Friday, December 2, 2011

Day 15 - Cloud Busting

In light airplanes, a pilot loses most of his visual perspective a few hundred feet after takeoff.  As the ground recedes, so does the primary reference point to judge relative motion.  Because light airplanes do not typically travel very fast, the world begins to slow down, and other than radio chatter and the noise of the engine, forward progress and motion happen at a very relaxed pace.

Clouds are highly respected in aviation. Thunderstorms or "thunder boomers" pack tremendous force and can literally break even the strongest of airplanes.  All pilots give thunderstorms wide berth and light airplane pilots in particular, because dangerous conditions, including turbulence and hail, can be found many miles away from the actual cloud.  Twenty miles is often mentioned as the rule of thumb for safe separation and it can be more with severe weather systems.

There are also clouds that appear on clear, sunny days, often as wispy translucent cotton balls.  Sometimes, they congregate in an organized or unorganized pack across the sky and speak to anyone who cares to listen about upcoming changes in the weather.  Other days, just a handful of shy clouds make their appearance and disappear almost as fast as they come.  Unlike their big brother cumulonimbus (thunderstorm) clouds, these cumulus clouds contain no malice and solely mark a bit of moisture in an otherwise dry sky.

Through training and FAA mandates, pilots generally keep away from all clouds, even the thin, wispy ones. Sometimes, though, on a clear day, with a few translucent clouds, that little mischievous voice that resides in all of us pops up with the suggestion to "bust" a little cloud.  With limited perception of speed and motion and a small cloud, it is surprisingly easy to miss.  After identifying a target and aiming the aircraft,  nothing seems to happen for what can be a very long time depending on how far away the pilot starts the process.  There is no noticeable growth or any other indication that the distance between cloud and airplane is shrinking.  Altitude is equally hard to judge.  So the pilot tools along, making minor corrections to try to center the cloud in front of the airplane, and waits.

You make your money in the last four of five seconds of the game.  The transition from none to complete perception happens with astonishing rapidity.  One second, the pilot senses no motion and observes a small puffy cloud in his windscreen.  In the next instant, the pilot perceives that he is hurtling through the air at 150 mph and about to crash into the stationary object that is rapidly dominating his view.  Body and brain tense, knowledge fighting perception.  A quick flash of white, maybe a small bump and then there is no motion again, only the drone of an engine and a clear blue sky.

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