The grey and the blue ... and more

I've written before about weather having an effect on flying. I mean, duh, of course. But aside from the obvious, there are seemingly an infinite number of more subtle effects the weather can have on being up in the air. The effect may very well be more on the psyche than anything else. No matter how you describe it, there seems to be something ... more.

Last Sunday was a dreary, cloudy, misty, and rainy one. Surely, I thought, mother nature was messing with me again and I wouldn't be able to fly. Fortunately, however, the clouds were up at around 8000 ft and the rain was light. It was just at the edge of being too windy but I was able to fly regardless. I flew from Charlottesville out to Orange and then out to Lousia. The last two are smaller air fields about 10-15 minutes away by plane. I hadn't flown in a while so my chops were a wee bit rusty. The wind trying to blow me off course didn't help either. But all in all I managed to get the job done. My many years of playing video games seems to have left me with exceptional map reading skills, so finding the airports wasn't so bad. Figuring out what approach pattern to use and set up for scrambled my brain a bit as the process isn't quite intuitive to me, yet. Runways are numbered after their 360 degree coordinates on a compass, rounded up to the nearest tenth. For some odd reason, I had a bit of trouble putting together the direction of the runway I needed to use as well as remembering what runways were available. I really need a knee board to help out with logistics like that.

While out at Orange I had the good fortune to stumble upon a bunch of parachute jumpers. They announce on the public frequency a countdown to when they're going to jump. Just as I landed, they all did. I looked up and saw about a dozen chutes opening ... pretty amazing. Made me wish, however, that I had a paintball gun mounted on top of my plane so I could go sky hunting. The guys looked like they really knew what they were doing as they came down at steep angles using airfoil parachutes, landing exactly on spot. Shane told me they have massive parties out at their hangar. I responded asking if we really needed to fly back so soon?

My landings overall weren't stellar at either airport. Part of this was due to my semi rusty chops and the rest was a hefty crosswind that seemed determined to make my life difficult.

Sunday's lesson stood in stark contrast to this past Tuesday's. It was a picture perfect day and I had made up my mind to really bring my A game, even preparing a bit with some book time beforehand. Well, the fates aligned and it made for a spectacular lesson. We took off from CHO and headed to the Northeast practice area where I recovered from a few stalls and executed some steep angle turns. This is where those more subtle aspects of weather on flight start to come in ... maybe not just weather perhaps ... praxis might be a better term.


Steep angle turns in the past have been somewhat of a challenge for me. Turning the plane at 45 degrees presents a number of issues. First of all, 45 degrees is half way between level and 90 degrees. So in a small sense there is a feeling of "falling over" down into the center of the turn. Similarly, that steep a bank angle generates more noticeable g forces on your body. Keeping your eyes outside the plane while rapidly glancing at your controls can be a bit disorienting as a result.


Well, I had no such problems this past Tuesday. In fact, I was able to really enjoy making the plane do what I wanted it to do. I now have the internal sense and knowledge that no, the plane isn't going to roll over and fall out of the sky. Nor are the g forces a problem for me any longer. In fact, they're a bonus prize when the maneuver is executed correctly. There's something about leaning the plane heavy into a turn. It's more of an angle. It's more of a turn. It's more cowbell. It's just ... more.

So as I was doing ... more ... so was mother nature. The sun was starting to go down in the sky. Shadows were getting longer. The green of Spring was reflecting a particularly unique shade, with just the tiniest hints of blue, red and purple. The sky was a deep blue that only the sky can be. You might say that mid Spring is the result of nature practicing her craft. Things start out new and fresh then get the refinements of rain, sun and time. It's fun doing ... more ... with mother nature. She makes an excellent practice partner when she's in a good mood.

After our turns and fun, I came back to CHO for some landings. First was almost perfect. So was the second. Then, for fun, as I came in for my third landing Shane cut the engine power on me. "Now what are you gonna do?" The idea of course was to simulate engine failure. I had read up on what to do and was feeling my A game coming on. As I got very near the runway, Shane told me I could use engine power if I needed it. I responded, "I don't need it." and had another almost perfect landing. I'm so cool.

The moral of the story, it would seem, is that flying on warm, bright, sunny Spring days with clear blue skies is much more rewarding than on days with clouds, rain, chill and wind. I guess it's true what my friend Leeroy from Nashville says. I'm just a damn blue bastard.