Bad
Weather means this Lady Pilot was Flying Blonde
Letter to the FAA
Federal Aviation Agency,
Gentlemen:
I was asked to make a written statement concerning certain events that
occurred yesterday. First of all, I would like to thank that very nice FAA
man who took my student pilot's license and told me I wouldn't need it any
more. I guess that means that you're giving me my full-fledged pilot's
license. You should watch that fellow though, after I told him all of this he
seemed quite nervous and his hand was shaking. Anyway, here is what
happened.
The weather had been kind of bad since last week, when I soloed.
But on the day in question I was not about to let low ceilings and
visibility, and a slight freezing drizzle, deter me from another exciting
experience at the controls of an airplane. I was pretty proud of my
accomplishment, and I had invited my neighbor to go with me since I planned to
fly to a town about two hundred miles away where I knew of an excellent
restaurant that served absolutely wonderful charcoaled steaks and the greatest
martinis.
On the way to the airport my neighbor was a little concerned about the weather,
but I assured him once again about the steaks and martinis that we would
soon be enjoying and he seemed much happier.
When we arrived at the airport the freezing drizzle had stopped, as I already
knew from my ground school meteorology it would. There were only a few snow
flakes. I checked the weather and I was assured that it was solid IFR. I
was delighted. But when I talked to the local operator I found out that my
regular airplane, a Piper J-4 Cub, was down for repairs. You could imagine
my disappointment. Just then a friendly, intelligent line boy suggested
that I take another airplane, which I immediately saw was very sleek and
looked much easier to fly.
I think that he called it an Aztec C, also made by Piper. It didn't have a
tail wheel, but I didn't say anything because I was in a hurry. Oh yes, it
had a spare engine for some reason.
We climbed in and I began looking for an ignition switch. Now, I don't want
to get anyone in trouble, but it shouldn't be necessary to get the airplane
manual just to find out how to start an airplane. That's ridiculous. I
never saw so many dials and needles and knobs, handles and switches. As we both
know, confidentially, they have simplified this in the J-4 Cub. I forgot to
mention that I did file a flight plan, and those people were so nice. When
I told them I was flying an Aztec they said it was all right to go direct
via Victor-435, a local superhighway, all the way. These fellows deserve a lot
of credit. They told me a lot of other things too, but everybody has problems
with red tape.
The take-off was one of my best and I carefully left the pattern just the
way the book style says it should be done. The tower operator told me to
contact Departure Control Radar, but that seemed kind of silly since I
knew where I was going. There must have been some kind of emergency
because, all of a sudden, a lot of airline pilots began yelling at the same time
and made such a racket that I just turned off the radio.
You'd think that those professionals would be better trained. Anyway, I
climbed up into a few little fat clouds, cumulus type, at three hundred
feet, but Highway 435 was right under me and, since I knew it was straight
east to the town where we were going to have drinks and dinner, I just went on
up into the solid overcast. After all, it was snowing so hard by now that
it was a waste of time to watch the ground. This was a bad thing to do, I
realized. My neighbor undoubtedly wanted to see the scenery, especially the
mountains all around us, but everybody has to be disappointed sometime and
we pilots have to make the best of it, now don't we?
It was pretty smooth flying and, except for the ice that seemed to be forming
here and there, especially on the windshield, there wasn't much to see. I
will say that I handled the controls quite easily for a pilot with only six
hours. My computer and pencils fell out of my shirt pocket once in a while
but these phenomenon sometime occur I am told. I don't expect you to
believe this, but my pocket watch was standing straight up on its chain.
That was pretty funny and asked my neighbor to look but he just kept
staring ahead with sort of a glassy look in his eyes and I figured that he
was afraid of heights like all non-pilots are. By the way, something
was wrong with the altimeter, it kept winding and unwinding all the time.
Finally, I decided we had flown about long enough to be where we were going,
since I had worked it out on the computer. I am a whiz at that computer,
but something must have gone wrong with it since when I came down to look
for the airport there wasn't anything there except mountains. These weather
people sure had been wrong, too. It was real marginal conditions with a
ceiling of about one hundred feet. You just can't trust anybody in this
business except yourself, right? Why, there were even thunderstorms going
on with occasional bolts of lightning. I decided that my neighbor should
see how beautiful it was and the way it seemed to turn that fog all yellow,
but I guess he was asleep, having gotten over his fear of height, and I didn't
want to wake him up.
Anyway, just then an emergency
occurred because the engine quit. It really didn't worry me since I had
just read the manual and I knew right where the other ignition switch was.
I just fired up the other engine and we kept right on going. This
silliness of having two engines is really a safety factor. If one quits
the other is right there ready to go. Maybe all airplanes should have two
engines. You might look into this.
As pilot in command, I take my responsibilities very seriously. It was
apparent that I would have to go down lower and keep a sharp eye in such
bad weather. I was glad my neighbor was asleep because it was pretty dark
under the clouds and if it hadn't been for the lightning flashes it would
have been hard to navigate. Also, it was hard to read road signs through
the ice on the windshield. Several cars ran off the road when we
passed
and you can sure see what they mean about flying being a lot safer than
driving.
To make a long story short, I
finally spotted an airport that I knew right away was pretty close to town and,
since we were already late for cocktails and dinner, I decided to land
there. It was an Air Force Base so I knew it had plenty of runway and I could
already see a lot of colored lights flashing in the control tower so I knew
that we were welcome. Somebody had
told me that you could always talk to these military people on the
international emergency frequency so I tried it but you wouldn't believe
the language that I heard. These people ought to be straightened out by
somebody and I would like to complain, as a taxpayer.
Evidently there were expecting somebody to come in and land because they
kept talking about some damn stupid son-of-a-***** up in that fog. I wanted
to be helpful, so I landed on the ramp to be out of the way in case that
other fellow needed the runway. A lot of people came running out waving at
us. It was pretty evident that they had never seen an Aztec C before. One
fellow, some General with a pretty nasty temper, was real mad about
something. I tried to explain to him in a reasonable manner that I didn't
think the tower operator should be swearing at that guy up there, but his
face was so red that I think he must have a drinking problem.
Well, that's about all. I caught a bus back home because the weather really got
bad, but my neighbor stayed at the hospital there. He can't make a statement yet
because he's still not awake. Poor fellow, he must have the flu, or
something. Let me know if you need anything else, and please send my new license
airmail, special delivery.
Very, truly yours,
LP
P.S. I also must tell you
that I had to have my hair redone because it started to turn from
"blonde" to "grey" as a result of these nasty men.