The Kilo 5 Challange

There’s also the matter of putting a real flying story in my flying blog, and this weeks entry is yet another typical bravo airspace occurrence: The no-way-in-hell-is-this-standard landing clearance. Ive attached a picture with some reference points to help you understand the situation
I was coming back from my last sortie on a busy Sunday afternoon, and I was in a bit of a hurry because I had another commitment after my flight. As soon as I was over the north end of the west runway, I asked for a right base approach to runway 17. At this point I was about 2000 feet above the ground, but I had plenty of room, roughly 2 miles, to lose all the altitude (Pt. #1). Of course my request was denied due to a string of fast movers inbound for the same runway, but my rapport with ATC in Salt Lake meant that they detected the tone of hurriedness in my voice. So they advised me that “We’ll see what we can do for you Griffin 14″. Less than a minute later I found my self over the numbers of runway 17, still 2000ft off the deck (Pt. #2). As I was getting ready to hold, the familiar voice of one of my favorite salt lake tower controllers cracked across the radio
Tower: “Griffin 14, were going to try to get you in here. Fly a left 270 approach, following a Delta 737 on a 4 mile final, caution wake turbulence from the company, cleared to land runway 17. Can you do it 14?”
Me: “Salt Lake Tower, Griffin 14 cleared to land 17, company in sight, and yes sir we’ll make it happen. Also I would like to request a long landing touching down at exit kilo 5″
Tower: “Griffin 14 approved as requested, but I need you to keep your speed up as long as you can, there is a CRJ coming in behind you.”
Me: “Roger that tower Griffin 14 will bring her in hot”
So I pull the throttle all the way to the back stop and roll the airplane into a steep left turn and bring her in behind the 737. As soon as I rolled level I brought some of the power back in and pointed the airplane at the runway. It was smooth sailing for the time being. The 737 was clear before I crossed the numbers and I was gently slowing the airplane in a very airliner style approach. As I gently descended I left the flaps up to keep my speed up. I wouldn’t need them at this point to make my landing as planned. I was going to touchdown at Kilo 5 (Pt. #3) and roll out to Kilo 4 (Pt. #4) .Then, as with any time that you think everything is going swimmingly in class b, tower had a new request for me.
Tower: “Griffin 14 we need you clear at kilo 5, repeat OFF the runway at kilo 5″
Me: “Griffin 14 roger will advise if unable”
I would have to be stopped off the runway at the point were I had been planning to touch down. My smooth easy approach had just become a short field landing. So I pulled what was left of the power out, and put the airplane into a slip, maintaining a very shallow descent, then a slip to the other direction to get back on center-line. As I pulled in the flaps all at once, I strained against the yoke fighting to keep the airplane from ballooning back up into the air. I won the fight, and as the airplane finally slowed to an acceptable touchdown speed, I set her down firmly onto the runway. I dropped out the flaps, applied maximum safe braking and pulled back mightily on the yoke, in an attempt to bring the bird to a halt. At last I smoothly turned onto kilo five (Pt. #3), and wiped my forehead in relief.
Tower: “Griffin 14, nice landing, thanks for the help. Contact ground on 121.9″
Me: “Tower, Griffin 14. Glad I could help, Adios!”
As I reached for the radio stack to change frequencies, I heard Tower and the  CRJ behind me call in.
Tower: “Skywest 1234, exit when able, back taxi runway 32, stay on my frequency”
Skywest CRJ: “Tower well report clear, back taxi 32 with you, and thanks for the help Griffin aircraft, you saved us a go around”
In the universal sign of roger/your welcome I clicked my mike twice before I switch over to ground. I put the bird to bed, and made it back right on time.
The moral of the story is to be ready for anything when you’re in controlled airspace. There’s also another word every pilot should be willing and able to use; that word is “Unable”. For me this very nonstandard approach was within my personal limits, but that doesn’t mean that everyone can or should try to perform a landing like this. Good pilots should always set personal limits that accurately reflect your level experience and ability, and when something exceeds those limits, don’t be afraid to say “Unable”.
Here’s the diagram. The red line is where I ended up having to go, the blue line is where I planned on going.

Duel in the Dark: Part II

Last night I went down to Fillmore again, listening for the mystery plane all the way. All the way to Fillmore I listened but never heard anything. After a few laps in the pattern, I set her down to reporgram the GPs for the trip back. By the time I was done, the lights had gone back off. As I taxied into position, ready to head for home, I clicked my mike to turn the lights on. After several attempts at getting the lights back on, I gave up and decided to take off into the wild black yonder without the comfort of runway lighting. Then rights as I reached for the throttle, the familiar click-click-click-click-click-click-click of a microphone came across the radio. I looked around wide-eyed looking for the mystery plane, but again it was nowhere to be found. So I keyed my own microphone and said, “Fillmore area traffic, Archer 3 whiskey charlie, departing runway 4… and whoever you are, thanks for turning on the lights”. As I pushed the throttle  to its limit and pointed the airplane towards home, I heard one last transmission from my mysterious friend. He sent only a simple two clicks, a signal know to pilots far and wide to mean “your welcome”.

Duel in the Dark

A couple nights ago, I went on a night cross country flight to Filmore, UT (KFOM). IT was a pretty normal night flight for this time of year in Utah. There were some high clouds, but other than that it was calm and clear. About half way there we heard someone clicking the mike on their radio. For the non-pilots reading this, that means they were tuning on the lights at an airport nearby. Not having heard this guy make a position report, we craned our necks as far as we could scanning the night sky for this mystery airplane. After a few seconds of unsuccessful looking, we gave up on finding him and made a position report of our own on the radio. Now I know this sounds rather mundane, but someone has to be relatively close for you to hear them clicking the mike, so this guy was somewhere near by. The rest of our flight to Fillmore was uneventful except for this mysterious aircraft clicking his mike every five minutes or so. We kept reporting our position and eventually even asked for the mystery plane if they could hear us, and if so to make a report so we would know where they were. No answer ever came, but the clicking continued. We made it back to Salt Lake just fine, but the thought of this unidentified flying clicker remains in the back of my mind. This airplane is still out there somewhere. I’m going back to Fillmore tonight, so whoever you are watch out, I’ll be looking for you.