It was cold. That isn’t always a bad thing. Engines have more power; wings produce greater lift (more or less). But there was also moisture. Quite a bit of it in fact. And that is just no fun when it’s below freezing. Throw in the fact that I was at the end of a long five-day trip, rapidly approaching 15 hours since the last time my head had hit a pillow, and that my ATP certificate was still foldable (as in temporary paper), and you have a nice start to a National Transportation Safety Board report.
I had just north of 1,600 hours total time, and I was bravely in command of the mighty Beech 1900. My first airline command. The four stripes on my epaulets were starched new. Everyone learns somewhere. It’s probably better that the 18 passengers behind us had no idea that I was doing so on their dime, especially in the middle of a winter storm that extended across the Rocky Mountain range.
