dhall_polo
Well Known Member
My lovely wife is one of those who feels more a victim of my general aviation hobby than a beneficiary. Oh the stories of marital strife I can tell with planes serving as a wicked ingredient. Not so much these days. Either aliens have taken my wife, or a constant dose of RV is a powerful medicine.
My son graduates from boot camp, and thankfully the US Army likes places in the middle of nowhere, like Fort Leonard, Missouri. This place even features an airport that shares both military and general aviation. Hmmmm. Drive 12 or more hours to the graduation ceremony or fly for 3 hours and land right in the middle of the post? My RV-7 winked and smiled at my her, I swear it.
As I checked the weather today, I surmised that it was a doable VFR trip, but it was not the severe clear day that my wife usually holds out for. There was some colorful stuff on the nexrad between my home base in Atlanta and Fort Leonard, but no impenetrable fronts. Still, I knew I was going to get a chance to expose my wife some interesting VFR/VMC weather. (By "interesting", I mean "interesting and educational" not "dangerous".)
We began our trip below the clouds. The cumulonimbus around Atlanta was a bit too tall for anything over the top, even for the RV. Under would have to suffice. It was beautiful yet bumpy, bouncing along at around 2500'. We experienced some nice and light VFR rain. Rain? That's no good, she thinks. With a calming voice, I pointed out that we could easily see miles ahead and on all sides, and that the rain was little more than occasional mistings that we would pass through quickly. Off to the sides here and there, she also witnessed several rain showers that were much more developed, and she was able to observe the difference.
By the time we got into Alabama, the big stuff was more spread out, which gave me an opportunity for some altitude. We climbed up to 8000' and we were treated to a magnificent 100 mile view of the weather. From this vantage point, we could see the giant monsters off in the distance. It was very comforting to her to compare the nexrad displayed in front of her with the real world outside. We talked about what Nexrad can tell you and what it cannot tell you.
As we got into western Tennessee, we faced our next line of obstacles. There were some cumulo-monsters lying directly on my magenta road to Missouri. For this round, I thought over and around was a good option, but I needed more altitude. I reached behind me and dangled a spaghetti of oxygen lines and cannulas in front of my wife, and the initial reaction was "are you kidding me?" Honey, even at lower altitudes, O2 will make you feel more refreshed and less fatigued. Sold. We ran along for a little while at 10500 with the O2. She was fine, so we climbed up and up. At 16500, I was satisfied that we would be able to circumnavigate worst of the monsters with a minimum of maneuvering through a few cloud canyons. My wife, by now, was fascinated with our view of such awesome power as contained within those thunderstorms, but she could see that we were safe even from this lofty vantage point.
Southern Missouri presented the next VFR/VMC challenge. More monsters on the path. But now a diversion around is too much. There are also some higher altitude MOA's to deal with, and the layers below seemed less broken. Under is my only option. From aloft, I have no idea if "under" will work. If it doesn't, we will have a $100 hamburger somewhere nearby. I descend from on high down through the broken layers. The ceilings proved more than adequate at 3000 feet and the visibility was excellent. There were some showers, but they are easily seen and skirted.
It is always wonderful to see the "ETE" finally tick down to the sub 30 minute mark. I ring up the tower at Fort Leonard. It must be my lucky day as the wall of restricted airspace blocking the approach to Fort Leonard was just opened. Only one obstacle remains: the tower warns me of winds gusting to 22 knots across the runway. Great. OK, honey, this is going to be a bumpy approach, but we'll be fine. I will abort the landing and go around if there is any issue. As we approach the field, the winds picked up to confirm that the tower was not joshing. The big weather system to the west of the field was coming in. I set up for a straight in approach and tested the amount of crab required to maintain the center-line. Dang. I kept it a little fast and only dropped flaps a notch. As I crossed the fence, I added aileron and jammed in the rudder, more - more - more. Left main rolling. Then right. Then the tail settled down. Would you believe the tower complemented a perfect crosswind landing, right there with the wife to hear? I owe that guy five bucks.
All told, the trip was over 3 hours. My wife experienced what it was like to fly over, under, through, and around stuff big enough to show up on radar. She experienced snorting O2 through a cannula at more than 3 miles above solid ground. She filled her camera up with dozens of pictures of thunder-boomers, and she learned quite a bit about how to gleen information from that pricey panel I put together with our money. Finally, she experienced a successful and uneventful trip, and she had a great time. We remarked how awful the drive would have been. The RV winked again, this time at me. I said thanks.
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note: I am instrument rated, so I do have that option. At no point during a VFR flight would I not have multiple VMC "outs", and this flight was no different.
My son graduates from boot camp, and thankfully the US Army likes places in the middle of nowhere, like Fort Leonard, Missouri. This place even features an airport that shares both military and general aviation. Hmmmm. Drive 12 or more hours to the graduation ceremony or fly for 3 hours and land right in the middle of the post? My RV-7 winked and smiled at my her, I swear it.
As I checked the weather today, I surmised that it was a doable VFR trip, but it was not the severe clear day that my wife usually holds out for. There was some colorful stuff on the nexrad between my home base in Atlanta and Fort Leonard, but no impenetrable fronts. Still, I knew I was going to get a chance to expose my wife some interesting VFR/VMC weather. (By "interesting", I mean "interesting and educational" not "dangerous".)
We began our trip below the clouds. The cumulonimbus around Atlanta was a bit too tall for anything over the top, even for the RV. Under would have to suffice. It was beautiful yet bumpy, bouncing along at around 2500'. We experienced some nice and light VFR rain. Rain? That's no good, she thinks. With a calming voice, I pointed out that we could easily see miles ahead and on all sides, and that the rain was little more than occasional mistings that we would pass through quickly. Off to the sides here and there, she also witnessed several rain showers that were much more developed, and she was able to observe the difference.
By the time we got into Alabama, the big stuff was more spread out, which gave me an opportunity for some altitude. We climbed up to 8000' and we were treated to a magnificent 100 mile view of the weather. From this vantage point, we could see the giant monsters off in the distance. It was very comforting to her to compare the nexrad displayed in front of her with the real world outside. We talked about what Nexrad can tell you and what it cannot tell you.
As we got into western Tennessee, we faced our next line of obstacles. There were some cumulo-monsters lying directly on my magenta road to Missouri. For this round, I thought over and around was a good option, but I needed more altitude. I reached behind me and dangled a spaghetti of oxygen lines and cannulas in front of my wife, and the initial reaction was "are you kidding me?" Honey, even at lower altitudes, O2 will make you feel more refreshed and less fatigued. Sold. We ran along for a little while at 10500 with the O2. She was fine, so we climbed up and up. At 16500, I was satisfied that we would be able to circumnavigate worst of the monsters with a minimum of maneuvering through a few cloud canyons. My wife, by now, was fascinated with our view of such awesome power as contained within those thunderstorms, but she could see that we were safe even from this lofty vantage point.
Southern Missouri presented the next VFR/VMC challenge. More monsters on the path. But now a diversion around is too much. There are also some higher altitude MOA's to deal with, and the layers below seemed less broken. Under is my only option. From aloft, I have no idea if "under" will work. If it doesn't, we will have a $100 hamburger somewhere nearby. I descend from on high down through the broken layers. The ceilings proved more than adequate at 3000 feet and the visibility was excellent. There were some showers, but they are easily seen and skirted.
It is always wonderful to see the "ETE" finally tick down to the sub 30 minute mark. I ring up the tower at Fort Leonard. It must be my lucky day as the wall of restricted airspace blocking the approach to Fort Leonard was just opened. Only one obstacle remains: the tower warns me of winds gusting to 22 knots across the runway. Great. OK, honey, this is going to be a bumpy approach, but we'll be fine. I will abort the landing and go around if there is any issue. As we approach the field, the winds picked up to confirm that the tower was not joshing. The big weather system to the west of the field was coming in. I set up for a straight in approach and tested the amount of crab required to maintain the center-line. Dang. I kept it a little fast and only dropped flaps a notch. As I crossed the fence, I added aileron and jammed in the rudder, more - more - more. Left main rolling. Then right. Then the tail settled down. Would you believe the tower complemented a perfect crosswind landing, right there with the wife to hear? I owe that guy five bucks.
All told, the trip was over 3 hours. My wife experienced what it was like to fly over, under, through, and around stuff big enough to show up on radar. She experienced snorting O2 through a cannula at more than 3 miles above solid ground. She filled her camera up with dozens of pictures of thunder-boomers, and she learned quite a bit about how to gleen information from that pricey panel I put together with our money. Finally, she experienced a successful and uneventful trip, and she had a great time. We remarked how awful the drive would have been. The RV winked again, this time at me. I said thanks.
-----------------------
note: I am instrument rated, so I do have that option. At no point during a VFR flight would I not have multiple VMC "outs", and this flight was no different.
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