Short-field Citation

It’s a warm summer morning, and even though the air-conditioning system in the Cessna Citation M2 keeps the cockpit cool, my palms are getting sweaty. Billy Mitchell Airport in Hatteras, North Carolina, is just 3,002 feet long and 75 feet wide—tiny by corporate jet standards—and the approach end of Runway 25 is flanked by 35-foot-tall sand dunes topped with scrub brush.

I’m pilot in command with the new airplane’s owner, Shep McKenney, in the right seat. I feel well prepared, but there’s also pressure to perform. 

McKenney is an instrument-rated private pilot, and he bought the M2 because it’s one of the few jets that can safely operate at this airport. He takes the M2 all over the country from his home airport in coastal Maryland, but Hatteras is the place he adores. His childhood memories run deep here, and he’s been coming to the shores of the Outer Banks by one means or another his entire 82-year life.  

Surface winds are reported out of the southwest at about 10 knots with gusts in the mid-teens—and the headwind is a blessing because it slows the Citation’s ground speed during approach and significantly shortens the landing roll. The airplane is lightly loaded with just the two of us on board, and the minimum amount of fuel required to reach our destination and then make the 40-minute flight back to our starting point in Maryland with reserves. 

As the indicated airspeed on the Garmin G3000 display drops below 200 knots, I set the flap handle to Approach, or 15 degrees, and maneuver for a five-mile final approach to the nontowered airport. I lower the landing gear, deploy landing flaps (35 degrees), and a glance at the altitude tape shows 1,500 feet. 

There are no visual approach slope indicator (VASI) lights at this airport, but fortunately for me, the mental math is easy. A 3-degree descent angle means coming down about 300 feet per nautical mile, so 1,500 feet msl at five miles is on target for a sea-level runway. The picture out the windshield also looks good, and that gives me a reassuring sense of TLAR (or “that looks about right”). 

But two questions keep coming to mind. “How did I get here?” and “Is this really a good idea?” 

Mission possible 

As a turbine aircraft manager and professional pilot, my first task with prospective aircraft owners is accurately defining their mission. 

When I met McKenney in late 2018, an essential part of his mission was making regular trips to Billy Mitchell Airport. That kind of short-field capability was a requirement I’d never heard from any other prospective jet owner. The normal jet considerations of speed, range, payload, and operating costs were all secondary to coming and going from this 3,000-foot-long airstrip. 

McKenney calls going to Hatteras his “escape to happiness.” Any airplane he owned had to be able to reliably get in and out of there, and he was willing to give up some high-speed and high-altitude performance to do it. 

That short-field capability tipped the balance in favor of the M2, a straight-wing jet with trailing link landing gear and anti-skid brakes. And, honestly, the Garmin G3000 avionics suite was a plus, too. 

A quick look into the M2 airplane flight manual shows takeoff and landing distances at the sea-level airfields are possible in less than 3,000 feet under a wide range of atmospheric conditions. At its maximum landing weight of 9,900 pounds, a normal landing (flaps at 35 degrees, anti-ice systems off, and no wind) can be done in less than 3,000 feet in temperatures from negative 25 degrees Celsius (2,350 feet) all the way to 54 degrees C (2,920 feet). Approach and reference speeds at maximum landing weight are 116 KIAS and 109 KIAS respectively.  

Dry runway takeoffs at sea level and normal aircraft settings (15 degrees flaps and anti-ice systems off) could be made at maximum weight in less than 3,000 feet in temperatures up to 25 degrees C. 

By lightening the airplane’s load, taking advantage of coastal Carolina’s consistent wind patterns and moderate air temperatures, and avoiding wet runways and other adverse conditions, the safety margins seemed adequate. 

McKenney has a legal/entrepreneurial background and thoroughly understands risk-management strategies. Operating at Hatteras would require extra planning and schedule flexibility. A wet runway, extreme heat, or winds that were variable in direction were no-go items, and we’d only arrive at or depart from Hatteras in daylight. (The airport opens 30 minutes before sunrise and closes 30 minutes after sunset.) Billy Mitchell Airport has RNAV approaches to Runways 7 and 25, but IFR conditions there often mean rain and wet pavement, so we’d adjust our schedules to arrive and depart under visual flight conditions. 

Before flying to Hatteras, however, I had to refine my own technique in the M2 and satisfy myself that book performance numbers were both correct and achievable. That meant practicing at my home airport in Hagerstown, Maryland, which has both a 7,000-foot main runway (9/27) as well as a crosswind runway (2/20) that’s 3,160 feet long and provides a meaningful approximation of the slightly shorter and narrower coastal strip at Billy Mitchell Field. 

But some of the hazards at the Outer Banks are impossible to replicate. Billy Mitchell Airport is located in a national park and there are often deer on or near the runway, as well as flocks of seagulls, pelicans, and other large seabirds that require constant vigilance to avoid. 

Getting real 

The M2 feels both steady and responsive in the landing configuration as I slow to 115 KIAS two miles from the runway threshold. I’m at the recommended approach speed and the pre-landing checklist is complete. But for the last mile, I’ll slow the airplane even more. 

Today’s reference speed is 105 KIAS, and the angle-of-attack indexer on the windshield becomes central in my scan. The “green donut” flickers as the airplane decelerates, and then turns solid green. I make small but almost constant pitch and power adjustments to keep the green light solid. 

The airplane seems to settle into a groove on short final. Pitch attitude is about 5 degrees nose up, engine power is about 60 percent, airspeed is steady at 105 KIAS, and the rate of descent is about 600 feet per minute. There are no fixed-distance markers or aiming points on the runway. But I’ve already decided that if all three wheels aren’t down in the first third of the runway, I’ll go around.  

The sight of this relatively short, narrow airstrip is still a gut check.Unlike other jet landings in which pilots typically pull the power levers to idle once landing is assured, I hold what I’ve got all the way into ground effect. Then I chop the power and flare slightly knowing that my slow indicated airspeed, moderate angle of attack, and draggy configuration will result in almost no float. 

The stick shaker vibrates just before the main wheels touch down about 200 feet beyond the threshold, and I deploy ground flaps (60 degrees plus spoilers) as the nose gear drops to the pavement. The airplane’s weight shifts instantly to the wheels and moderate braking brings the airplane to walking speed with about 800 feet of runway remaining. 

That first approach and landing at Billy Mitchell Airport in 2019 delivered real-world performance in line with book expectations—and that’s continued to hold true during countless return trips there over the past five years. 

McKenney and I carefully plan each flight to his favorite destination, and we stack the deck in our favor by carrying light loads and adjusting our schedules to take advantage of favorable weather conditions. There have been a couple go-arounds because of deer on the runway, but those aren’t a surprise and we’ve come to regard them as part of this airport’s charm. 

After many weeks and sometimes months of flying off gigantic runways at big-city airports with massive amounts of real estate, the sight of this relatively short, narrow airstrip is still a gut check. But I welcome the challenge of flying there because of the precision the short, scenic field demands. 

Billy Mitchell Airport is well within the M2’s capabilities, and it’s a place I look forward to returning to with anticipation—not trepidation.   Bryan Adamez, founder of V1 Aeronautics, is a CFII with CE-510S, CE-525S, and DA-50 type ratings.