“Cleveland Center Mooney 58Victor is requesting one zero thousand”. “Mooney 58Victor Cleveland unable ten thousand the military has it reserved for refueling operations”.
Westbound at eight thousand the saddles between the buildups we had been weaving through started to exceed our altitude. By climbing to ten thousand we could likely still circumnavigate them. Directly in front of us were three sizeable towers, one to the left, center and right. All looked to be about the same height- yet the one in center was closest on course. Glancing down at my brand new Garmin 396 that had been hastily attached to the yoke, minutes prior to departure, the XM display showed no cells or precipitation ahead. So I turned and said to Judy ‘tighten your seatbelt honey we’re going in”
We had left an hour and a half ago, well past our expected departure time. The trip was from Danbury Connecticut to Cleveland’s Burke Lakefront and was the first of a multi leg journey to Airventure Oshkosh in our 1975 Mooney M20F Executive. We had made this journey in the Mooney six times before. Our plan was depart at 9 am for the two and a half hour leg across Pennsylvania arriving into BKL just before lunch time. The weather forecast was typical for late July in the northeast. Visibilities were reduced in the morning by fog and mist burning off to a broken layer of clouds, with the potential for thunderstorms to develop as the heat of the day progressed. The plane had already been packed, all that was needed were the pilot and passenger to get in and go.
Waking at 6AM the weather was checked and a briefing obtained. Our plan was to have lunch at Hornblower’s on the lake, spend the afternoon at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, an early dinner at the Chophouse and then catch an Indians game. We’d spend the night in Cleveland prior to continuing on to Oshkosh the next morning. We planned to meet a friend in Cleveland who had complimentary tickets to both the museum and the ball game and for that we were to supply the dinner.
Checking in with the office both my wife and I had a series of small fires that needed to be fought prior to us being able to go so-we tended to these as quickly as possible while the hands of the clock moved around the dial. Finally at 11am the battles were won and the ride to the airport was made while finishing calls.
Flight Service provided an update briefing and the METARS across the route were all reporting sky clear below 12000 feet visibility 5 in mist. Departing VFR off of runway 8 at DXR and turning down wind the plane was barely out of the traffic pattern when we started encountering rain and lower clouds produced by the falling precipitation cooling the air to the dew point. My wife asked if we were going to be able to fly the trip visually and frankly I didn’t think so.
Picking our way along VFR until west of the Hudson River, a call to New York departure and a request was made for an IFR clearance from present position to Cleveland. The controller provided a squawk code and once in radar contact cleared us direct to Allentown direct Burke Lakefront at four thousand. We felt better on an IFR plan not being big fans of flying along low in low visibility. On top at four for about 50 miles the tops started encroaching our level, so subsequent requests for six and ultimately eight thousand were made.
With the clouds growing faster, I kept looking for information on my new XM weather device. It showed no precipitation, lightning or cells ahead. When Cleveland Center announced that a center weather advisory and convective sigmet had been issued for the area we were in, rather than altering the plan by setting down and rechecking the weather in the local FBO like we would “pre- XM”, the decision was made to press forward based on the semi real time information that was being beamed to the airplane via satellite.
We entered the center buildup and for a few minutes everything was normal. Suddenly the vertical speed indicator started presenting a 2000 foot per minute climb that the altimeter agreed with. I had reduced power to maneuvering speed a prior to penetration and had it nearly pulled back to idle, yet we were still ascending at an astonishing rate. I applied most of what I had been taught about keeping the wings level -maintaining attitude not altitude and tried to keep the heading somewhat constant. I remember thinking if it didn’t get any worse than this, we might be all right. When the rain and turbulence kicked in along with the updraft it became a handful. The rain sounded like a wood stove burning with the flue wide open but twenty times louder. With the turbulence throwing us into alternating 30 to 45 degree banks the sound would change dramatically when the rain would strike either mostly aluminum or Plexiglas.
Regardless of what was going on outside I was singularly focused on keeping the plane upright and the reality of a loss of control situation started creeping into my mind. For a moment I felt like just giving up and letting go of the airplane as it was getting increasingly difficult to keep it upright and heading west. As that thought crossed my mind I remembered Judy- sitting calmly next to me, confident that her husband, friend and pilot would take her on another great vacation in our little airplane. Picturing her lifeless body, dead in the wreckage, surrounded by our camping gear in the smoldering hulk of aluminum and steel was the motivation that snapped me back into reality.
“Cleveland Mooney 58victor is climbing” I transmitted, to which the controller replied “58Victor VFR?” “Negative sir IFR” and he asked if we thought we could make twelve thousand. Still in the updraft I brought the throttle in and passing through eleven eight suddenly we popped out of the west side of the buildup.
What we came out into was brilliantly clear blue skies with the sunlight brightly illuminating everything including the canyons of towering cumulus we were ensconced within. I went to set the prop to cruise and Judy said “Oh my God Sean your hands are shaking”. On looking at the Garmin 396 it was now displaying bright red, orange and yellow blobs surrounding our position, emblazoned with little yellow lightning bolts. This completely blocked our way into Cleveland. I queried the controller when I reported level at 12000 and he replied that he could likely vector me around most of it.
Judy then shared her opinion, “I think we should land,-closest place”. I hit the nearest button on the KLN89B and it came up with Port Meadville Pennsylvania six miles off our right wing. I told center that we wanted to divert to Port Meadville and he hastily replied “contact Youngstown approach now on 133.95”. I called Youngstown and they cleared us “direct Port Meadville descend four thousand”. We were briefly relieved until realizing that this required descending eight thousand feet in six miles, through the very same clouds we had just flown through. As I started steeling myself for the ride back through the clag Judy shouted “look a hole”. Banking right I spotted a two mile wide hole in the clouds, through which we could see the surface. Pulling the power back to enter a right steep spiral the Mooney corkscrewed down from twelve thousand. On reaching four thousand we headed direct to Port Meadville scraping the bottoms of the broken to overcast deck. We called Youngstown when we saw the field and he cleared us for the visual, stating he had 5 other planes that were diverting there- we cancelled IFR so he could start working the rest of them into the field. We executed another steep spiral from key position on downwind. Rolling off that at 1000 AGL we flew a normal pattern and landed. Safe on the ground we shut down and were amazed at the cloud of airplanes appearing out of nowhere and landing, all taking refuge from the impending storms. We spent the night in Port Meadville and continued on the next morning. I received a text from my friend we were supposed to meet. His flight had arrived into Hopkins eight hours late and he was apologizing for not meeting us. I told him not to worry about it as we never made it into town.
When Cleveland center wouldn’t let us climb any higher the inevitability of flying in bad weather manifested itself. We had been in and out of IMC since departure and being “instrument equipped and capable” this was no big deal. Rather, our inability to determine which of the clouds we were traversing contained convective activity was impossible due to the reduced visibility of flying down low.
Our plan to depart early in the day before the moisture, heat and instability had a chance to create the cauliflower shaped towers we were looking up at was valid and prudent. However life’s demands put off our leaving till late morning. By not fully taking into account how much time had elapsed while we were taking care of business, I chose to depart anyway, after all “it was still morning” and “only a two hour leg”. That was all the justification I needed to make a bad decision. Having onboard weather was another distraction thinking we had a magic crystal ball visibility towards the weather.
The incentive of free tickets and hooking up with a friend, far from home, also clouded my decision making process as was proving to our friend that this little airplane hobby we had-didn’t make us crazy. By meeting him somewhere that he needed the airlines to get to was another misplaced incentive to continue on in weather that was beyond the capability of the pilot and possibly the airplane. You’ll never know you’re in over your head until you’re over your head. How you react to the knowledge once you’re committed determines whether you end up trying again or become an entry in a NTSB report.
We departed Port Meadville at 730 am the next morning and flew through some benign weather. At six thousand feet we were in and out of the clouds, stopping in Rockford Illinois and then into Oshkosh where we flew the VOR 27 approach. It was a complete IFR journey but we briefed and planned it as such so there were few surprises. We set up our camping gear and had a wonderful week with friends old and new at Oshkosh.
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