Slow Boat to China, Part 2

After a hearty Denver omelette, with some extra buttery toast and hash browns with I-don't-know-what-kind-of grease (bacon?...mmmm good), it was time to load my extra 10 pounds back into the plane. This leg of the trip would be nearly identical to the trip down, but I still stayed low to gain at least a few more knots of speed.

Reaching the vicinity of Greybull, WY, I had to make another decision. I had to climb up to 10,500 if I wanted to be legal (and avoid some cumulo-granite), but I could also skirt the terrain and lengthen the trip a bit, which could also allow me to stay lower (below 3,000 above the ground). I wavered about whether to go east or west, and finally chose west again. Visualizing the flow of air around the mountains, the southeastern flanks were most likely producing some burbling downdrafts that I'd just as soon avoid.

Remarkably, as I climbed, the winds slackened a bit, and I finally broke 100 knots, but not for long. Mostly, it hung around 95. Better than before, anyway.

As I was enjoying my slow, smooth cruise, somewhere in here, the engine decided to keep me honest, and suddenly dropped about 50 RPM. This is a bit unusual. I have kept a watchful eye on the tachometer, since I have never had experience with carburetor ice, and wanted to catch even the slightest drop in power as soon as it occurred. I have read that often, pilots will not notice the drop, or sometimes will just add a bit of power to correct, without realizing the cause. So, when I hear and feel a 50 RPM flutter, I immediately pull the carb heat, push the mixture to full rich, and push the throttle to maintain my power. And then nothing.

If I had indeed had carb ice, there should have been some noticable sputtering and argument from the engine as water is melted into the cylinders. Then, the power should come back up to a normal setting, indicating that, most likely, the ice is cleared and the carb heat can be turned off. First off, the air today was very cold and dry, so icing should not have been a problem in the first place, and I'm not surprised that nothing came of the little incident. I was impressed that I reacted in a split second to what in truth was a minor change in the engine power. I probably could have done nothing and waited to see what would happen, but that's a dangerous choice if you really do have ice in there. Again, like the frost on the wing, most likely it would have turned out benign, but would I be prepared to defend my decision on the accident report? After a minute or so, I put everything back where it was, and the engine ran as if nothing had happened. A bit of water in the fuel? Who knows. But I was ready with a contingency plan if everything went bad.

The rest of the flight was uneventful until it came time for landing back in Billings. There were several planes in the pattern and arriving from outside. I requested the smaller runway more into the wind rather than take it from the side. It meant some careful spacing by the controller which, ultimately, did not work out. I probably was moving slower than he would have preferred, but all it required was a slow 360 out to the north of the field to come in and try again. This time, I was looking straight into the sun, so it was a challenge to squint for the runway and monitor my sink rate. I came in a bit high, but landed smoothly (story of my life).

All in all, a good trip with some new experiences and some new judgments that were needed to complete it successfully. There were probably lots of right answers, but luckily I didn't pick any of the wrong ones either.