Jay Honeck
Touchdown! Greaser!
...is a friend, indeed!
So, Mary and I were away on a rare four-day flying trip. We spent a couple of days in Houston, and then flew over to New Braunfels, for a night in the historic Faust Hotel and Brewery.
I had been watching the prog charts all week, and knew that there would be storms moving in from the West late Sunday, but all the charts were consistently showing a nice, big, VFR window Sunday, so I wasn't concerned. We had a great time at the brewery last night, and enjoyed a great meal and many fine lagers and ales.
The last thing I did before retiring was to check the weather. Uh oh. The prog charts were different, and those storms were now coming in mid-day today, rather than late in the day. Reluctantly, I set my alarm for early this morning.
At 7 AM, the sun was shining, and everything looked great. Then I checked the radar. Holy crap!
The charts had changed again! A line of thunderstorms was now stretching in a line from Southwest to Northeast, moving to the East -- directly into our route of flight. It was clear that if we didn't leave NOW, we weren't going anywhere -- and it wasn't going to clear up for several days. I awakened a very unhappy wife, and we were out the door and in the cab in less than 30 minutes.
By the time we got to the airport, things were already falling apart. Visibility was getting scuzzy, the ceiling was dropping, and the skies to the Southwest were ominously darkening. One look at the radar confirmed our worst fears -- the line was solidifying, moving more quickly than predicted -- and building in from behind.
I posted this on Facebook, and within two minutes this group's very own David White (owner of "White Lightning") responded that we could move Atlas into his (now vacant) hail shed at New Braunfels, and that he would be at the airport in 20 minutes to help! Wow!
David was true to his word. We moved Atlas under cover, tied him down, and then let David take us out to brunch at a favorite restaurant, our treat. We enjoyed a relaxing hour, as the weather outside completely deteriorated.
What a great thing it is, to be part of this piloting fraternity/sorority we all belong to. Here we are, stuck far from home, in a strange town, and a friend from Pilots of America comes to our rescue! Thanks again, David!
We rented a car and made the long, horrible, 200 mile drive back to the island in storms that dumped an absolutely incredible amount of rain, with lightning to match.
This is what we saw all the way -- and why we opted not to fly today!
So, Mary and I were away on a rare four-day flying trip. We spent a couple of days in Houston, and then flew over to New Braunfels, for a night in the historic Faust Hotel and Brewery.
I had been watching the prog charts all week, and knew that there would be storms moving in from the West late Sunday, but all the charts were consistently showing a nice, big, VFR window Sunday, so I wasn't concerned. We had a great time at the brewery last night, and enjoyed a great meal and many fine lagers and ales.
The last thing I did before retiring was to check the weather. Uh oh. The prog charts were different, and those storms were now coming in mid-day today, rather than late in the day. Reluctantly, I set my alarm for early this morning.
At 7 AM, the sun was shining, and everything looked great. Then I checked the radar. Holy crap!
The charts had changed again! A line of thunderstorms was now stretching in a line from Southwest to Northeast, moving to the East -- directly into our route of flight. It was clear that if we didn't leave NOW, we weren't going anywhere -- and it wasn't going to clear up for several days. I awakened a very unhappy wife, and we were out the door and in the cab in less than 30 minutes.
By the time we got to the airport, things were already falling apart. Visibility was getting scuzzy, the ceiling was dropping, and the skies to the Southwest were ominously darkening. One look at the radar confirmed our worst fears -- the line was solidifying, moving more quickly than predicted -- and building in from behind.
I posted this on Facebook, and within two minutes this group's very own David White (owner of "White Lightning") responded that we could move Atlas into his (now vacant) hail shed at New Braunfels, and that he would be at the airport in 20 minutes to help! Wow!
David was true to his word. We moved Atlas under cover, tied him down, and then let David take us out to brunch at a favorite restaurant, our treat. We enjoyed a relaxing hour, as the weather outside completely deteriorated.
What a great thing it is, to be part of this piloting fraternity/sorority we all belong to. Here we are, stuck far from home, in a strange town, and a friend from Pilots of America comes to our rescue! Thanks again, David!
We rented a car and made the long, horrible, 200 mile drive back to the island in storms that dumped an absolutely incredible amount of rain, with lightning to match.
This is what we saw all the way -- and why we opted not to fly today!