Change is the Plan

During my time instructing, there was an IBM commercial that I would describe to my students to convey to them what I thought to be the proper attitude with which to approach flying. In this commercial two management employees from a given company are wandering around a western European city, one, talking with an associate on the other side of the ocean. Over the course of the conversation this employee is having with his teammate on the other end of the telephone, the time and place at which they will meet up changes several times to various locations dotted across the continental US. When the employee hangs up, the partner who has been standing next to him asks what the plan is, to which the associate who has just got off the phone responds "the usual".

The principle which I was trying to convey to my students was that, despite having a plan, we must be flexible and have the ability to change our plan to match our circumstances, both of which can change at a moments notice. A good percentage of the time the weather and our aircraft cooperate and we make it to our destination without a hitch, however, from time to time the original plan goes out the window and we are left to contemplate Plan B.

I pull into the hangar parking lot about an hour and a half before our planned departure time of 6:00. Having already looked at the weather before leaving home, I figured that the destination I was texted yesterday evening by dispatch would not be where I would end up later today.
The plan was to fly 5 passengers to Mildred Lake, an oilsands strip sitting 25 or so miles to the North of Fort McMurray and sit there for the day, returning home in the early evening.

Throughout the northeast of the province, a 200 foot ceiling which had prevented a number of flights from making it into the Mcmurray area yesterday sat waiting for another days round of flights. Today I was scheduled to fly the 1900, whose GPS unit is only certified for enroute and terminal operations, not for approaches. This limitation would prevent us from descending below approximately 2000' due to Mildred only having GPS approaches. With the conditions in the Mcmurray area forecast to persist for the day, the possibility that we would successfully get into Mildred were slim bordering on none. We could possibly land at Fort Mcmurray, whose ILS approach would offer us a much better chance of getting in, although this would mean our passengers would face a 45 minute or more drive after arriving in Fort Mcmurray.

A call to dispatch confirmed what I had already suspected since I had first checked the weather this morning; we would not be going to Mildred. We would switch trips with one of the King Airs who could fly the GPS approach into Mildred, and we would take their passengers to Firebag, another oilpatch strip to the north of Mcmurray. With a new set of passengers and our flight plan loaded into the GPS, we took off northeast-bound into a black sky. Out the right window of the cockpit a thin pink line was beginning to creep over the eastern horizon. With any luck, we would arrive before the sun rose, as the light of day could make spotting the approach lights through the murk more difficult, and could decrease the possibility that we will be landing in Firebag.

Just beyond 60 miles from the field, we begin our descent out of FL250. We are informed that we are number three for landing at Firebag behind a 737 and a regional jet, and to reduce our speed to help prevent having to hold for the traffic ahead. I bring the power levers back and slow to 160 knots. Listening to the center frequency for the Mcmurray area, we hear the first regional jet, followed by the 737, land successfully at Firebag, both reporting that they had the approach lights at 100 feet above minimums. We remain guardedly optimistic as under the right conditions the arrival of flights can lower the ceiling around the airport due mainly to the addition of the water vapor from the exhaust of the engines to the surrounding air.

Turning a 10 mile final for runway 34 at 3900 feet, the cloud is still a few hundred feet below us.
Descending through 3200, about 1500' above the ground, we enter the cloud, and all at once are enveloped in grey. I concentrate on tracking the localizer, which will lead us to the runway centerline. Like flying in a funnel that will eventually spit us out about a half mile before the runway at around 250 feet, the localizer and glideslope both become progressively more sensitive the closer to the runway we get, requiring small corrections to our path in order to keep us in a good position to land once we reach decision height. At 300 feet above the ground, 50 feet above decision height, the glow of the approach lights becomes dimly visible through the mist. At decision height, the Captain, who has had the runway in sight for the last 30 or so feet, takes control and continues with the landing as I monitor the flight instruments and call out his airspeed and altitude. "ref plus 10,,.. 100 feet,..50 feet,.. 30,.. ref plus 5,... 20 feet,.. 10 feet,..." There is a slight thud as the main gear comes into contact with the runway, the captain pulls the power levers up over the detent to select reverse, pushing my weight forward into the shoulder straps. Looking outside for the first time since starting the approach, the trailers serving as the terminal building here are barely visible as we taxi off the runway and towards the ramp. I call down and clear of the runway first to Firebag traffic, then to Edmonton Centre, who has been waiting for our call to give the following aircraft their approach clearance. I keep an eye on my wingtip as we maneuver through the ramp, while at the same time, getting as many things ready for our leg home as I can. Set the pressurisation controller for our flight planned altitude on the way home, load our outbound flight plan, and set the speed bugs for the evening take-off. By the time I have all of this completed, the captain is setting the parking brake, and I complete my shut down flow; EFIS off, TCAS off, Standby attitude indicator caged and off, temperature mode controller off. I tidy up the approach plates, and climb out of the cockpit as the engines are spooling down. I welcome our passengers to Firebag, mentioning to be cautious when they deplane as the ramp is icy today. I escort the passengers inside and head back out to the plane to install the inlet plugs and prop ties.

Walking away from the airplane to the crew bus I pause for a moment to think about our return flight. If the weather continues to behave as it is forecast, there may be a chance we won't make it back into the City with the increases that have been applied to the ILS minimums. No need to worry about that for the time being though, for if what we have encountered this morning is any indication of what lies ahead, the plan and the forecast will likely change a number of times between here and departure.