U
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It's been a few years since this happened, but I'm still embarrassed that it ever did so I'm posting anon. I was in the early winter/late fall time frame. I also apologize for my poor writing style.
I was attempting to build the massive amount of PIC XC hours I needed in order to obtain my IR/CP so I decided to do it all in one flight and visit some family. At this point my mountain training was very recent and fresh in my mind. I rented a Piper Archer from the front range of Colorado and intended to fly to the coast of the Pacific Northwest.
The briefer for the day said there was some low mountain obscuration which cleared up to the north into Wyoming, but other than that my route of flight should be nearly clear with very gentle winds aloft... A perfect day to fly I thought.
Although I had numerous hours in pipers, this Archer was new to me which showed, as very early in the morning, It took an unnerving amount of tries to start the engine. I had full tanks of fuel and a conservatively close next waypoint in Rock Springs WY. I finally got going around 0600. I climbed to the West anticipating a cruise altitude of 12,500 with higher jaunts to get over mountain passes. - I note I did not bring oxygen, nor did I have a pulsox, but I felt confident at this altitude due to living and being acclimated in a mountainous area well above a mile-high. I approached the front range and saw the mountain obscuration which wasnt any higher than the low 10,000ft peaks that guarded some of the passes.
As the sun rose it played tricks on me while I proceeded West. While it was still mostly dark the clouds just out of reach of my eyesight seemed darker, like land... I kept telling myself the clouds were almost gone, this trickery went on for over 100nm. Well as the sun played tricks on me, it also had a devilish side effect. The clouds began rising.
I kept climbing as I knew getting into clouds in the mountains, in icing conditions would be a very, very deadly concoction. All the while I was climbing I kept telling myself the clouds would disappear very soon thinking I saw land. I kept climbing, mile after mile. Eventually I was quite glad to have been lightly loaded with just myself and fuel in very cold weather as I crossed the 17,000ft mark. At this altitude I started to panic, I knew I would soon be hypoxic and the mixture was nearly at idle cutoff. I started making contingency plans if the clouds rose too high, that I would get myself over an airport - which happened to be steamboat at my present course - and doing a spiraling instrument descent and land immediately anticipating much ice build-up. I soon cross 17,500 and began to worry even more about class A airspace. As I was crossing 17,800, barely making 25-50 ft/min and dodging plumes of clouds I decided to confess to Flight watch that I needed a way down. My voice was shaky but all they could offer me was that Rock Springs was indeed reporting severe clear... I just had to hold on until then. At this point there were some more clouds just above the layer I was at and I tried to scamper around them.
At this point I noticed a slight descent in the clouds as I was keeping an eye on my breathing and checking for signs of hypoxia. I descended steadily to 16,000 over the course of 20nm, then BOOM the clouds completely disappeared below me. I pushed the nose over HARD and the airspeed climbed into the yellow as I descended to about 8,500 since I had passed the western slope. I bit off the air like it was candy. For the first time in my life I yelled for joy that I was alive. I landed in Rock Springs, took a moment to calm down, fueled up, and took off into a perfect CAVU flying day.
The rest of my legs there and back were pristine and calm, a stark contrast to my first leg.
I learned much from this and am very fortunate to have the opportunity to have learned, and not been killed.
I will require a heavy margin of wx for any mountain flying. I will not be macho and will bring O2 incase I am forced to climb, and I will more readily call for help and divert to a better area.
And yes, apparently you can get a light Archer near the flight levels on a cold day.
I was attempting to build the massive amount of PIC XC hours I needed in order to obtain my IR/CP so I decided to do it all in one flight and visit some family. At this point my mountain training was very recent and fresh in my mind. I rented a Piper Archer from the front range of Colorado and intended to fly to the coast of the Pacific Northwest.
The briefer for the day said there was some low mountain obscuration which cleared up to the north into Wyoming, but other than that my route of flight should be nearly clear with very gentle winds aloft... A perfect day to fly I thought.
Although I had numerous hours in pipers, this Archer was new to me which showed, as very early in the morning, It took an unnerving amount of tries to start the engine. I had full tanks of fuel and a conservatively close next waypoint in Rock Springs WY. I finally got going around 0600. I climbed to the West anticipating a cruise altitude of 12,500 with higher jaunts to get over mountain passes. - I note I did not bring oxygen, nor did I have a pulsox, but I felt confident at this altitude due to living and being acclimated in a mountainous area well above a mile-high. I approached the front range and saw the mountain obscuration which wasnt any higher than the low 10,000ft peaks that guarded some of the passes.
As the sun rose it played tricks on me while I proceeded West. While it was still mostly dark the clouds just out of reach of my eyesight seemed darker, like land... I kept telling myself the clouds were almost gone, this trickery went on for over 100nm. Well as the sun played tricks on me, it also had a devilish side effect. The clouds began rising.
I kept climbing as I knew getting into clouds in the mountains, in icing conditions would be a very, very deadly concoction. All the while I was climbing I kept telling myself the clouds would disappear very soon thinking I saw land. I kept climbing, mile after mile. Eventually I was quite glad to have been lightly loaded with just myself and fuel in very cold weather as I crossed the 17,000ft mark. At this altitude I started to panic, I knew I would soon be hypoxic and the mixture was nearly at idle cutoff. I started making contingency plans if the clouds rose too high, that I would get myself over an airport - which happened to be steamboat at my present course - and doing a spiraling instrument descent and land immediately anticipating much ice build-up. I soon cross 17,500 and began to worry even more about class A airspace. As I was crossing 17,800, barely making 25-50 ft/min and dodging plumes of clouds I decided to confess to Flight watch that I needed a way down. My voice was shaky but all they could offer me was that Rock Springs was indeed reporting severe clear... I just had to hold on until then. At this point there were some more clouds just above the layer I was at and I tried to scamper around them.
At this point I noticed a slight descent in the clouds as I was keeping an eye on my breathing and checking for signs of hypoxia. I descended steadily to 16,000 over the course of 20nm, then BOOM the clouds completely disappeared below me. I pushed the nose over HARD and the airspeed climbed into the yellow as I descended to about 8,500 since I had passed the western slope. I bit off the air like it was candy. For the first time in my life I yelled for joy that I was alive. I landed in Rock Springs, took a moment to calm down, fueled up, and took off into a perfect CAVU flying day.
The rest of my legs there and back were pristine and calm, a stark contrast to my first leg.
I learned much from this and am very fortunate to have the opportunity to have learned, and not been killed.
I will require a heavy margin of wx for any mountain flying. I will not be macho and will bring O2 incase I am forced to climb, and I will more readily call for help and divert to a better area.
And yes, apparently you can get a light Archer near the flight levels on a cold day.