In consideration of the Do point

Like so many long-time southerners, I’ve become quite susceptible to whining and crying about the brutality of winter weather. It’s not pretty.

There is irony in that because, also like so many southerners, I was raised predominantly in the north. As a younger dude I even got frisky enough to camp out in those brisk winter conditions. Waking up to below zero temperatures or a heap of snow sagging my tent poles to their limit can cause a boy to reconsider his plan.

I’ve seen my share of sub-zero temperatures, sleet, hail, snow, and bitter wind. So I stopped my wandering and settled in central Florida. Which is not the south in any real sense of the term, except for the weather. It’s better here. For me, anyway.

I don’t care to experience a real winter ever again. Not if I can avoid it. That’s for someone else. Someone who likes snow skiing, skating on frozen ponds, and presumably owns a snowblower. I’ll take the sunshine and warmer temperatures of a winter in the south, thank you.

There is a trade-off to accept in that deal, of course. I also have to accept the heat and humidity of summer, which can be considerable.

The older I get the less likely I am to go outside to participate in any serious physical activity between the hours of noon and 4 p.m. in the summer. Walking to the mailbox is about my limit. Anything more than that risks adverse health effects I’d just as soon avoid for the time being.

This past Saturday was forecast to be a beautiful example of central Florida winter. Life in my neighborhood couldn’t be better. Temperatures were projected to start out in the low 50s, rising blissfully into the 70s by the afternoon. The skies would be clear as could be with hardly a cloud in sight. Winds would be light, as well. Starting out calm, they weren’t expected to rise above 9 knots all day, breezing in from the east.

I was scheduled to fly with a young girl who has ambitions to be an airline pilot. Her choice was to fly in the afternoon. My preference is usually to fly in the morning. Generally, the winds are lighter, the air is smoother, and if I get my morning dose of coffee just right, I might even be in a good mood.

As it turned out my young prospective flier had a transportation challenge that wouldn’t allow her to get out to the airport until 2 p.m. That minor glitch turned out to be beneficial. By late morning the weather was just as picture perfect, postcard ready as it was forecast to be. Hours earlier as the sun came over the horizon, that wasn’t the case.

As any studious flight student learns, all weather is a result of the uneven heating of the earth’s surface. That includes hurricanes, typhoons, tornadoes, tropical depressions, ridges, troughs, high pressure systems, and low.

This past Saturday, in my neighborhood, that heating of the earth combined with the chill of the air and the amount of water vapor stored up in that air to create a weather phenomenon known as fog. Widespread fog that cut visibility down to one-quarter mile.

That’s not nearly enough to fly safely. But it is a great reminder that I, along with all other pilots, should never lose sight of the Do point. Not to be confused with the Dew point, which played such a prevalent role in the creation of that foggy morning.

I prefer morning flights because, in general, the weather is more conducive to me enjoying the experience. Afternoon flights here in the sun belt can be downright annoying. Thermals cause our little aircraft to bounce around like toy boats on the surf. In a worst-case scenario that can cause passengers and students to feel unwell. A situation I have always tried to avoid.

Then again, morning flights are not guaranteed to be lovely dashes skyward without a care in the world. Here in the south our concern is that vexing fog. Up north it might be frost on the airframe. Or perhaps it’s the combination of visible moisture in the form of low clouds and a freezing level that goes to the ground.

This is the Do point. Again, not to be confused with the Dew point, which pertains to the weather. The first relates to a pilot’s ability, even responsibility, to do something. To make a decision that’s rooted in safety. An action that is based on solid, conservative thought processes designed to keep ourselves, our passengers, and the aircraft safe from harm.

Had my young friend not had a transportation problem, I undoubtedly would have suggested we fly in the morning. Which would have been wonderful. That schedule would have given us hours to sit and chat about our plans for the day. We would have been grounded until the fog lifted, however. An inconvenience to be sure. But an intentional inconvenience brought about by this pilot’s willingness to accept reality, embrace the Do point, and make a Go/No-Go decision we can both live with.

This idea of a Do point may seem flippant or a bit of clever wordplay. I can assure you it is neither. The Do point is reached when a pilot has to make a decision. Perhaps, an unwelcome decision that disappoints passengers or family waiting patiently for your arrival at the destination.

It is our role to consider the possibilities, the probabilities, and play with a wide margin of safety in all the decisions we make. That’s true on the ground and in the air. Accepting the reality of the Do point has saved my bacon more than once. So, I continue to embrace it. I hope you always will, as well.