Let's Talk About the Weather


Summer weather was good to us most of the time. Thunderstorms were an issue, of course. We attempted to out-climb one particularly large cloud, and our flight attendant needed help pushing the galley cart "uphill" against the steep deck angle. Passengers were giving the cart a push as she dragged it past.

While turbulence rarely ever scares me, there were a couple occasions where I pitied our poor passengers. We flew into one cloud that looked ordinary enough, and the plane's attitude indicators abruptly showed a 30-degree bank to the right -- and more alarmingly, descending at 1000 feet-per-minute. The captain was Pilot-Flying, and he had his hand hovering over the autopilot disconnect while we waited to see if the computer could out-fly the downdraft. It did, but it was spooky for a few minutes there.

When winter hit, it was as suddent and shocking as I expected it to be. We departed Vancouver in 20-degree sunny conditions, and went to Fort St. John where it was -6 and snowing. Ouch. I'm not dressed for this.

The most difficult approaches I've done lately were in the dark. The time change of Daylight Saving suddenly brought a whole lot of night flying that I wasn't getting over the summer. Anyone who knows me and has flown with me knows that night flying is my absolute favourite thing; but, there's nothing fun about descending into the dark, in a blowing snowstorm, being told by the flight service specialist on the ground that he can barely see the runway from his window.

On three occasions, we have had to hold up at altitude waiting to see if the bad weather would clear, and ended up turning back to Vancouver. Three different times, we commenced the approach knowing the chances of seeing the runway were slim-to-none, and ended up catching sight of the lights at the last possible minute. One of these was into nasty freezing fog in Cranbrook with a particularly uncooperative captain. From 1,000 down, we could see the reflection of the runway strobe lights flashing off the grey murk, but no runway. At the last possible second, I had to decide whether to land or not. By the time I put the plane down and we got to the gate, my hands were shaking. There was no reason for it; if the runway hadn't been visible, we would have missed and gone back to Vancouver. No big deal... right?

The one thing I have never done in the real aircraft is a missed approach. I am dreading it to some degree. Thankfully the 6-month simulator interval keeps my mind fresh on how to do it. I'm  just not looking forward to it.

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