Dumbest thing you have done and lived to tell about it

[TripleZ]

Today....... flew up to EGV (didn't make it to 6Y9 due to weather and time). Coming back and I pick-up flight following.

Me: MN Center, 9417K Near Yankee-5-5, 3500 ft, direct to FLD, request flight following.
MN Center: Err.... 9417K, we show you already squawking 3404, Please squawk XXXX
Me: ....$h@t...$h@t...$h@t. "Roger, MN Center, 9417K will squawk XXXX"

I had forgot to check the transponder code leaving FLD. Last pilot never set it back to 1200. I turned it ON from the checklist........ but never checked the code. Im just glad it wasn't on some other number...........

 

[GMascelli]

Wx turning crappy, diverted to KGED instead of our planned KCGE breakfast run. Plenty of traffic in the area along with a state police helicopter all landing at GED. I report position/intentions and continue in. Now 5 miles out I advise number two to land behind a cessna short final and try to locate him while looking for a mooney crossing over the field 500 above my altitude. I notice the runway doesn't look right, no striping and numbers...hmmmmm...that would be the taxiway. Announce going around, confirm visual on the mooney and circle left to re-enter the left downwind for runway one zero. I make a smooth landing and taxi in for breakfast.

Flying is full of firsts.....that was a first time for me, sure felt dumb.

 

[ajstoner21]

Today....... flew up to EGV (didn't make it to 6Y9 due to weather and time). Coming back and I pick-up flight following.

Me: MN Center, 9417K Near Yankee-5-5, 3500 ft, direct to FLD, request flight following.
MN Center: Err.... 9417K, we show you already squawking 3404, Please squawk XXXX
Me: ....$h@t...$h@t...$h@t. "Roger, MN Center, 9417K will squawk XXXX"

I had forgot to check the transponder code leaving FLD. Last pilot never set it back to 1200. I turned it ON from the checklist........ but never checked the code. Im just glad it wasn't on some other number...........

I've done that before. I noticed it very quickly after take off, but i felt embarassed that I missed it.

 

[DutchessFlier]

And if you haven't done that at least once, you're not flying enough!

Been there-done that, especially when I was training on a rental 172 and the chocks were either on the nosewheel or copilot side of the plane.

Now, on my tiedown, they only go on the pilot side mains so I can see them...however, line guys put them anywhere when we go to a destination airport....gotta look twice!

...and the many stories of folks who try to depart or actually manage to depart dragging the tail tiedown with them

 

[denverpilot]

I try to stick to the ol' "Chocks in, brakes off. Brakes on, chocks out." rule of thumb.

If I reach in and set the brakes, I walk around and pull all the chocks before doing anything else. (And remove the tow bar.)

Once a chock is set, I reach in and release the brakes.

Haven't run over a chock yet... (knock on wood)...

NEVER brakes on, tow bar on. Or brakes and chocks together unless there's something wild going on.

Brakes on, chocks out means we're about to go aviating or we just finished and we haven't put the chocks in yet.

 

[airguy]

And this is why I now walk once around the airplane, one last good visual check, from about twenty feet away, before boarding. Been there, done that!

Land with a flat tire about once, and you'll add checking for proper inflation on the tires to your walkaround list. Kinda hard to miss the chocks if you're inspecting for proper tire inflation. I usually put that at the very front of the preflight, as I'm walking up to the airplane from the front and can see all three tires from a distance. It's a little easier to spot a low one for me that way.

 

[Skylane81E]

Been there-done that, especially when I was training on a rental 172 and the chocks were either on the nosewheel or copilot side of the plane.

Now, on my tiedown, they only go on the pilot side mains so I can see them...however, line guys put them anywhere when we go to a destination airport....gotta look twice!

...and the many stories of folks who try to depart or actually manage to depart dragging the tail tiedown with them

You just need a bigger engine bud, I just climb outta cholks

Actually we have some nice short ones made from sawn PVC pipe that we use often on our Navajo, as setting the brake then pulling cholks is a bit of an ordeal. These are big enough to hold the plane on the slight grade of our ramp and small enough that when placed on the nosewheel you can hardly tell you ran them over.

 

[Skylane81E]

Land with a flat tire about once, and you'll add checking for proper inflation on the tires to your walkaround list. Kinda hard to miss the chocks if you're inspecting for proper tire inflation. I usually put that at the very front of the preflight, as I'm walking up to the airplane from the front and can see all three tires from a distance. It's a little easier to spot a low one for me that way.

Blow one on landing, that's fun too

 

[denverpilot]

Blow one on landing, that's fun too

Okay, where's Kent?

That marching band and school stuff is keeping him way too busy.

 

[COFlyBoy]

I flew VFR into IMC on the first flight after getting my PPL.
I was going from Denver to Minden, NE and there was fog around the CO-NE border. I was told about it in the briefing and I expected it to burn off quickly, because fog always burns of quickly in Colorado.
Once I got in the air I could easily see the fog bank so I kept an eye on it with the intention of landing nearer my final destination and proceed later in the day.
Well, the edge of fog is hard to descern in the air. I almost wet my pants when the ground disappeared, did a level 180 using the AI and managed to live through it.

 

[Lance F]

I'm sure I'm not the only one here who can say that their first flight after their first VMC into IMC encounter was their first instrument rating lesson. (Awkward sentence. Sorry. Hope it makes sense. )

 

[gprellwitz]

I'm sure I'm not the only one here who can say that their first flight after their first VMC into IMC encounter was their first instrument rating lesson. (Awkward sentence. Sorry. Hope it makes sense. )

My first flight VMC into IMC was during primary training on an instrument flight plan at night, during which we also picked up trace ice. However, I did have a subsequent VMC into IMC at night as a non-instrument rated pilot. I was on flight following in a descent to get below some clouds I could see ahead of me, but didn't start early enough or descend quickly enough and found myself in them. Luckily, I was on autopilot at the time, so it was a non-event. I knew enough to not make any drastic changes. The extent of my changes was to turn off the strobes to eliminate the distracting flashes.

 

[gprellwitz]

XM radio is great on long trips!

XM Jazz is all I listen to. Other than flight following......

yeah, except with me it's the Margaritaville channel. 5 hours of flight, Chicago to Connecticut alone in the plane, you'd better believe I was listening to music! I thought about podcasts, but figured that they would be harder to discern from ATC calls, and less forgiving of breaks when I was talking to ATC.

 

[azure]

I'm sure I'm not the only one here who can say that their first flight after their first VMC into IMC encounter was their first instrument rating lesson. (Awkward sentence. Sorry. Hope it makes sense. )

I might have the record here for the LONGEST time after my first (and only) VMC into IMC encounter to first instrument lesson -- over 4 years. Not for lack of motivation either... it was more the difficulty of getting $$$, airplane, and CFII in the same place at the same time.

And if things keep going the way they are, I might win the POA record for the most time from first instrument lesson to instrument rating... or the most instrument training hours... or something. (I'm probably second place in total logged hours at the time of my PPL checkride.)

 

[gprellwitz]

What I find interesting is the number of people who have had VFR into IMC encounters but lived to tell about it. Apparently the statistics don't have all the data they need. I'm not suggesting that they aren't potentially fatal, but perhaps the fatality rate is stated higher then actuality. There can be mitigating circumstances.

 

[Everskyward]

What I find interesting is the number of people who have had VFR into IMC encounters but lived to tell about it. Apparently the statistics don't have all the data they need. I'm not suggesting that they aren't potentially fatal, but perhaps the fatality rate is stated higher then actuality. There can be mitigating circumstances.

What have you heard the fatality rate is? I don't see how they can compile statistics like that unless everyone confesses.

 

[azure]

What I find interesting is the number of people who have had VFR into IMC encounters but lived to tell about it. Apparently the statistics don't have all the data they need. I'm not suggesting that they aren't potentially fatal, but perhaps the fatality rate is stated higher then actuality. There can be mitigating circumstances.

Careful, I think that borders on sacrilege.

In my case there was an autopilot, which flaky though it was, may well have saved my bacon.

But still, I wonder what VFR pilots do who are based at "black hole" or oceanside airports. No night flying? Or do they get the training they need to safely fly on the instruments when they need to (in legal VMC of course)? Those same skills will keep you alive if you fly into a cloud, and I don't think VFR pilots like that are unusual.

IMO panic is your worst enemy in a VFR into IMC situation, and clips like "90 seconds to live" may well be self-fulfilling prophecies.

 

[denverpilot]

I might win the POA record for the most time from first instrument lesson to instrument rating... or the most instrument training hours... or something. (I'm probably second place in total logged hours at the time of my PPL checkride.)

I'm at 19 years, where are you?

First Instrument lesson was in 1992 I think, without looking at my logbook.

Three passes on the written later, I'm still not getting it done.

I'm about to pitch the boss about this and try to finish it in an accelerated fashion if he can afford the time off.

Meanwhile I just sent an e-mail off today applying for a whole new part-time volunteer "job" that'll eat a bunch of time but be highly fulfilling if the work that needs to be done gets accomplished in the timeframe given.

It also just happens to be great stuff for the resume' of geek talents that keeps food on that table and an airplane key in my pocket. Maybe it can be leveraged into paid work someday, one never knows.

But it's going to be a bear to juggle it with the IR unless the IR is accomplished in an accelerated fashion. I'm cool with that.

So, how many years?

I'm sure my priorities would switch heavily if we didn't have 300 days of sunshine a year, here. Everyone I know who's a pilot who ever lived in the Pacific Northwest or the Midwest has this stuff done immediately or they can't go flying!

 

[azure]

I'm at 19 years, where are you?

Okay so all I have to do is wait til you pass your checkride, and then wait another 16 years, and I'll get the prize.

First Instrument lesson was in 1992 I think, without looking at my logbook.

Three passes on the written later, I'm still not getting it done.

I'm still on pass one, and determined to get it done before this one expires (next July). Of course, I was determined to get it done before 6Y9 too.

Work has a lot to do with it for me too... I'm full time teaching faculty, so I've got a heavier teaching load than all but one other person in the department. It amounts to 12-15 hour days 6 days a week. Very hard to juggle that along with CFII's schedule plus Michigan weather. The only blessing is that the contact hours are only a fraction of that since one of the courses I teach is online, and I can do much of my work from home. But even without the work, during the summer it was too hot to fly for over a month there, and the plane was down for mx a lot too.

I'm sure my priorities would switch heavily if we didn't have 300 days of sunshine a year, here. Everyone I know who's a pilot who ever lived in the Pacific Northwest or the Midwest has this stuff done immediately or they can't go flying!

I definitely have the motivation there so I probably won't ever be in a position to challenge your years-in-study.

 

[Amelia]

SO many dumb stunts I have undeservedly survived. Must still have work to do on this earth, somehow. The most recently embarrassing one was one rainy morning, I shut down in front of fancy FBO somewhere in upstate SC to pick up my elderly Angel Flight passenger. Met her, completed her paperwork to be faxed back to Angel Flight, helped her hobble out to the Mooney, wondering where the linemen might have vanished to. Oh, well. I explained that there was only one way to do this, that she was going to have to scoot herself up the wing, let me step over her, and get in first, then she'd have to slide into the right seat. Rain-- and her considerable girth-- notwithstanding, she managed. She was VERY nervous, admitting this was the smallest airplane she'd ever seen, much less flown in. Got Information. Clearance received and read back. Ready to taxi. OK--brake off. More power? More? Tower, right overhead, comes on and with a kind chuckle, suggests I remove the chocks. Oh. Dear. (OK, that's not what I was thinking, but my passenger might have been shocked, no point in making things worse. It's still raining, now harder. Linemen? Nowhere to be seen. No answer on the unicom freq. Nothing for it but to ask my not-at-all-reassured passenger to please open that door, slide out, let me out, and I'd, um, be right back. Finally, considerably damper, we were airborne. My passenger's eyes were tightly shut-- in fervent prayer? We broke out on top of that low stratus deck into sunshine, and I pointed out the lovely Smoky Mountains poking through the clouds. She looked briefly to the right, nodded, and closed her eyes again, and didn't open them again, despite my light-hearted banter, until we shot a perfectly acceptable ILS to 300 feet at Atlanta. Don't know if she was a repeat customer or not, but I bet she didn't request another ride with the nutty grandma in that wee little airplane with only one door.

 

[gprellwitz]

SO many dumb stunts I have undeservedly survived. Must still have work to do on this earth, somehow. The most recently embarrassing one was one rainy morning, I shut down in front of fancy FBO somewhere in upstate SC to pick up my elderly Angel Flight passenger. Met her, completed her paperwork to be faxed back to Angel Flight, helped her hobble out to the Mooney, wondering where the linemen might have vanished to. Oh, well. I explained that there was only one way to do this, that she was going to have to scoot herself up the wing, let me step over her, and get in first, then she'd have to slide into the right seat. Rain-- and her considerable girth-- notwithstanding, she managed. She was VERY nervous, admitting this was the smallest airplane she'd ever seen, much less flown in. Got Information. Clearance received and read back. Ready to taxi. OK--brake off. More power? More? Tower, right overhead, comes on and with a kind chuckle, suggests I remove the chocks. Oh. Dear. (OK, that's not what I was thinking, but my passenger might have been shocked, no point in making things worse. It's still raining, now harder. Linemen? Nowhere to be seen. No answer on the unicom freq. Nothing for it but to ask my not-at-all-reassured passenger to please open that door, slide out, let me out, and I'd, um, be right back. Finally, considerably damper, we were airborne. My passenger's eyes were tightly shut-- in fervent prayer? We broke out on top of that low stratus deck into sunshine, and I pointed out the lovely Smoky Mountains poking through the clouds. She looked briefly to the right, nodded, and closed her eyes again, and didn't open them again, despite my light-hearted banter, until we shot a perfectly acceptable ILS to 300 feet at Atlanta. Don't know if she was a repeat customer or not, but I bet she didn't request another ride with the nutty grandma in that wee little airplane with only one door.

Amelia, great story! It does, however, point out one of the advantages of a 182 for Angel Flights! High wings in the rain with 2 doors!


It's wonderful to have you active here on PoA again!

 

[Ghery]

And if things keep going the way they are, I might win the POA record for the most time from first instrument lesson to instrument rating... or the most instrument training hours... or something. (I'm probably second place in total logged hours at the time of my PPL checkride.)

I'm at 19 years, where are you?

First Instrument lesson was in 1992 I think, without looking at my logbook.

I was all set to chime in at 9 years and 2 months, but you've got me beat. Go get it done!

 

[kimberlyanne546]

Amelia, great story! It does, however, point out one of the advantages of a 182 for Angel Flights! High wings in the rain with 2 doors!


It's wonderful to have you active here on PoA again!

She was here before? I love her and have to meet her. Too bad I'm in California.

 

[gprellwitz]

She was here before? I love her and have to meet her. Too bad I'm in California.

She joined in Feb of 2010, but has spent most of her time on the Red Board, or at least that's where I see her.

 

[j1b3h0]

I learned to fly when I was a teenager, by a friend who was a little older teenager - in has dad's Citabria. I was his first student (he was my first instructor). There was a remarkable dearth of adult supervision. Heck, we were doing aerobatics before I ever soloed. The litany of outrageously stupid things I got away with makes me just shake my head. Years later, when I started instructing, I kept a nary eye out for anyone who reminded me of me.

I'm presently no teenager, and I'm a very experienced pilot; which is a high-toned way of saying that, aeronautically speaking, I have had EVERY FINGER in a light socket at one time or another. I supect most experienced pilots (though maybe not as foolhardy as me) have had ample opportunity to scare the dickens out of themselves. Can't speak for anyone else, but I'm a formerly bold old pilot.

After I instructed for years, my first real pilot job was for a 135 air-taxi freight job in northern California. Started in Piper singles then advanced to the Aztec. Literally the first time I soloed a twin was doing a run from Oakland to South Lake Tahoe to Truckee to Reno with a bunch of mail and film bags. I'd spend the day in Reno, then fly home. It was a good itinerary for a new multi-eng pilot to get his game, as the naturally aspirated Piper's single engine ceiling was about 6000ft, so on my trip I was constantly thinking about where I would point the airplane should an engine quit. Did it every day, so, soon I got pretty comfortable.

One dark and stormy evening, when a major winter storm was sweeping across the Sierras, I was not feeling warm and fuzzy about the flight home, night over mountains, bad weather. The folks a 1-800 VFR not confirmed my anxiety. I was almost resigned to just stay the night, when a guy in a 500 Commander taxiied up. Asked him which way he came in and confessed my concerns about the flight out. He said it was smooth and ice-free from California, and that's all the confirmation I needed, so off I went. Oxygen bottle strapped in the front seat. Took two attempts to get to altitude - get in some bad downdrafts, but then returned to where the lift was good, got a block altitude from center, and first thing you know I was over Truckee at 16,000ft. 14 inches of manifold pressure, oxygen tube in my mouth (We just tore that silly little Scott mask from the tube) quite pleased that the Janitrol heater was working well. No structural ice, good. The digital King DME was starting to count down from Sacramento...what's this? Goundspeed: 35kts. I started pondering whether I had enough fuel for Oakland, when...

Both engines quit! I quickly turned on the boost pumps, adjusted the mixtures, switched fuel tanks and applied both alternate airs. The situation was serious, but I had a block altitude and within 20 seconds or so, I got the engines running again. But, for the life of me I couldn't figure out why they quit.

So I undid all those things. 5 minutes later, the right engine quit. What I learned, from this succession of failures and the remedys was the alternate air (or lack of it) was what making the motors stop. I never flew in a cloud again without those darn levers full on. More later...

 

[dell30rb]

Bu alternate air do you mean carb heat.. Or is there another intake on those in case the main intake gets iced up?

 

[p1l0t]

Bu alternate air do you mean carb heat.. Or is there another intake on those in case the main intake gets iced up?

Carb heat is your alternate air as your probably well aware on a carburated aircraft. Since fuel-injected airplanes have no carbs its just called alternate air.

Now my story from the other day. I was flying with a student who was way too high and fast and so I told him to go-around. He retracted all the flaps at once and did not touch the throttle... eeeee... Luckily we were high and fast and I reached over and pushed the throttle in while bringing the nose up from the ensuing dive. Maybe its my failure as a teacher although I have gone over power-off stall recoveries and go-around procedures (which I told him are almost identical) but it just never seemed to sink in. So sink in we did. We recovered with at least 100ft to spare but I was just like why would you do that? I debriefed him about how flaps increase lift and taking them out reduces it... [which I have told him before and he went through ground school too] Maybe he just meant to take out one notch initially and didn't think he would need throttle because he was already high and fast.. IDK He scared himself enough that he didn't come back though, which normally I would be disappointed but this guy just didn't seem to want or care to learn anything from me. He wouldn't taxi on the line, so he never got the sight picture right to takeoff and land on the centerline, and since he could land in calm wind on the centerline it was a nightmare to be in a crosswind situation with him... I did my best to explain to him why we practice different things and the corelations but in-one-ear, out-the-other.


<---<^>--->

 

[Ted]

Good story, Doug. Looking forward to more info on the alternate air/engine failure. In my 800 Aztec hours, I've never had that happen.

The highest I've had my F-350 of the skies is 14,000 ft, and that's solo in the winter. It'll do fine there, but I wouldn't want to try going much higher, and typically look at 11,000 and under as my useful service altitude with a load.

 

[zaitcev]

But still, I wonder what VFR pilots do who are based at "black hole" or oceanside airports. No night flying?

There was that Mooney guy who departed Watsonville this June and tried to outclimb the marine layer, stalled out and crashed. It definitely was the case of being too afraid of clouds. No night flying is probably the right rule though.

P.S. The dumbest thing I ever did was to use my 1st flight after the checkride to expand my crosswind envelope. I was able to fight airplane almost to the runway, but not keep the centerline as the speed decayed. It ended with go-arounds from flaring altitude, which wasn't too bad by itself, since I knew enough to stay in ground effect. The dumb part was selecting an airpark for practicing and I think I came close to crashing into residences that were adjacent to the runway and taxiway over which the wind blew me. I think I never came this close to pranging the airplane ever since, although I am a big enthusiast of expanding the envelope and challenging myself. These days I mostly do it by flying into unfamiliar airports though.

 

[Unregistered]

I used to live next to a nice young couple. He was as an avid fisherman as I was and we would go on fishing trips often. She loved gardening and every spring, she would till and plant an acre worth of carrots, tomatoes, greens, peas, etc. Despite living in a very suburban area, wild animals would raid her garden almost every night.

Now, they were both pacifists, in the sense that whatever solution was needed to remedy the situation, no animal could be killed in the process. No use of poison, no shooting with a bb gun. Relocation of the guilty party was going the order of the day. So every spring, I would help them relocate squirrels, rabbits, opossums, etc. that we would catch in “live traps”. This worked fairly well as long as we relocated these animals a dozen or so miles away.

This worked fine until we came across this one raccoon with half an ear. He was so bold, he would sit upright on his butt and eat a tomato while the wife would be clanging pots and pans together with the greatest of abandon. Her desperate actions seem to entertain him. You could almost see him smirk. While he wasn’t the smartest creature living in the shrubs, he was definitely stubborn. His rotundness alone should have stopped him from getting caught into the trap. Yet somehow, he managed to get caught and relocated at least four times.
It just so happen that “Notorious B.I.G” (after having caught him so many times, they named him) was caught hours before I was going to on a fishing trip with the husband. The wife came out of the house with the brilliant idea of taking B.I.G with us and release him in “the real nature”. I reluctantly agreed.

B.I.G, still in the cage, seemed undisturbed by getting loaded in back seat of the old 182. Maybe he was getting accustom to being caught and relocated. Or maybe, he was looking forward to being reunited with Bambi and Thumper just like the wife had promised him. I told my friend to put a blanket over the cage to keep the raccoon calm. And up we went.
About an hour into the flight, we hit some mild turbulence. As a precaution, my friend put his hand on the blanketed trap. About 10 minutes later, I hear “He is out”. Mind you, he didn’t scream it or anything like that. It was said in a matter-of-fact and detached way, as if you were to say “ It’s raining”. While my brain was trying to decide if I had heard what I thought I had heard, I turned around. The unmistakable moving bulge under the blanket confirmed my worst fear. Damn coon was out of the cage. My gaze returned to the instrument panel. I heard all kinds of commotions on my right. I turned my head again, and the raccoon was stuck between the door and back of the passenger seat. In no uncertain terms, I screamed at my friend to open the door and kick the damn coon out. Door latch undone, I see my friend struggling to get the door open. I looked back once again. The door was ajar, opened maybe 10” wide. Meanwhile, BIG was hanging for dear life, the two front paws firmly planted in the door’s panel. I looked back at the instrument, my brain screaming “fly the plane, fly the plane !”. The door closed, but BIG was still in the plane. Fortunately, BIG ran towards the back of the plane. I told my friend to grab the blanket and raise like a curtain to separate the two front seats from the rest of the cabin. In the meantime, I hit NRST on my GPS. We descended and landed quickly at this little airport. As soon as we were off the active, we both jumped out. It took some work to dislodge BIG . But eventually his rotundness de-boarded. As we watched him waddle into the sunset, I swear he turned back and gave us a parting smirk.

We took off again. Within 15 minutes, the unmistakable musty scent of urine penetrated the cabin. My friend, to this day, claims it came from BIG… I am still not convinced.

unregistered to protect the guilty...

 

[j1b3h0]

I learned to fly when I was a teenager, by a friend who was a little older teenager - in has dad's Citabria. I was his first student (he was my first instructor). There was a remarkable dearth of adult supervision. Heck, we were doing aerobatics before I ever soloed. The litany of outrageously stupid things I got away with makes me just shake my head. Years later, when I started instructing, I kept a nary eye out for anyone who reminded me of me.

I'm presently no teenager, and I'm a very experienced pilot; which is a high-toned way of saying that, aeronautically speaking, I have had EVERY FINGER in a light socket at one time or another. I supect most experienced pilots (though maybe not as foolhardy as me) have had ample opportunity to scare the dickens out of themselves. Can't speak for anyone else, but I'm a formerly bold old pilot.

After I instructed for years, my first real pilot job was for a 135 air-taxi freight job in northern California. Started in Piper singles then advanced to the Aztec. Literally the first time I soloed a twin was doing a run from Oakland to South Lake Tahoe to Truckee to Reno with a bunch of mail and film bags. I'd spend the day in Reno, then fly home. It was a good itinerary for a new multi-eng pilot to get his game, as the naturally aspirated Piper's single engine ceiling was about 6000ft, so on my trip I was constantly thinking about where I would point the airplane should an engine quit. Did it every day, so, soon I got pretty comfortable.

One dark and stormy evening, when a major winter storm was sweeping across the Sierras, I was not feeling warm and fuzzy about the flight home, night over mountains, bad weather. The folks a 1-800 VFR not confirmed my anxiety. I was almost resigned to just stay the night, when a guy in a 500 Commander taxiied up. Asked him which way he came in and confessed my concerns about the flight out. He said it was smooth and ice-free from California, and that's all the confirmation I needed, so off I went. Oxygen bottle strapped in the front seat. Took two attempts to get to altitude - get in some bad downdrafts, but then returned to where the lift was good, got a block altitude from center, and first thing you know I was over Truckee at 16,000ft. 14 inches of manifold pressure, oxygen tube in my mouth (We just tore that silly little Scott mask from the tube) quite pleased that the Janitrol heater was working well. No structural ice, good. The digital King DME was starting to count down from Sacramento...what's this? Goundspeed: 35kts. I started pondering whether I had enough fuel for Oakland, when...

Both engines quit! I quickly turned on the boost pumps, adjusted the mixtures, switched fuel tanks and applied both alternate airs. The situation was serious, but I had a block altitude and within 20 seconds or so, I got the engines running again. But, for the life of me I couldn't figure out why they quit.

So I undid all those things. 5 minutes later, the right engine quit. What I learned, from this succession of failures and the remedys was the alternate air (or lack of it) was what making the motors stop. I never flew in a cloud again without those darn levers full on. More later...

If my merory serves, the fuel injected engines in the Aztec received intake air from a scoop near the front of the cowling that ducts ram air through a filter and then to the engine. Lore had it (when I say lore, it was because there was not a word of explanation of it during my training in the airplane) that when/if the the cowling scoop somehow were to become blocked - from ice, or what have you, a flap, normally closed by spring pressure would open, (because the vacuum of the running engine overcame the spring) allowing air from inside the cowling ala carb heat. In other words, the rumor in the street was that it's completley automatic, same as the Navajo.

When the engines quit, I was IMC, 16,000ft, full throttle and the OAT was -30C. If a Navajo was cruising at 16000ft, it's 310hp engines would be developing whatever percent power you set - the miracle of turbocharging, and making so much power, it consumed alot of air, which means if the intake gets blocked for any reason, the is a LARGE pressure drop in the (intake) duct, and the alternate air door spring is easily overcome. Aztec engines, conversely, are anemic, gasping for what little air there is at 16000ft. Hence, (I'm guessing) not enough pressure drop to overcome the door spring.

The nice Piper engineers probably realized the issue and gave Aztec pilots Alternate Air levers. Just a suggestion, but I never entered a cloud again with them off.

 

[Jaybird180]

I used to live next to a nice young couple. He was as an avid fisherman as I was and we would go on fishing trips often. She loved gardening and every spring, she would till and plant an acre worth of carrots, tomatoes, greens, peas, etc. Despite living in a very suburban area, wild animals would raid her garden almost every night.

Now, they were both pacifists, in the sense that whatever solution was needed to remedy the situation, no animal could be killed in the process. No use of poison, no shooting with a bb gun. Relocation of the guilty party was going the order of the day. So every spring, I would help them relocate squirrels, rabbits, opossums, etc. that we would catch in “live traps”. This worked fairly well as long as we relocated these animals a dozen or so miles away.

This worked fine until we came across this one raccoon with half an ear. He was so bold, he would sit upright on his butt and eat a tomato while the wife would be clanging pots and pans together with the greatest of abandon. Her desperate actions seem to entertain him. You could almost see him smirk. While he wasn’t the smartest creature living in the shrubs, he was definitely stubborn. His rotundness alone should have stopped him from getting caught into the trap. Yet somehow, he managed to get caught and relocated at least four times.
It just so happen that “Notorious B.I.G” (after having caught him so many times, they named him) was caught hours before I was going to on a fishing trip with the husband. The wife came out of the house with the brilliant idea of taking B.I.G with us and release him in “the real nature”. I reluctantly agreed.

B.I.G, still in the cage, seemed undisturbed by getting loaded in back seat of the old 182. Maybe he was getting accustom to being caught and relocated. Or maybe, he was looking forward to being reunited with Bambi and Thumper just like the wife had promised him. I told my friend to put a blanket over the cage to keep the raccoon calm. And up we went.
About an hour into the flight, we hit some mild turbulence. As a precaution, my friend put his hand on the blanketed trap. About 10 minutes later, I hear “He is out”. Mind you, he didn’t scream it or anything like that. It was said
in a matter-of-fact and detached way, as if you were to say “ It’s raining”. While my brain was trying to decide if I had heard what I thought I had heard, I turned around. The unmistakable moving bulge under the blanket confirmed my worst fear. Damn coon was out of the cage. My gaze returned to the instrument panel. I heard all kinds of commotions on my right. I turned my head again, and the raccoon was stuck between the door and back of the passenger seat. In no uncertain terms, I screamed at my friend to open the door and kick the damn coon out. Door latch undone, I see my friend struggling to get the door open. I looked back once again. The door was ajar, opened maybe 10” wide. Meanwhile, BIG was hanging for dear life, the two front paws firmly planted in the door’s panel. I looked back at the instrument, my brain screaming “fly the plane, fly the plane !”. The door closed, but BIG was still in the plane. Fortunately, BIG ran towards the back of the plane. I told my friend to grab the blanket and raise like a curtain to separate the two front seats from the rest of the cabin. In the meantime, I hit NRST on my GPS. We descended and landed quickly at this little airport. As soon as we were off the active, we both jumped out. It took some work to dislodge BIG . But eventually his rotundness de-boarded. As we watched him waddle into the sunset, I swear he turned back and gave us a parting smirk.

We took off again. Within 15 minutes, the unmistakable musty scent of urine penetrated the cabin. My friend, to this day, claims it came from BIG… I am still not convinced.

unregistered to protect the guilty...

Dont know about dumbest, but certainly funniest.

 

[Ted]

When the engines quit, I was IMC, 16,000ft, full throttle and the OAT was -30C. If a Navajo was cruising at 16000ft, it's 310hp engines would be developing whatever percent power you set - the miracle of turbocharging, and making so much power, it consumed alot of air, which means if the intake gets blocked for any reason, the is a LARGE pressure drop in the (intake) duct, and the alternate air door spring is easily overcome. Aztec engines, conversely, are anemic, gasping for what little air there is at 16000ft. Hence, (I'm guessing) not enough pressure drop to overcome the door spring.

The nice Piper engineers probably realized the issue and gave Aztec pilots Alternate Air levers. Just a suggestion, but I never entered a cloud again with them off.

Sounds right per my systems understanding. As I said, I've never flown at that altitude with the plane, and also never had a reason need to use the alternate air (other than to make sure it works).

Remember, the Piper engineers lived down the road from me a few miles. We don't have need to fly at 16,000 ft much around here in a piston bird, so they probably didn't think about it much.

 

[azure]

There was that Mooney guy who departed Watsonville this June and tried to outclimb the marine layer, stalled out and crashed. It definitely was the case of being too afraid of clouds. No night flying is probably the right rule though.

Absolutely, if you don't have the instrument skills to manage a takeoff/climb on the gauges. But I still feel that a better answer is to get the training needed to do it safely -- not necessarily the full 40 hours under the hood, but enough to develop an effective scan and to recognize when you need to be on instruments. There are too many situations where you are legal VFR but still need to be on the instruments, and I suspect most VFR pilots will eventually find themselves in one unless they have VERY conservative personal minimums.

 

[DavidWhite]

I just sneezed with my eyes open.

 

[Jaybird180]

I just sneezed with my eyes open.

Intentionally?

 

[DavidWhite]

Intentionally?

Indeed

 

[ajstoner21]

Did you physically hold them open? that is, with your hands?

 

[kyleb]

Indeed

Does Chuck Norris know about this?

 

[Adodero]

But I did once successfully take-off with the parking brake partially engaged while doing checkride practice with my CFI aboard. He reached over and released it somewhere during the pattern and that cured the sluggish takeoff roll for the next one. He didn't say a word, but I was pretty embarrassed.

I did this on my PPL checkride.

The funny part was, during the oral we were having a conversation about how he had a student a few days prior come in and forget to remove the chocks during preflight. The guy had started the engine up and didn't want to shut down, so he set the parking brake and got out of the airplane to remove them. The DPE told me to never trust the parking brake and that he had to fail him for doing that, mostly because those brakes are so unreliable and rarely work. So when I started rolling with the parking brake on and it didn't slow us down at all, he pointed it out and said "That's why you don't trust the parking brake".

I gather most other DPEs would have failed me for that, but he used it as a teaching moment and I guarantee it won't happen again