Beauty and the Beast

It was a gorgeous Fall day here in central Virginia, 70 degrees, crisp and sunny with a gentle breeze. This was such a stark contrast to the dreary rain of yesterday. I was concerned last night as I've been trying very hard to fly at least twice per week as I wrap up my flight training and focus more on preparing for my written test. It's important to keep those chops current. Novice Jedi magic grows weak if you don't practice regularly. Bad weather would have been an annoying monkey wrench.

The lovely sunshine and puffy clouds took some time to make their appearance today. So I rescheduled my flight twice, from 11am to noon then finally to 2pm. At around 1pm the weather seemed near ideal. As usual, I checked the weather for CHO and surrounding airports. Nothing serious was on the horizon. I was really looking forward to flying on such a spectacular day.

After making my ritual pit stop at the nearby Autozone for touch up paint and bug remover (I keep my plane as clean as possible) I proceeded happily up to the airport. When I arrived, I checked the weather again. Winds were 270 at 6. That means they were blowing from a compass heading of 270 degrees (West) at 6 knots. This isn't completely calm but within my ability. So I proceeded to taxi out to the runway still very excited to fly.

Pilots use several memory tricks to help keep the massive amount of information correct, and quickly at hand. Right before taking off I remind myself of a few key things to check with the phrase, "Lights, camera, action!" The action of course is the application of full throttle. So down the runway I went, properly compensating for the crosswind component of the breeze. The sun was shining. The puffy white clouds were smiling down upon me. The blue sky above appeared to be basking it its own deep beauty.

No sooner did my wheels leave the safety of sweet mother earth when a gust of wind made its presence known. "Holy shit!" a little voice inside my head erupted. "Ok, calm down." another voice replied. It's not uncommon for there to be some bumps on takeoff. Then the control tower announced, "Winds 270 at 12." "Holy shit!" again. They had doubled in strength and were having lots of fun bouncing my plane all over the place, making full use of all three axes. I called the tower to let them know it was too windy and I was coming down.

Facing the specter of death is sometimes like being cut very quickly by a razor sharp knife or pierced by an infinitely small, yet incredibly powerful, laser. It happens in a flash but like it or not you're now bleeding profusely. The blood in this case is adrenaline. Clearly, it's a reflex reaction my monkey brain has inherited from millions of years of evolution. Generally, I'm sure it works well to keep me alive and encourage me to avoid doing foolish things. But up in the air, in a cockpit where you can't just step out, pull over, or press pause, it serves little purpose. In fact it can become a lethal enemy. So today I became quite proficient at (among other things) putting that little voice back it its box very, very quickly. It, however, appeared to retain occasional control (ie., shaking) of my left leg.

My first landing attempt was a bust. With full 30 degrees of flaps I wasn't able to get the plane down due to the headwind component. Things were way too bouncy for me to try and really force the nose over and land in an unusual attitude, likely with far too much speed. Even worse, I was having a very tough time keeping the plane lined up over the runway as the wind was winning the little tug of war over which lateral direction I was moving. So I called the tower and told them I was going around to set up for another attempt. When in doubt, go around. No shame in that. But man, I really wanted out of that plane.

As all this was happening, I overheard another pilot up in the air struggling with the same issue. He had already tried several times to land. In fact, I saw him try to land while I was taxiing. He was still at it. Granted, his plane was smaller and much more difficult to maneuver in wind than mine. But the fact that he was asking for weather information at nearby airports elevated my level of concern. If that weren't enough, the tower then announced, "Wind 280 at 14, gusting to 20. "Holy frrrrreaking shit!."

A useful motto in flying is, "Do it different." Basically, since my first landing attempt didn't work, I needed to try something different. So I set up the plane a bit West of the runway. In case my efforts to compensate for crosswind were insufficient, I'd at least be blown in the right direction. That part of the plan worked. But once again, I wasn't able to get the plane down to an acceptable altitude in time. So I went around again.

This time *I* asked for wind information at nearby Lousia (LKU) airport. I really didn't want to fly out there and risk whatever turbulence lay between but I needed to consider the options. Winds were 230 at 3 out at LKU. Ok, I thought, if I can't get down on this attempt I'd need to head over there. It would be a pain but it would be much safer in theory. LKU, however, uses an automated weather system. There's no control tower. So the wind that had just picked up might have very well decided to follow me like a giant, deadly, puppy rottweiler. Worse still, I may not have found out about it on the radio until after it actually arrived giving it ample time to bite me in the ass.

Besides, I wanted to land. I really wanted to land. In fact, I don't think I've ever wanted to land so badly in my entire life. I wanted to park the plane and run to a nearby bar for a drink. I wanted to go home. I wanted to GET ON THE GROUND right now.

So I bucked up. It's not like I have absolutely no practice or knowledge of what to do in this kind of situation. I decided I'd only use 20 degrees of flaps, which would give me less lift. It worked. I was finally coming down. The VASI lights indicated a proper approach. That sounds all fine and well except that the wind was continuing to play with me, trying to make me wet my pants or worse. I fought back with as much crosswind correction as I could muster. But it's not easy landing a plane tilted sideways 20 degrees. Nor is it very ... um ... comforting.

The runway passed beneath, I entered ground effect and the plane did its normal float. I had to fish a bit for the flare, but finally managed to get the plane on the ground without breaking anything on the aircraft or myself. Insert a big sigh of relief right here. Funny, even hours later, I can still recall the feeling of that 1/10000th of a second of terror. How potent a moment.

Charlottesville remains such an ideal place to learn to fly. The manned control tower, wind socks, real time weather updates, VASI lights, long, relatively wide runway, and perhaps a dozen other things all made my experience today that much less threatening. I suspect they also made it much more safe.

My wrestling match with mother nature lately has mainly been with rain, clouds and storms. It's been a long time since wind alone was even an issue. Well, lesson learned. Wind is far more dangerous and frightening particularly when you don't see it. On such a gorgeous day looks can definitely be deceiving.

Time for that drink now...