It had been a long trip home, bucking 30-40 knot headwinds. I still had plenty of fuel, but my workload was increasing as bands of scud flowed over my destination airport from offshore. I really wanted to divert to a nearby towered facility with approaches and cheap gas. I had enough to get to my destination, but wanted to top the tanks at Cheap Gas Regional and save a few bucks before putting my Piper Lance to bed for the day.
But I was tired. It had been a grueling flight so far and if I stuck with the new plan, I’d still have to land and use the self-serve pump to refuel, and then take off again before getting to my car.
Also, the weather wasn’t going to get better. It was good enough to get into VFR-only Home Plate now, but what it would be like in another hour was anyone’s guess. If it got much worse, I wouldn’t get to my car. It was dusk, and an hour from now it would be pitch black out here.
So, I canceled IFR to get below the cloud bases. I needed to stay below the cloud deck to remain VFR but also needed to get higher to spot the airport. I managed to spot it off the right side and turned in that direction to align with the final from a couple of miles out. Not regulation, but there was no one around.
I began timing the outbound as I partially configured the airplane with gear down and the first notch of flaps. I pulled some power off and trimmed for 90 knots, then started looking out the right rear windows for the airport. Some scud got in the way, and I lost sight of it. Turning back forward, I glanced at the airspeed indicator. It was passing through 70 knots on its way to the bottom of the white arc.
That’s when it hit me: a tired pilot, with maybe an hour’s fuel remaining, in the scud. It’s soon to be dark and I’m out here maneuvering in marginal VFR at low level. Just exactly the kinds of facts that populate the back pages of Aviation Safety. My reaction was automatic: add power and push the nose down. Soon, I was back to 90 knots and turned toward the runway. I spotted it, added full flaps, flared and I was down.
I was well on my way to becoming a statistic that evening. The low airspeed indication was what got my attention, but any of the various risks I was embracing would have been enough to create a smoking hole in the ground. As I stacked the deck against a successful outcome, I didn’t pay that much attention to each card I was dealt. But when I considered all the factors, I was really dumb to be out there, doing what I was doing. Your magazine gave me a much-needed wakeup call. Thanks.
