Kansas City to Las Vegas -7 Jan 05 0600L

Outside air temp (OAT) 10 degrees F. Less than a week after a huge ice storm slammed the Kansas City (MCI) airport for a couple of days.

We arrive at the jet to find a toasty 300 model waiting. The heater carts have kept the plane warm all night and that makes life much better for the originating crew. We get the plane ready for pushback as the passengers board. Once boarding is complete, we close the door and push back and await the deice truck. After a ten minute deice procedure to remove all the crusty frost that formed overnight, we start engines and taxi out for departure. We wait to put the pressurization/heating packs back on until we have taxied a minute or so to exhaust any deice fumes. Once configured for takeoff, we barely smell the “maple oatmeal” smell of icing fluid as we blast off into clear skies and point the bird west toward Las Vegas.

Enroute we encounter nasty chop at FL350. After a few minutes with no other ride reports (too early for other aircraft to be airborne out west), I ask if we can climb to 37,000 and fly the wrong way (for the altitude) to stay out of the bumps. ATC approves our climb and we find the ride much better. Were we in a 737-700 we could have gone all the way to FL410 but the 300 is limited to FL370. We enjoy intermittent bumps all the way to Las Vegas with the seatbelt sign going on and off about a dozen times over three hours. The headwinds are so high (130kts for awhile) we know there is no hope of making LAS on time. We pull into the gate about 20 late due to the winds and the de-icing process.

LAS-Reno-

A huge winter storm has been slamming the Sierras for days. Around Christmas, snow showers covered the Instrument Landing System (ILS) antenna in Reno and cause the ILS to shutdown for over a day, stranding hundreds of passengers. I fear a reoccurrence.

Prior to push, company dispatch sends us an urgent message to call then prior to closing the door. I call “mom” and am told that RNO weather is getting worse with visibility now at ½ mile, the absolute minimum visibility necessary to fly the ILS into a deep valley surrounded by huge mountains --and land. We mutually decide to gas the jet up with extra fuel and fly to RNO. Prior to descent we will ensure the ILS is up and field conditions are good (taxiways plowed, runway clear, etc.). Earlier this morning, so many planes were taxiing in line to get deiced, planes arriving couldn’t make it to their gates. Reports by company station personnel indicate the airport situation now is good. We close the door and blast off for Reno.

Climbout from LAS is pretty good with a few bumps associated with the clouds blowing in from the soggy west. Once level, we marvel at the smooth ride. The winds are whipping across the Sierras at about 110 mph and yet the ride is smooth. Very unusual indeed. Closer to Reno, we receive the latest weather broadcast and it reports moderate bumps in the descent into RNO. That is echoed by ATC as we switch over to approach in our descent where we are advised of moderate turbulence below 13,000 feet. We look at each other thinking: “It’s about time we hit some bumps.” We sit the Flight Attendants down early and cruise into the clouds at about 20,000 feet. We will not the ground until 200 feet above the airport on the ILS.

After a longer than usual vectoring process behind aircraft in front of us, we are cleared for the approach, all the while bouncing around as the winds whip through the Reno/Stead area at 25-30 mph at our altitude. While on approach and after being switched to tower frequency, we hear tower request a braking action report from the American jet landing right ahead of us. His report: Fair. That’s pretty good for this type weather. Ceiling: reported at 700 feet above the ground. Visibility: right at approach minimums of ½ mile with blowing snow.

Company procedures in this low visibility state direct the F/O to fly the plane to minimums (the decision point) and, if the runway is not in sight, immediately execute the missed approach procedure (a go around). I will be watching out the front window through my HUD (Heads Up Display) looking for any sight of the runway. Once sighted, I will take control of the aircraft and land it. I see the runway lights at about 300 feet and we land nice and smooth on a narrow slushy and snowy runway that has been plowed out of the center of the snow-laden runway. We come to taxi speed just prior to our usual taxiway exit and I mash on the brakes a few times, much as you do in a car on the snow, to see what kind of traction is available: The plane skids on the runway but does slow down. We report to tower runway braking action is fair. This report is passed on to the next aircraft only a minute or so out from landing. We taxi to our gate and shut down. I head out to check the aircraft for ice contamination before we raise the flaps all the way up. I tell my F/O to expect a slap on the fuselage if all is clear. Instead I slap his side window with a nice fresh snowball. He gives me a thumbs up and a big smile.

RNO-LAS

With the ever increasing rate of snowfall, deice procedures only make sense right at the runway because the holdover time for the deice fluid is a scant few minutes in these conditions. Our deice truck is blasting departing aircraft on the parallel taxiway just shy of the runway. Only able to do one plane at a time, we wait at the gate until we are called.

During boarding, we have a couple of young sisters on their way to Disneyland who are not happy about the weather. One is eight and the other will be ten tomorrow. We tell them they will enjoy Disneyland and to relax. We tell them there will be a few bumps on climbout but they are free to hold their hands up and scream as they would on a roller coaster ride, if they chose. They look at each other with crunched brows and then look at us like we are nuts. My F/O and I laugh at each other and they relax and head back to their seats. It is time for me to talk to the passengers.

I advise the passengers we will be deicing near the runway so ignore all the snow on the wings for now. I inform them I will be in the cabin for a “look see” during deice to gain a personal assessment from a closer vantage point. Our deice crews are well trained but I always like to look for myself. I also mention the ride out of Reno and tell the folks we’ll keep the FA’s in their seats during climbout. Once the folks are briefed, we are ready to go.

Finally, we are called by the deice crew and told they are ready for us. We push back from the gate, start our engines, and tiptoe out to find them. Tower can no longer see us with the heavy snowfall, the runway and taxiway signs are covered with snow (good thing I have been here before!), and the deice crew is in a white truck. We see their flashing light on the truck as well as an airport official helping out. His truck is equipped with police style “mars bars” lights blazing away. We pull in and shut off the air conditioning in preparation for deice.

After about two minutes of deice operation on my side of the plane, I head back to the cabin. Every eye is on me and, due to all the attention and the concern, I feel like busting out laughing. I manage a friendly smile and ask one lady if she minds while I peek over her to see how things look on her wing. “Pretty good now,” she says. Moving to the untreated wing, the lady there says in a high voice, “Not so good over here though!!!”

I reassure her our guy in the cherry picker will do as good a job on this wing as he did on the other wing before we go flying. I head back to the cockpit and strap in. We have checklists to run before we blast off and I want to be ready because unnecessary delays are unacceptable in my book under these conditions. A minute later, “Iceman” calls our tail number and informs us we are clean and icing is complete. We thank him and set about configuring the plane for immediate departure.

In two minutes, we are ready and advise Reno Ground that we are ready for departure. The controller acknowledges and sends us to Tower frequency. As we switch over and taxi the last hundred feet to the end of the runway, we hear Tower clearing a company plane to execute the missed approach procedure. The ILS has just gone down. Tower clears us on the runway for departure but I realize we are dead in the water without an ILS. It is the principle navigation aid used on departure to keep us from running into the mountains on both sides of our departure path. Plus, should we lose an engine on departure (and we always plan as though we will) the ILS is what assures us we are in the middle of the valley should we have to start a turn back for the airport in the weather. “We are toast,” I advise my F/O. He passes on the bad news to Tower and they tell us to advise them when we figure out what we’ll do. Meanwhile, another company plane is just starting deice and is unaware the ILS has shut down. He hears our call to Reno operations. We decide the ILS is not required if we takeoff to the north and advise Tower accordingly. As we taxi back toward the other end of the runway we see our company aircraft that was deicing has come to the same conclusion and is heading that way in front of us with Iceman following along in close trail.

We coordinate with company dispatch folks on the problem and they are uncertain about the need for the ILS on departure. I hold my ground and, always with the last word, they agree to the north departure. I make another of what will be at least a dozen update PA’s to the passengers and crew in back who are wondering what is going on.

One hour and fifteen minutes after we pushed back from the gate, we take the runway in blowing snow and blast off into what to this Phoenix boy looks every bit like a blizzard. We bump our way through the first few thousand feet where it smoothes somewhat. I remind the folks via the PA that these are the bumps I told them about at the gate. In a few minutes we are back into some very active moderate turbulence. I think of the girls in the back and wonder what is going through their minds. I grab the microphone and make the following PA: “Folks, this “wiggly-jiggly stuff” should be the last of the big bumps. The wind across the Sierras has picked up significantly from what it was when we arrived. If it makes you feel better, feel free to hold your hands up over your head and scream like you are on a roller coaster. That’s encouraged on this airline.” I closed with “Isn’t winter FUN???”

In about five minutes we were on top and it is smooth, just like the trip into Reno. Just in case, we sit the F/A’s well early at top of descent for their safety and bust through a few bumps in the clouds west of Las Vegas. In an effort to save a few minutes, we ask for the shortcut visual approach to 19 which brings us in right over the north end of the strip and we circle right around the Stratosphere casino as we land. ATC approves our request and as we get hammered through the last couple of clouds, I tell the folks on the right side to enjoy the upcoming view. We pop out of the clouds and we are higher than Hades on right base for RWY 19 and I tell my F/O, “GEAR DOWN –FLAPS FORTY!!!” I slow the jet down to a crawl and with 30 kts of wind blowing up my tail, fly a few extra miles to help get us down. It works out nicely and at 1000 feet above the runway, we are on approach speed and on glideslope. We roll into the gate over an hour and a half late. The passengers thank us for keeping them informed and most exit with smiles and thanks. A few are still not sure of what they just experienced.

My F/O and I find we have missed the last flight we were supposed to fly to Phoenix. The airline has grabbed two pilots who thought they were going to the hotel and given them our flight. We have exhausted our legal duty day of 8 hours and now must deadhead to Phoenix as passengers. We both snooze most of the way and awaken to the plane landing. I look at my watch as we taxi into the gate and we are home nearly four hours later than scheduled.

We are proof again that, when up against Mother Nature’s power, the clock and schedule go out the window. Safety is first. We will do what we can do to get our passengers to their destination but we alone make the decision to go or not go.

(By the way, my F/O for this trip was a fairly new guy with the company, on line about two years. His “previous life” involved fighter jets and he remarked matter of factly while sitting at the gate in Reno, “In the service, you wouldn’t think of flying in weather like this.” I could tell by the smile on his face that he thought the new challenge of airline flying was kind of fun. He did a super job in helping me do mine.)