The day held little promise until the final hour before sunset, when the wind took a noticeable shift to the north, and the heavy scent of the gulf was replaced by something less?pungent. It had rained harder between four and five o?clock than it had anytime in the past five months, but now the line of storms sweeping across the gulf coast was sliding out past the barrier islands and up the coast at the same time ? it promised to be a wet night in Louisiana. I slid the hangar door open and stepped out on the ramp when I heard an airplane engine start somewhere up the line, and was pleasantly surprised to see the four wind socks swinging aimlessly and pointing in different directions without much interest. It appeared that after three lousy days, it was a good evening to fly!
I wasted little time in rolling the big doors open and sliding the RV-6 out to a quiet resting space on the ramp, out of the way. I?ll fly it in the morning, when I have time to go down and fill it with gas. This was a night for the Valkyrie, as I could see a contrast between the dark clouds and retreating rain showers toward the coast, and the glint of sunlight in a clearing line to the northwest. A quick preflight and I was off to the nearest end of the runway for take-off. The tail came up before all the power was in, the cool air beckoning, and we were aloft at the little dip in front of our house, about 500 feet down the runway. As soon as I topped the trees I could see shafts of light piercing the clouds as the setting sun began to light the western sky orange. The bright, clear sky inland intensified the dark clouds in the direction of the sea, but the rain on the radar display showed that it was not as bad as it looked. I decided to run to the coast to catch a little shower ? for I am lazy, and don?t like getting out the wash bucket!
The air was surprisingly smooth considering the violence of the storms that had rolled through the area not so long ago. Lightning was no longer visible anywhere except on the weather display, and was already quite far out over the gulf, yet I picked up the rain showers I wanted before I reached the island of Galveston. Visibility was good to either side as the 200 mph rain washed the bugs and dust off the windshield and wings. I like the sound that rain makes at that speed ? almost a hiss, really, seeming to dissolve more than blow away. I looked out at the wings to see the streaks of dirt rinsing themselves clean off the white of the wings ? it is easy to tell when you are done, because that tell-tail line of mud ahead of the flaps disappears. I like to find a slightly more energetic shaft of precipitation and circle to stay in it for the final rinse, just as a soaring pilot circles in a thermal. One turn, two turns ? the plane is clean, and I punch up ?Direct, Enter? to head back home.
The sunlight is on the field now, as I enter the pattern; deep red as it reflects under the high clouds. I can see halfway to Austin, yet the forecast says it won?t last. The front that pushed through will stall, back up, and torment us for a few more days. If the forecast is correct - which it rarely is in the blustery month of March. But March is nearly over, and the summer will soon arrive, the cool evenings we have enjoyed skittering off until the fall. The RV sparkles as I enter the pattern, cleaner than it would be if I?d gotten out a bucket and sponge. No water drops mar the surface, no tell-tale bits of dirt are left in the crannies. The wheels chirp, the airplane is happy, and the evening is over ? time to put the planes away and hope for that blown forecast to bring a nice morning for a little more aviating. The -6 needs exercise too!
Happy Flying?
Paul
I wasted little time in rolling the big doors open and sliding the RV-6 out to a quiet resting space on the ramp, out of the way. I?ll fly it in the morning, when I have time to go down and fill it with gas. This was a night for the Valkyrie, as I could see a contrast between the dark clouds and retreating rain showers toward the coast, and the glint of sunlight in a clearing line to the northwest. A quick preflight and I was off to the nearest end of the runway for take-off. The tail came up before all the power was in, the cool air beckoning, and we were aloft at the little dip in front of our house, about 500 feet down the runway. As soon as I topped the trees I could see shafts of light piercing the clouds as the setting sun began to light the western sky orange. The bright, clear sky inland intensified the dark clouds in the direction of the sea, but the rain on the radar display showed that it was not as bad as it looked. I decided to run to the coast to catch a little shower ? for I am lazy, and don?t like getting out the wash bucket!
The air was surprisingly smooth considering the violence of the storms that had rolled through the area not so long ago. Lightning was no longer visible anywhere except on the weather display, and was already quite far out over the gulf, yet I picked up the rain showers I wanted before I reached the island of Galveston. Visibility was good to either side as the 200 mph rain washed the bugs and dust off the windshield and wings. I like the sound that rain makes at that speed ? almost a hiss, really, seeming to dissolve more than blow away. I looked out at the wings to see the streaks of dirt rinsing themselves clean off the white of the wings ? it is easy to tell when you are done, because that tell-tail line of mud ahead of the flaps disappears. I like to find a slightly more energetic shaft of precipitation and circle to stay in it for the final rinse, just as a soaring pilot circles in a thermal. One turn, two turns ? the plane is clean, and I punch up ?Direct, Enter? to head back home.
The sunlight is on the field now, as I enter the pattern; deep red as it reflects under the high clouds. I can see halfway to Austin, yet the forecast says it won?t last. The front that pushed through will stall, back up, and torment us for a few more days. If the forecast is correct - which it rarely is in the blustery month of March. But March is nearly over, and the summer will soon arrive, the cool evenings we have enjoyed skittering off until the fall. The RV sparkles as I enter the pattern, cleaner than it would be if I?d gotten out a bucket and sponge. No water drops mar the surface, no tell-tale bits of dirt are left in the crannies. The wheels chirp, the airplane is happy, and the evening is over ? time to put the planes away and hope for that blown forecast to bring a nice morning for a little more aviating. The -6 needs exercise too!
Happy Flying?
Paul
