Question: How do you convince a wife who is prone to motion sickness to join you on a cross-country flight in a single-engine airplane in the middle of the summer? Answer: You tell her you will fly her to her nephew’s wedding and assure her that you will try to avoid turbulent air conditions and stop en route at any time.
The June wedding was set to take place at the Brasada Ranch in Bend, Oregon. We had talked about flying commercial, but with the ability to take time off from work and leave at our convenience, it seemed more cost effective and efficient to just fly ourselves. I was excited to fly this trip as it was going to be a long-awaited vacation and my first trip to Oregon from Minnesota in a Cessna 182RG aircraft.
The flight plan was set for us to depart from Crystal, Minnesota (KMIC), early in the morning to take advantage of the cool temperatures. Our first stop would be Sioux Falls, South Dakota. We would then continue west toward Billings, Bozeman, follow the I-90 corridor to Missoula over Lookout Pass, then overnight in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. The next day, we would depart and fly southwest directly into Redmond, Oregon.
We set off in the morning, slightly later than I had initially planned. In my defense, I still had a bit of packing and flight planning to do, but because of the late departure, the afternoon temperatures had started to climb quickly and produce conductive activity over the farmlands in the Midwest. In spite of modifying the cruising altitude for smoother air, my best-laid plans went awry. After much protestations, my wife and co-pilot insisted we land in order to allow her to lie down, vomit and faint. Because of the departure delay, prolonged and consistent convective battles with thermals resulted in a very bumpy ride. The trip was not starting out as smoothly as I’d hoped.
The first fuel stop was at Hot Springs Municipal Airport, South Dakota (KHSR). After landing, I decided to modify the flight plan to take a southerly route to just north of Casper, Wyoming, where we could head west toward the Tetons. The forecast wasn’t promising. The convective conditions were expected to persist through southern Montana for more than the expected flight time. After a small respite in an air-conditioned pilot lounge, I offered to stop the flight and proposed the alternative route. My noble co-pilot (her idea) agreed to proceed further just to get out of the Midwest and reach the cooler weather over the Tetons. Unless we were away from the heat, the convection activity along our original route would likely be around the next day.
With the new flight plan approved, we took off to the south, flying to Casper/Natrona County International Airport (KCPR). This southerly route would prove to be cooler and just as beautiful. The plan would have us flying around the southern end of the Tetons at a lower altitude but in cooler, hopefully less bumpy air.
Approximately 100 nm from the rising terrain just east of the Tetons, Minnesota FAA Center contacted me to amend my IFR plan and suggested a route change to avoid traffic. We were instructed to fly directly west to Pocatello, Idaho (KPIH), above the 13,000–14,000-foot terrain of the Tetons, provided we had the required oxygen for high-altitude flying. I confirmed the onboard oxygen and accepted the proposed IFR flight plan changes. For the next 100 nm, I carefully monitored the Tetons, looking for clouds above the mountains since the outside air temperatures flying at 16,500 feet would be subfreezing.
Before long, my co-pilot, ever the canary in the coal mine, announced that she was feeling ice crystals blowing on her face through the air vents (her trick to abate motion sickness) and was concerned for icing. I heard her concern, but my focus was not on the apparent fogging and frozen moisture build-up on the aircraft windscreen, as I was specifically monitoring the struts and leading edges on the wings for any signs of ice formation. Having lived in Minnesota for many years, I’ve had significant experience with icing conditions on many long cross-country flights in the past. I was used to watching for icing conditions and noticed that these conditions were light and not sufficient to cause any aircraft control issues unless we continued for a significant flight time in the clouds.
After several minutes of flying, the ice did begin to start to form on the leading edges of the plane, and so I executed a rapid U-turn. As we had flown closer to the Tetons, I was able to discern that we would be flying through clouds at the altitude required for proper terrain clearance. After changing our course, I waited until 5 to 10 nm from the rising terrain, then contacted ATC to modify the flight plan back to my originally filed IFR plan.
After approval, we proceeded, turned south to fly the eastern side of the Tetons, then headed west to Pocatello, Idaho (KPIH), for an overnight refueling stop. After a total of five flight hours from starting, we made it into Pocatello for the evening. My co-pilot was pleased to be on solid ground again and to be able to stretch out. She soon began to relive her “near-death” first-time icing experience. I knew once we had eaten, rested and enjoyed the lovely sights of Pocatello, all would be forgotten as it was a relatively uneventful trip. As I had expected, her lack of understanding of
