Putting the plane back in, up the slope, in snow, may not be possible with the Sidewinder.  I remember pulling a club Mooney a long time ago into a hangar with a winch at the back of the hangar.  I need to figure this out.

The runup, clearance, and take off were normal, albeit "sporty".  Once the power was in, I glanced at the airspeed tape on the G1000 and saw 45 knots really quick.  Cold and headwind.  This plane has the 310hp STC.  I push the go-around button before takeoff to set the flight director and prepare for AP engagement at 400 feet AGL.  Tower was a little slow to pass me off to Detroit Departure, so I was able to engage AP at 400 feet and was about to select heading when Tower passed me over to Departure.  As I was reaching to select Com 2, there was a massive jolt, as if the Fist of God had hammered the top of the airplane.  My head (more accurately my Bose headset) hit the ceiling and I was momentarily stunned.  Not physiologically, but mentally.  You've experienced it:  an event that shocks your system and takes a couple of beats for your brain to check in with body systems to assess damage.  The Bose crackled a bit, seemingly unhappy with the ceiling impact, but I felt no pain.  By the time I wondered about the airplane (a second or two later), my brain registered that the engine had not missed a beat and nothing abnormal was felt in the controls.  Before I could think to worry about the structure, the plane was saying "don't worry about me".  A few seconds later, I got it together and switched to Departure.  Interestingly, other than that jolt, the rest of the climb through 4,000 MSL was fairly mild bumps up to the glass smooth air above the scattered layer.  As I climbed, I looked at the seatbelt to cinch it tighter but realized that with the 3-point design, there's not a great way to get much more vertical restraint.  Perhaps I can get the lap belt portion tighter.

The rest of the climb out to the southeast was uneventful, other than the promising ground speeds that were developing.  I filed for 15,000 to get the optimum tailwinds (about 75 knots according to Foreflight) but ATC held me at 9,000 until I cleared Detroit's airspace.  Tailwinds were 24 knots at 9,000 feet, but Foreflight said the tailwinds jumped fast a little higher.  Sure enough, as I continued the climb tailwinds exploded.  By the time I got to 15,000, which happened at about 500 fpm at 120 knots indicated (FLC set to 120) I saw a max of 87 knots of tailwind.  Ground speed maxed out at 254 knots.  For much of the flight, there was an undercast broken layer and snow showed on the Nexrad display on the MFD.  The descent started around Harrisburg and as I headed down at 1,000 fpm the top of the green arc came up and I pegged it there by varying the descent rate.  Ground Speed hit 270 knots.  The undercast disappeared toward Philadelphia, causing me to forget that there was probably a thermal layer nonetheless where turbulence would start.  That happened as I descended through 7,000 feet, and it was pretty rough.  ATC wanted expedited descent which I translated to 1200 fpm and speed builds quick into the yellow band.  Speed brakes will quickly shave off 10 - 15 knots at a given power and descent rate, and the rest is done with power reductions.  Turbulence seemed to exacerbate the tendency to creep into the yellow arc and once I saw the over-speed warning that seems to be triggered about halfway into the yellow arc.  Speedbrakes and power management need to be jumped on early.  I noticed the left speedbrake would not retract fully (about 1 inch proud of the wing surface) so it would seem some lube is needed.  When I looked after landing, it was fully retracted.

The arrival into Philadelphia (KPNE) was looking good with one of two crossing runways pretty well lined up with the gusty winds.  The Tower cleared me to land from outside of the downwind on the visual approach.  Then on the frequency, "Tower, this is Vision Jet XXX, we seem to have had a blowout or something."  Tower asked if they could clear the runway and they couldn't.  I knew what was coming and it wasn't going to be fun.  I was rerouted to the crossing runway and I offered that I'd give it a go.  It was a 60-degree crosswind at 17 knots, gusting higher.  One of those where your base to final turn overshoots final by a lot.  The landing was miserable, the crab and kick out worked OK, but gusts resulted in me plopping it down on the mains, in one of those sinking sensations where the runway is further away from your wheels than you thought when the wing stops flying.  The LHS system didn't help much because the gusts interfered with how my mind processed the varying aural heights.  The wide runway helped keep the plane from being blown off the downwind side.  

So, the tailwinds were wonderful, the fastest numbers I've even seen in a plane I've flown.  But, there's likely going to be a price to pay at either end of the journey.

Ed

[Brandt]

Great recap

[Yetti]

In gusty cross winds the I have found that one wheel landings (upwind) work pretty well.   My theory is that you are pointing the upwind wing directly at the wind and the wind can't pick it up in a gust.    You still have to do the slip a little to make it go straight down the runway.    The fuselage cross section is such that it does not pick up much crosswind.

Don't try one wheel landings on icy runways you really need the friction of the tire to hold it till you get the other tire planted.

[Alan Maurer]

REALLY FANTASTIC

[hubcap]

Nice!