Light Storm

Posititon: Abeam CYVR (Vancouver, BC)
Altitude: 29,000 feet
Groundspeed: Warp Two
Equipment: A319
Pax-on-Board: 96

Airborne...

The sun, after teasing us with forty-five minutes of soft twilight, finally peeks over the eastern horizon and slams our tired eyes with a brilliant light storm. It is almost laughable that we have to break out the Revos after struggling to stay awake in the pitch-black nothingness in our six, but the starlight is intense... Sunglasses ON.

In ten minutes, I am feeling better with the reset of my circadian body clock by the sun's light.

I can quit sipping Fi-Fi coffee, a noxious mixture of lowest bidder grind and bilge water from the potable tank deep in her belly. As bad as it is, it does a good job keeping you awake, but probably reduces life span two hours for every sip. This might explain the early demise of many a retired airline pilot... That and the three ex-wives.

165 minutes ago... PANC

I reach over my head to turn the flashing red beacon switch to ON, back down to the center console to release the parking brake, look over at the co-pilot who gives me the thumbs up, and then key the mike to the tug driver... brakes released; cleared to push for de-ice.

It had been snowing heavily during pax loading, but has now quit. Do I take a chance and only de-ice the aircraft with relatively inexpensive Type 1 heated glycol and try to beat the next snowfall to the runway, or do I de-ice with Type 1, and then have Type 4 anti-ice fluid applied, a very expensive treatment of magical fluid. In this temperature of minus seven Celsius, it will give us 20 minutes protection against snowfall.

Type 1 gives zero protection against snow at these temperatures... So the question is: Will it snow again before we can get to the runway?

I ask the co-pilot for his opinion, "Type 1 or type 4, whadda you think?"

If we have to return for more de-icing:

1. We will be late.

2. We will be forced to upload more fuel.

3. Any savings will be wiped out, regardless of Type 4 application.

The co-pilot thinks we ought to "Go for it." I think that, too. Iceman plugs into the belly and asks, "What kind of fluid tonight"... I tell him Type 1 only.

Eleven minutes later...

the de-icing is complete, tug is un-hooked, and ramp is holding up the nose gear pin for me to see. I flash the nose gear light briefly... we are good to start engines. The co-pilot cranks number one; I start a mental chant of Oh, please don't start snowing, please, please... No snow.

Both V2500-A-5 engines are turning and burning, flaps set for take-off, flight controls checked and the before take-off checklist complete as I taxi for the runway. Snowman has moved his plows onto a taxiway giving us the freshly plowed runway; ANC tower has cleared us for take-off. The Electric Jet, dripping Type 1 as we turn onto runway 32 at intersection kilo is anxious to get airborne... You can feel it in her circuit boards.

18,000 feet and climbing at 2,400 fpm...

We set our altimeters to 29.92 inches of mercury as we ascend into the flight levels. The little pocket of orange light from Anchorage is fading rapidly. Outside, the winds are rotating toward our tail and getting stronger as we climb. The Warp gate is almost in sight... My dispatcher flight planned us at 29,000 feet for the winds aloft. The flight plan is, as my British friend Trevor says, "Spot on."

Through the Warp gate... Abeam JOH (Johnstown Point)

Sixty knots on the tail pushes us through the Warp gate early (500 knots)... Gotta love these winter winds!

One hundred knots on the tail abeam LAIRE intersection... Groundspeed 560 knots (644 mph).

One hundred-sixty knots southwest of LAIRE... Groundspeed 613 knots (703 mph).

One hundred-one souls, two cats, and one pocket dog riding the jet-stream in a pressurized digital tube over the dark and cold waters of the Pacific... Amazing stuff!

Thirteen hundred and fifty miles to the nest...

Life on the Line continues...