
Earth disappeared for most of Thursday and Friday during a trip in the Navajo. I was in or above the clouds for the majority of a flight to North Carolina, Minnesota, Missouri, and back November 13th and 14th. The gloomy weather didn't stop the trip from being interesting.
Thursday we flew from Oshkosh to Madison to pick up a patient and dropped him off in New Bern, NC. The trip started in the afternoon and went into the night. I flew the quick hop to Madison. Then I was copilot to North Carolina, and most of that was at night. Starting around West Virginia or so, the ground was completely shrouded in fog, so badly that airports in Virginia were having trouble letting people in. There was a full moon, so for a while we could see mountains sticking up out of the fog as if it were daytime. That was very cool and I wish a camera could have captured it. I'd never seen anything like that. When we landed in North Carolina it was 65 degrees and very humid, unlike home which was in the 40s. We were supposed to come home that night but due to a snafu with arranging refueling as well as the bad weather, we stayed the night.
Friday was a very long day flying back to the Midwest to pick up a patient in Rochester, MN and take her to Springfield, MO. I flew the chunk between NC and MN, and was copilot for the rest.
Leaving New Bern we had to divert quite a bit off course to stay out of thunderstorms. Virginia and West Virginia were still clouded over, and this time we got to see the tops of the mountains in the daylight. (And my camera was in the back of the plane.) We stopped at Dayton Wright Brothers Airport for fuel and flew through a lot of rain west of that. Then we flew through a cold front, battled some ice, and finally came out on top of a seemingly endless cloud deck. Near Rochester we were in the icy clouds once again. During descent, I heard something that sounded like stones hitting the plane, and it dawned on me that was the ice shedding from the propellers. I've always noticed the protective plates on planes like this, and now I know why they're usually missing paint.
The leg from Rochester to Springfield was fine at first when we were above the clouds. The sunset was pretty. We dealt with more ice and some turbulence on this leg, which was mostly spent flying in clouds. Finally we broke out below them and could see the ground for the last bit of the leg. It was very windy on the ground in Springfield just like the last time we were there.
Homeward bound, on the final leg we had to experiment with different altitudes to try and stay out of the ice. Eventually we wound up at 11,000 feet looking down on the moonlit clouds for a while. And then we were back in them again. Hey I like flying, but c'mon, how about some scenery, huh? Oh well. I was dead tired and had surrendered all the flying duties. Somewhere along the way I started feeling symptoms of
hypoxia. To steal a quote from the left-seater, it was "time to take a trip to the oxygen bar." I had never used supplemental oxygen before, and after a few hits from the mask I decided it's the best thing since sliced bread. I have a new respect for altitude.
Just as in my last two trips, I learned a lot on this one, especially more about ice and weather in general. I have a pretty good feel for the plane now and even managed to grease a couple landings. All the instrument flight time is good practice. These trips are becoming addicting.
I flew the red legs: