We often think of wind in terms of crosswind components. Some airframes have specific limitations, say 30 knots. Some have “demonstrated” limits, allowing you to legally land with crosswinds exceeding those numbers but effectively making you a test pilot.
What’s your comfort number?
Returning home to Addison (KADS) from a March speaking engagement at the Twin Cessna Flyers conference in Tucson, I got to test mine in more ways than one. The flight out, two days earlier in the P Baron, was a one-stop affair against 30-40 knot headwinds. A huge low-pressure system was developing over the southwest and was predicted to create havoc as it lumbered eastward. Over the next two days, it would produce 99 tornadoes from Arkansas to Georgia and kill more than forty people.
As I briefed the 9 AM Tucson departure, it was obvious from the Dallas forecast that I would be grounded.
FM 141800 25028G45KT 4SM HZ SKC
Addison’s runway alignment (16/34) created a ninety-degree crosswind at or exceeding my airplane’s demonstrated performance. There was no way, with my limited PBaron experience, I wanted to challenge those test pilot numbers.
On this day, however, I had a real test pilot with me. Mentor Doug Moss, a PBaron owner, with vast experience. Together, we developed a plan. And off we went. The low was pushing ahead of us, creating visibilities of less than one mile in blowing dust over much of the route. But turbulence, both forecast and reported, was minimal at our planned cruising altitude of FL210. The significant crosswinds at our destination were not forecast east of Dallas, providing alternate landing options.
Our plan:
(1) Doug would fly the approach and landing.
(2) In the event of an unstable approach, we would divert to Dallas Love (KDAL), which had runways with thirty degrees less crosswind component.
(3) We would divert to Tyler (KTYR) if necessary.
At cruise altitude, in smooth air, it was impressive to see 300 knot ground speeds. Below us, blowing dust prevailed at most reporting stations, including one with zero visibility.
Descending into Dallas, it was eerily quiet on the radio as we contacted Lone Star approach.
“Addison information Kilo, wind two-five-zero at twenty-three gusting thirty-six, visibility four, haze.” Doug took over the controls, and I handled the radios. He disconnected the autopilot, and hand flew to test the control authority available in the gusty, moderate turbulence. He briefed the landing procedure he would use, including control inputs, differential power if necessary, and his go-around plan.
“November five eight papa zulu, this is going to be an extended vector because of numerous aircraft holding for DFW due to the crosswinds,” said the controller. As we contacted the tower, I asked for a wind check. “Two-eight-zero at one-eight gusting two-nine,” came the reply.
On final, we were stable, with airspeed plus or minus ten knots from targets. Doug was definitely challenged as we crossed the threshold, his hands and feet in a symphony of continuous motion. I would have called it a wild ride.
He called it Friday.
Fly safe.
