Clouds

Clouds often look all puffy, fluffy, and soft. They are none of those things. 

I did my TTA-HWY flight this morning for the first time in three weeks. Two weeks ago, I was too sick to attend church and stayed home. Last week, I was still coughing, fighting residual congestion and sinus drainage, and didn’t want to fight IMC the entire way at less than 100% health. So I drove.

Clouds along my route were scattered to broken between 3,500 and 5,000 feet. Tops 9,000+. My assigned altitude was 5,000. That had me in and out of clouds for a good chunk of the flight until Potomac dropped me to 3,000 as I neared HWY. Clear air was smooth. Hit a cloud, and the AI lost its mind. The wings would start rocking, and keeping it pointed sort-of in the right direction was the best I could do. Level pitch could result in a 470 foot-per-minute climb or a 340 foot-per-minute descent depending on whether there was an updraft or a downdraft. Which could switch inside the same cloud. As soon as I came out of the other side, smooth air returned and I fixed any heading and altitude excursions caused by the guts of the nice, puffy cloud. Lather, rinse, repeat for a hundred miles.

I’m thankful that the approach was in clear and relatively smooth air. I’d have hated to try to fly a precision approach while the Tomahawk tried to impersonate a kite.