The wind will blow

For a general aviation pilot, one of the great advantages to living in Florida is the famously fabulous weather.

But postcards and beachfront car commercials don’t tell the whole story.

In truth, our weather is complex. While the sun shines and the winds are mild much of the time, powerful thunderstorms are often lurking in the distance. Sometimes, that distance is less than a smart pilot would be comfortable with.

Of course, that is true of most weather systems in most parts of the world.

When I flew in the Northeast, one of my biggest concerns during the winter months was icing. Not so much icing of the runways or the windshield of my car. No, my worry was rooted in the very real possibility of picking up ice on the airframe. Ice I had no tools to prevent. Ice I could not shake loose once it formed.

Ice worries me. Not so much here in Florida where it rarely exists in nature. But when I head north, I check temperatures, precipitation, and cloud cover with an eye set to spot a whole different set of issues than might present themselves here in my home state. 

A friend I often work with recently earned his private pilot certificate. As with anyone who achieves that goal, he is justifiably proud of his success. Thankfully, also like many who tuck that little piece of plastic into their wallet, he is very much aware that his experience level is low. And lack of experience can be…problematic at times.

Confidence is key. That’s true in all of life’s endeavors. Whether you’re rolling over your 401K into an IRA after retirement or replacing the worn-out water pump in your daily driver, it’s important to have the confidence to know that you can do the job well. No one wants to see their life savings plummet two weeks after selecting an investment portfolio, or a big green puddle of coolant as you back out of the driveway.

Preflight planning requires pilots to bring all their experience and knowledge to the task. Unfortunately, my friend who has fewer than 50 hours in his logbook doesn’t have a lot of experience to call upon when making decisions.

On the upside, he’s a newly certificated pilot. He’s as sharp and up to date on the mechanics of planning a flight as he will likely ever be. It works in his favor that he hasn’t had the time or been exposed to enough sloppy pilots to develop bad habits. To skip steps. To simply look at the sky and say to himself, “It’s just a local flight. I can probably handle this.”

Regardless of whether “this” refers to winds, or low ceilings, or the freezing level, the word “probably” is a big red flag standing straight out at attention. “Probably” should never have a place in your flight planning process.

I was working in the hangar with a half dozen teenagers broken in two groups. One cluster of them was tasked with building shelves to store the parts belonging to the two airplanes they’re beginning to restore. The other cohort was focused on pulling the floorboards from a Piper Cub — a task that seems eminently simple and straightforward, until you are faced with the chore of actually doing it.

My friend was standing in the hangar’s open doorway talking to a young man I didn’t recognize. Neither of them looked particularly happy. My friend waved me over.

“Would you fly in this wind?” he asked. 

That’s a reasonable question that deserves a considered answer. And although I often urge pilots and student pilots to develop their own set of personal minimums to follow, my friend is so new to the role of PIC he finds comfort in asking for input from others when making decisions. I understand that. 

I glanced in the direction of the windsock. The cone was completely horizontal with no detectable sagging along its length. That gave me a clue. Fishing a grubby hand into my pocket I retrieved my phone and confirmed the winds were 20 gusting to 25 and not remotely in line with the runways. 

I fly a Cessna 152. My friend was booked to fly a Cherokee. Light, capable aircraft. But not aircraft that are prone to a comfortable ride under those conditions.

“Not a chance,” I answered. 

The look on his face can best be described as one of relief. The new PIC replied, “That’s what I told him,” gesturing to the young man who was hoping to fly that day, “but as long as you’re here I wanted to check and see what you thought.”

The airport was fairly quiet that morning, although a half dozen aircraft did take off, departing the area. They did it with high, gusting winds and a low broken layer of clouds. A scenario that does nothing to influence me, but might give a new pilot, an inexperienced pilot, an insecure pilot the sense that he or she should fly, because everybody else is.

Negative peer pressure can cause new pilots and experienced pilots to do dumb things. Positive peer pressure can be a great motivator for a group of teenagers who are undertaking a project that was beyond their imagination just a few months ago. The influence of others can be a valuable tool or an incitement to unsafe practices. It is important that each of us thinks for ourselves, validates our thought practices, and stands firm for safety.

The wind will blow, but our willingness to launch should not be as affected as that windsock, picking any direction it is pushed in with no regard for the consequences. 

As PIC our role is to push back, intellectually at least. For our own safety. For the safety of our passengers. For the continued survival of the industry and aeronautical activities we love so well.