Position: Inside FONTA; runway 26-Left, KONT (Ontario, Ca.)
Altitude: 1,000 foot radar altitude
Indicated airspeed: 145 knots plus or minus 10
Equipment: A320 V2500 A-5 engines
Pax-on-Board: 150
Airborne... Day one/leg one; three hundred overcast, one-half mile vis, heavy rain, forty degree crosswind.
One thousand boss...
Roger that... Uh, we are stable...
Gotta love this weather. My dispatcher told me the rain was hit or miss at KONT and maybe you'll get there between storms. Yeah, right... I knew instinctively we would arrive in the middle of heavy rain; same mechanism as low fuel equals thunderstorm over airport.
Fi-Fi is punching through light-to-moderate turbulence; auto-thrust is keeping up with the wandering airspeed pointer. I will get rid of auto-thrust when we break out of the clouds; I can handle the surface gusts quicker than digital thrust management.
We have three green gear lights, flaps/slats set to three-quarters, engines stable at 40%... Ready to receive large amounts of Jet-A for the possible escape maneuver out of this mess. We cannot see anything except a fast moving opaque blanket of rain water flowing over the forward windscreens; finger size rivulets whipping back on the side Plexiglas.
Five hundred... Stable... Plus or minus ten...
Lookin' good...
A quick glance outside in our 1:30 and I can see a flashing smear of light ahead... Approach lights baby! The fuselage is cranked nose left in the crosswind.
Out-of-focus runway edge and end identifier lights appear... Gimme some wipers please. The co-pilot reaches overhead and turns the wipers to HI. The blades sling water furiously and noisily, clearing the Plexiglas for a brief moment between wipes, but it is enough. I can see long wind creases on the wet runway; a perfect crosswind indicator. No fancy captain Dave techniques this morning... I am going to plant the mains firmly.
You're hundred above minimums...
OK... Landing...
Minimums...
Auto-thrust OFF... Set thrust levers at 40%. It's five knots above Vref (approach speed); that's OK... A little gust insurance.
Fifty feet...
There is the wind sock; it is fully extended and whipping in the wet wind. Yep, about forty degrees from the left.
Twenty feet...
Increase pitch a bit, but not too much... Six degrees is looking good.
Ten feet...
Thrust levers to idle (quickly); start mashing the right rudder pedal and don't be wimpy about it. Joystick left a bit; easy does it. Don't raise the spoilers with aileron deflection... Time it just right and...
We are down! Fuselage wind angle zero... The main landing gear struts compress as the Electric Jet settles. Perfecto!
Reverse thrust to MAX; spoilers UP; nose gear lowered to the runway. At 100 knots, shined shoes pushing the brakes pedals and don't you dare pump them. Fi-Fi, nose low, puts all her weight on the landing gear and sheds energy. The mist and steam from the cascade vanes appear in my peripheral vision at 90 knots. Ease up at 80 knots before the reverse thrust cloud envelopes the flight deck.
I reach overhead and turn the wipers to LO. Outside, still raining hard... Weather fit for ducks and airline pilots, I guess.
Flaps up... What gate did you say it was? I forgot already...
Ramp personnel are waiting, yellow rain slickers blowing in the wind, red wands pointing at the almost invisible, water covered lead-in line. The co-pilot starts the APU; we are quick-turning. I can feel the wind pushing on the vertical tail fin as I bring her to a stop at crossed wands and set the brakes... APU is ready to take the electrics; both engine master switches OFF and their hot-sections go cold instantly.
Steam...
My heavy leather flight jacket is zipped against the cold rain. The drops are making a hollow splat sound against its skin weathered from millions of air miles... About a 15-20 knot splat. I decide to lean against number one engine cowling and warm my old bones before I continue. Rain drops are hissing into steam against the exhaust cone; brake fans are howling; air conditioning/pressurization packs are ON and wailing inside her belly; it is a sound like nothing else on earth. Streamers of warm air are swirling down here like invisible spirits; they come briefly and then are gone, replaced by wet gusts. I push my ear plugs in a little further... I need wipers on my eyeballs as I continue the post/pre-flight.
Under the tail, I look straight up at the roaring APU. Its exhaust is blasting the rain drops into a foggy plume blown east in the wind. There is something unique about this scene, but I cannot put my finger on it at the moment... Something to think about over Colorado.
I love being down here, even if my pants are getting wet... She is a metal life form. An entity of hydraulics, electricity, pneumatics, and circuit boards. An exotic winged creature of lift, velocity, and thrust.
On the leeward side, I stop between the number four wheel and number two engine for a minute to dry my pant legs in the brake fan heat. The fueler comes into my cozy little alcove and hands me a limp, damp copy of the fuel receipt. My dispatcher ordered 800 gallons of Jet-A... That will bring us up to the required load for the next leg; KLAS (Las Vegas).
It's wet out there...
In the forward galley, the lead flight attendant, a big smile on her face, is handing me paper towels as I walk through door L-1. She tells me captains are not supposed to get wet... Technically correct, but I have a sharp co-pilot and would rather keep him warm and dry. He can get the flight deck ready for the next leg while I work the sympathy angle with a pretty, young flight attendant who thinks pilots are cool. She is still a new hire and will change her opinion in a few months.
Captain, we have a full boat... one fifty and two babys...
The upper and lower red beacons are flashing as the super-tug starts pushing on the nose gear. We are out of here... Thirty-two minute turn in the rain. Not a record, but darn good performance from the Ontario station.
You can start number one...
Turning one...
I ask the co-pilot to throw a match into number one.
Winds are two twenty at fifteen gusting thirty; cleared for take-off runway two six right...
Wipers on HI as the co-pilot advances the thrust levers to max take-off thrust. Fi-Fi gets with the program in the cool, wet weather. The engines are running cool (<500 C) and strong. The co-pilot is holding the joystick forward and into the wind... Perfect. Not too much, or the spoilers will rise on the "up" aileron wing. Not a good thing...
Positive rate... Gear up...
Three hundred feet above the runway and we are on the gauges, or in our case, cathode ray tubes. On the overhead panel, both wipers to OFF. Thank you! The noise level in the cockpit drops 30 decibels. At 1,000 feet above the ground, set climb power and slats/flaps UP.
We better raise the shields...
The co-pilot is correct... Outside air temperature is dropping quickly. Engine heat ON... Wing heat ON. I glance outside at the ice probe and see rime ice forming. The vertical speed is north of 4,000 fpm and she is accelerating. Apparently, Fi-Fi could care less about the icing. Go baby, go...
Where are my Revos?
As usual, I forgot to get my Revos ready. At 18,000 feet the clouds are changing rapidly from dark and foreboding to bright and wispy. A couple of seconds of fast moving blue cracks in the sky and then we break free of the wet undercast. The Electric Jet soars into the cold blue SoCal sky while turning northeast for Lost Wages. This is a busy day... Leg two of three, the third being out to the east coast. We have very little time on the ground. Need to keep her airborne.
We can do that... Now if I can locate my sunglasses.
Life on the Line continues...
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