One beautiful morning, I rolled up to a grass strip in Florida just before the sun came up. I noticed a Cessna 182 completing his run-up and watched him depart as I rolled back the hangar doors. I was going to meet my friend Charley for an early morning instructional flight in a light sport aircraft (LSA) I was considering purchasing, and I wanted to get a head start on my preflight.
Our taxi and departure to the east was smooth and the climbout from the undulating runway was beautiful as the sun peeked over the horizon.
If you're not already a subscriber, what are you waiting for? Subscribe today to get the issue as soon as it is released in either Print or Digital formats.
Subscribe NowIt was our intention to get some steep turns, stalls, and a few touch-and-goes at a nearby tower airport before returning for a full stop at the little 2,300-foot grass strip.
Like a lot of LSAs today, this one was equipped with two Garmin G3X Touch displays that allowed us to keep the traffic display enlarged. I really liked this setup as I had recently retired from the airlines and always flew with the help of the TCAS displaying unseen traffic.
Approaching the field from the east, I made the obligatory call over the CTAF frequency announcing our position and intentions. We overflew the field 500 feet above pattern altitude to look for airplanes on the runway and a check of the wind sock. Calm winds on the ground allowed a landing either way, so I decided to enter a left downwind for Runway 9 and made another position announcement to which Charley commented, “I’ve been hangared at this field for nine years, and I’ve only seen another airplane here one time.”
Entering downwind, I slowed the airplane, completed a before-landing checklist, and glanced one more time at the traffic display. Set on the 2-mile scale, it showed no other aircraft in the area, and the radio had been silent so we had the place to ourselves.
The approaches to the field have obstructions from both directions. A large tree encroaches final if landing Runway 27 and tall power lines if landing Runway 9, so I was finding I needed to pay strict attention to airspeed and glideslope control. In addition to the unconventional approach, the runway, as mentioned earlier, is hilly—so much so that standing on one end, the opposite end is obstructed by a fairly significant hill in the middle.
- READ MORE: Fueling Speculation: Sumping for Safety Still Critical to Preflight Checklist
- READ MORE: Humbling Flight: Structural Ice Can Be Unpredictable and Unforgiving
I made the turn to final to cross over the power lines at 350 feet agl. Crossing the fence at 55 knots, I closed the throttle and shifted my focus to the opposite horizon (obstructed by the hill in the middle). I managed a nice touchdown on the mains and held the nosewheel off as the airplane began to decelerate. Just then, a very large Cessna 182 appeared over the hill head-on.
This was it. Crunch time. Slow motion ensued.
“When approaching head on, both aircraft will move to the right.”
The little grass field isn’t very wide. Both he and I moved to the right—my low wing and his high wing. Did we overlap wings? I don’t know. With extreme luck, we met at a wider part of the field where we were able to move a bit farther over.
We taxied back to the hangar, and Charley asked me to put the airplane away as he was late for an appointment. I obliged. As I was securing the airplane, another resident pilot approached me holding a hand-held radio. He asked what happened. I told him my version.
He mentioned the 182 pilot had not made an announcement on CTAF when he departed, so he probably hadn’t heard my announcements on his return. He also said he didn’t recognize the airplane, so it wasn’t a local resident. I was never able to locate the pilot of that airplane for a debrief, but from the information given by the observer, he had departed on Runway 9 and returned for a straight in onto Runway 27, hence our head-on encounter.
Two aircraft touching down at the exact same time would be hard to re-create even if you briefed it and planned for it. To some extent, this was just bad luck, but it was a near miss in my 12,000-hour aviation career I will never forget. What did I learn from it?
• A small comment can set an expectation: “I’ve been hangared at this field for nine years, and I’ve only seen another airplane here one time.” We can’t assume our position announcements are heard or understood. Make your announcements clear and remain vigilant.
• Our airplane was equipped with wig-wag lights, but we didn’t use them for some reason. Use everything that will help other pilots see you.
• Setting a 2-mile scale on the traffic display in the pattern had been my habit, so as to declutter those aircraft that wouldn’t be a factor. In this case, with a 2-mile scale, as we flew west on downwind, his approach to Runway 27 from the east was outside our display range. I’ll consider using a 6-mile scale at uncontrolled fields, adding a quick check of it on final as well.
• Be especially vigilant on runways you are most comfortable with. A quick check down the runway and of the opposite approach on short final may save you some day.
This column first appeared in the October Issue 963 of the FLYING print edition.
