Flight Level 390

Over the fence with gear down and locked.

We awoke to moderate rain showers and IFR weather conditions this morning in DCA. Thankfully, the outside air temperature was well above freezing. However, a wet runway presents a performance problem which is compounded when the runway is short, as in DCA. I worked with my dispatcher to tweak the take-off weight to the last ounce, but we still had to ask for volunteers to get off the airplane. Ten empty seats were needed to make the reduced take-off weight. The airline offered $300 vouchers which did the trick.

Our V2500-A5 engines blasted us off the wet runway and into the low rain clouds. The co-pilot banked left to intercept the 328 degree course away from DCA and the maze of prohibited airspace. At 1,500 feet above the ground, I reduced the thrust to climb power and watched the engine temperatures decline. Flaps up at 220 m.p.h., climb at 235 m.p.h. until 3,000 feet above the ground, then 280 m.p.h. climb speed until 10,000 feet above sea level. Above ten thousand feet the co-pilot lowered the nose and let her go fast. Five hours and one minute later we touched down in Las Vegas to change aircraft for our leg to Seattle.

When the fueler, while fueling our new aircraft, tried to close the small door covering the single point refueling station, the latch broke. I called maintenance control which sent three technicians to our gate with tools at the ready. Our flight to Seattle was a linchpin flight which must depart on time to keep the master schedule intact. The maintenance techs quickly fixed the latch and we were on our way to Seattle nine minutes late. Two hours and ten minutes later we touched down in Seattle. The weather is beautiful in Seattle and all the little earth muffins are out playing their guitars and selling beads. I walked to an Italian coffee shop, then down to the Farmer's Market.

All is well...

The ride was smooth today enroute to DCA at Flight Level 370. Behind the cockpit... oops, flight deck door, a full load of 124 passengers and three senior female flight attendants. All three have been at this airline longer than I and have the scars to prove it. The co-pilot is a 35 year old male, graduate of Embry-Riddle University, and extremely competent. I have flown with him before on several occasions. Riddlers (as we call them), as a group, are some of the best pilots available for any airline. Strong tailwinds enabled a groundspeed of warp factor 9, which we held all the way to DCA. I am not thinking about tomorrow when we will be sub-light speed westbound. The weather at DCA for our arrival was marginal VFR, as forecast. Approach control cleared us for the LDA approach to runway 19. One thousand feet above the ground we encountered visual conditions. Another airliner was less than three miles in front of us on the approach. We could clearly see the fuselage as he banked right to intercept the final at 240 feet above the ground. As soon as it touched down another airliner moved into position for take-off with the instructions "Be ready for an immediate; 320 on short final (us)", which translates: get the engines spooled up and ready to accept take-off thrust. I remarked to the co-pilot that the spacing was grim and to be ready for a go around. The landing airliner cleared the runway just as the control tower told the airliner in position "cleared for take-off." I squared the turn to final as much as possible, before banking right to line up with the runway. The departing airliner accelerated rapidly leaving heat and turbulence in it's wake. I began the landing flare mentally ready to shove the thrust levers forward for the go around maneuver on the tower's command. The airliner lifted off moments before we touched down. As I began applying wheel brakes and maximum reverse thrust, I heard tower give instructions to another crew; "Move onto the runway and be ready for an immediate, 737 on short final." We cleared the runway quickly... a few moments later, that crew blasted off while another landed.

Welcome to DCA.

Westbound looking down on the sands of Pensacola.

Last night, in San Francisco, while using hi-speed wireless internet, three viruses tried to infiltrate my laptop in quick succession. My Norton anti-virus software, which I update on a regular basis, stopped them. Amazing! This is the very first time I have been attacked on the internet.

Be careful out there!

Apparently, the unknown powers in charge of my schedule have decided I am to be a day flyer for awhile. I am bidding for the night schedule but am not having any luck. I have flown under the stars for so many years that, now, I prefer it. This morning, in San Francisco, I had to hit the deck at 3:30 AM for a 6:00 AM push. Some of our senior Captains have told me on many occasions about the joys of flying a normal daytime schedule. Well, when I needed one this morning to take this early morning departure for a joyful day of flying... no senior Captains in sight.

This evening I am in Ft. Lauderdale. Before dinner, I swam laps in an immense heated pool. Then the co-pilot and I walked to a fish shack for an excellent dinner. The atmosphere is cool and crisp. Florida is beautiful this time of year.

My co-pilot told me about a recent event in his life that is rather shocking. I will write a short version for this blog.

At fifteen minutes after midnight, as they were watching TV, the door bell rang. The co-pilot's girlfriend, a company flight attendant, looked through the peep hole to see a large, unknown male. She told the co-pilot; he then walked to his office and, with the lights off, peered through the blinds looking onto the front porch area. He saw a second male hiding out of view of the peep hole. While he was thinking about the situation, the perps kicked the door in with extreme force sending wood shrapnel down the entrance hall. The girlfriend screamed as the perps entered the home. The co-pilot quickly directed his girlfriend to flee the house via the back door. He proceeded to confront the two perps in the hallway. They were large, young males dressed in full gangsta apparel. The co-pilot grabbed a kitchen knife (the shotgun was upstairs); the gangsta thugs produced handguns and began firing at the co-pilot from a distance of 12 feet.

The young thugs were holding their pistols sideways, as shown in most Hollywood crapola. Each time they pulled the triggers the guns were moving in a small right arc causing the bullets to strike the brick wall to the left of the co-pilot. He quickly retreated out the sliding glass door into the backyard. The thugs sent two rounds after him which shattered the glass doors. The co-pilot found his girlfriend hiding in the yard shed; she thought he had been killed in the hail of bullets. The girlfriend had her cellphone in a pocket when she ran out the back door. She called 911... the police helicopter arrived within a few minutes. The patrol cars arrived a few minutes after that. The gangstas had fled moments before...

Unbelievable! To survive a home invasion is darn lucky. I asked him what changes they had made in home security. They are:
1. Security doors installed.
2. Purchased another shotgun for downstairs.

The perps, who were finally captured, left a trail of dead citizens in their wake. The dead tried to cooperate and defuse the situation when faced with ultimate evil. The outcome speaks for itself.

Why do days off pass by rapidly, yet work days flow like a cold river of molasses? It is a paradox of time and space in one's own existence. Today, we flew to So Cal for a not so quick turn; one of our hydraulic pumps broke enroute. Maintenance Control decided to let us continue the day's flying utilizing a stand-by pump. I was OK with that since the stand-by pump also has a back-up. The paperwork involved with that decision was a real pain in the rear, though. Thirty minutes after our scheduled departure time, I completed the paper trail.

Then, we boarded 150 angry passengers for the flight east.

Dust storm west of El Paso.

How many times have I heard "This is your wake-up call, have a nice day." At 2:00 A.M. circadian rhythm time, it is hard to think about having a nice day. However, after a hot shower and cup of coffee, it is back into the flight deck to go west young man; OK, maybe not that young, but west we will go ( and three days off).

Last night, at midnight, we landed a heavily laden airliner on a short runway in Connecticut. This airport is located in a shallow basin surrounded by wooded hills. A few years ago, another airline's crew clipped some tree tops landing on the same runway, at night and in bad weather. They damaged the plane and scared the heck out of the passengers, but were able to limp to the runway, despite both engines having ingested tree branches. It was a close call and a learning experience for every airline pilot. The weather conditions that night were atrocious with snow, low visibility, and strong winds. The kicker, though, was an extremely low altimeter setting which was falling rapidly. They began the instrument approach with an altimeter setting obtained from recorded weather that is updated at least once an hour, or more if needed. The setting being broadcast was higher than the actual barometric pressure at the time they began their approach. That in itself would not have been enough to cause contact with the trees, but as in most airline incidents or accidents, there are usually other factors at work.

It is known in the airline business as the "holes in the cheese" explanation. Imagine several slices of swiss cheese layered in a stack. Could something get through the stack from top to bottom? Yes, most probably it could. It is insidious. On that night, the crew began a non-precision approach (VOR approach) to the runway. When they leveled off at the minimum descent altitude (MDA) on the final approach segment, several things were conspiring against them:
1. The turbulence at low altitudes was substantial.
2. The barometric pressure was falling rapidly.
3. The Captain, the flying pilot, inadvertently descended two hundred feet below the minimum descent altitude.

Eventhough the altitude excursion was momentary, it was enough to put them into the trees. And, as the old axiom goes, the rest is history.

Over the years, I have heard fellow pilots make statements like, "What an idiot! I can't believe he/she did something like that. Where did they learn to fly?" OK, I admit to making a few statements like that when I was a young pilot and thought I knew more than the old guy in the left seat. Usually, when I shot off my mouth in criticism of a fellow aviator, in a week-month-year I would do something equally bad or worse. I have learned to keep my mouth shut... tightly. No need to tempt the karma of But by the Grace of God, there go I.

So, last night, as the co-pilot (the flying pilot) was calling for landing gear and flaps over the final approach fix, I remembered...

My airline has scheduling software that will allow pilots to trade trips within certain parameters, so I posted one of my trips, with two very early morning departures, on the trade board. Sure enough, another Captain wanted my trip over his assigned trip. I was ecstatic to dump 3:00 A.M. get ups. I have flown the vampire schedule for too many years and have become accustomed to night flying.

I finished the first day of my new trip about an hour ago. We flew all day in the western reaches of the Empire with the longest flight time being 1 hour and 32 minutes. Most legs today were less than 45 minutes in length. I love this kind of flying in a big jet. It is a real kick in the pants!

I am very tired, in fact, my face is about to fall on the keyboard. Our duty day was 12 hours with 7 hours and 50 minutes flight time; 10 minutes under max allowed. Must sleep...

Well, I was in the groove until recently. As I expected, back to the ploppers. It started with a crosswind landing at San Diego on my last trip. Not to worry, though. I blamed it on the co-pilot.

The rumor mill is running at maximum capacity in the airline world. The big shake out is getting closer. You can hear it... just over the event horizon. It sounds like far away thunder, but it is coming. A lot of experts think they know what is coming, what it will look like, what it will mean. Maybe they are correct... but if the price of jet fuel does not fall dramatically, it will not matter. No airline business model can stand contemporary fuel prices and low ticket prices. I forecast ticket prices will not go up much because of the internet. There is not enough customer loyalty for any given carrier. Instead, it is a migration to the lowest ticket price via the left mouse button.

If passengers think current airline service is bad, wait until they see a government run airline. Can you say Aeroflot?

The River Visual approach.

It is that time of the year when the days are getting noticeably longer. During the winter, when I fly the red-eyes to the east coast for a morning arrival, we land in total darkness. Not so this morning at Washington D.C.'s Ronald Reagan airport. The sun was well above the horizon when we touched down. The morning twilight was visible 500 miles west of the airport. The co-pilot and I literally flew all night. We started in a western province at sunset, flew to the far reaches of the Empire, then landed in the morning light. Unreal...

Air Traffic Control assigned us the RIVER VISUAL Rwy 19. This is what I refer to as a technical approach, i.e., the pilots must be very careful in it's execution, lest they screw the pooch. The adrenaline is flowing flying this procedure. The flying pilot is yanking, banking, descending, and configuring while following the Potomac river to the airport. On the east bank of the river is some of the hottest prohibited airspace in the world. This morning, I, the flying pilot, was dealing with a 40 knot crosswind from the west during the approach. This yields unusual wind crab angles while following the meandering river. The non-flying pilot is hyper-active crosschecking the approach plate with the instruments, watching for small aircraft blundering into our path, and crosschecking the flying pilot's actions. Then, the finale; a steep right bank at 240 feet above the ground is required to roll onto final approach. Think about this for a moment...how close to terra firma is the right wingtip? Yikes!

And this is after flying all night...

I began my day in Detroit at 5:30 AM local time. The skies were leaden with cold rain falling from low clouds and a strong wind from the north. Yuk! I was concerned that the inbound aircraft would be late, but I was worrying for naught. Our bird was sitting at the gate. The passenger load was absolutely full and I don't blame them. The weather in Arizona and California is beautiful today. We departed on schedule for sun country.

I picked up a small, lovely hitchhiker in Arizona (my wife) for the last leg to southern California for the overnight. We walked to Seaport Village for a day of shopping and eating. Tonight, we saw a good movie in San Diego's Gas Lamp District.

What an amazing transition- cold and wet Michigan to warm and sunny California.

Where did it go? I just put the Christmas tree away, did I not? Oh well, time flys when you are having fun, so I have been told. I am back in Detroit on a short overnight after four days off. My wife talked me into painting a few walls and doors. I tried "But, honey, I'm a Captain of the Airways"; I still painted.

We have a big day tomorrow with an early push. Must sleep...