Thanksgiving Day 2006

8:00 PM Eastern Local

After a short overnight (actually, an overday), we are back in the flightdeck. Behind us are 150 east coast folks going to the west coast. I have spanned the Empire so many times in the past few days, I cannot keep track anymore. The airports are standing room only, but I have not seen any fights or other bad behavior, yet...

We are up against the aircraft's range limitations, a common occurrence in the winter. The headwinds are strong and the west coast weather is bad, so an alternate airport is required. This translates to no holding fuel and very little taxi fuel. The fuel tanks are completely full. It is raining and the cold winds are buffeting the aircraft as we taxi toward the end of the runway, about number 20 for take-off. One eye on the fuel quantities as we taxi...

9:30 PM Central local

Airborne for two hours; the headwinds are strong, as forecast. Fuel situation is pretty good. The route takes us over Kansas City, then northwest, toward Portland. The winds are too strong for a direct route along the Canadian border, so we had to take the southern route... More miles, but less fuel burn. Four more hours...

ETP (equal time point) 2 hrs. 51 min./2 hrs. 51 min.

We are halfway to our destination. Fuel on board is OK. We can make one approach, then fly to the alternate airport to refuel. Outside, absolute darkness underneath; no lights at all. Above us are beautiful, clear and concise constellations. Some star charts and a watch is all I would need...

11:30 PM Pacific local

Our destination is less than one hour away. Thanks to modern tech miracles, the co-pilot and I have been watching the weather closely. It is very windy at Portland, and raining. The crosswind is perpendicular to the runway surface, which, of course, is wet. The maximum recommended crosswind to land is about 43 m.p.h. Here is a perfect example of a Catch-22 type scenario that the line pilot faces on a routine basis. If the landing is successful, then the boys (or girls) are brilliant... If the aircraft slides off the wet runway into the mud, well, then it is, "What made you think you could land in that wind Captain?"

Thanksgiving Day 2006 (12:10 AM Pacific local)

The control tower cleared us to maintain two thousand until established, cleared for the ILS approach runway ten right. Surface winds one nine zero at thirty two gusting thirty eight. At 2,000 feet above the ground, winds are 50 m.p.h. blowing across the right wing. The crab angle to stay on the localizer (runway lateral radio beam) is substantial. The aircraft is rocking and rolling coming down the glideslope (runway vertical radio beam). Finally, we are underneath the clouds and can see the airport, but it is not in front of the nose. It is to the left side of the nose at about 10 o'clock because of the wind correction angle, or in pilot talk, crab angle. Our aircraft landing lights are two bright light spears piercing the rain drops. I said, "This is going to be interesting."

At 500 feet above the runway, the wind is losing velocity to about 40 m.p.h. directly across the runway. I have to look around the windscreen side post to see the runway; I will remove the crab angle immediately before the tires touch. The turbulence is getting bad; a go-around is now becoming a strong possibility. Two hundred feet... The rain can be seen blowing across the runway. A lighted windsock, to the right, is fully extended, and perpendicular. One hundred feet... Still holding the crab angle. The runway's surface looks like a wet mirror. Turbulence is giving me a hard time; I have merged mentally with the aircraft's control system and am making rapid, subconscious corrections counteracting the turbulence. My conscious thoughts are weighing the pros and cons of attempting the touchdown. Fifty feet and thrust levers back to idle... Hold the crab angle... raise the nose a few degrees. Twenty feet and left rudder pedal to the floor/ right wing down, but not too much, i.e., do not drag the right engine cowling. The fuselage is now, momentarily aligned with the runway. The right main gear touches first, then the left falls onto the runway... Spoilers are up and the lift is blown away with the rain drops. Easy baby, easy... Don't even think about sliding. I pull the reverse thrust triggers, mash on the toe brakes at the same moment. Both of us are thrown forward into the five point harnesses... Very cool!

The stress is leaving my mind and body as we taxi toward the gate; it feels so good. It is dark, windy, and the rain is blowing across the taxiway. The clouds begin to glow as another airliner is coming down the glideslope, then it slices through the cloud bellies into the clear... An amazing sight. The rampers are holding their lighted wands against the wind guiding us in... Yellow rain suits wet and shiny.

The last of the passengers are walking toward their loved ones, as we are gathering our bags and tucking the aircraft in for a wet, but deserved rest. One of the flight attendants asks me if, " I think we will be able to find any restaurants open for turkey dinner." I already know that we will be eating turkey, for sure, at the hotel. We all agree to meet at 3:00 PM for dinner...

Life on the line continues...