Pilots

Somehow the ice that is building into a milk-colored miniature mountain range on the leading edge of the wing seems appropriate, if not reassuring. My commuter flight to Burlington, Vermont, after all, is whisking me to a meeting with Robert (Bob) Buck, renowned pilot, writer, and aviation weather expert. In Weather Flying, a classic penned more than a quarter century ago, he quite literally wrote the book on how pilots can safely deal with ever-changing weather challenges. Several editions later his practical tome remains as on target as when first written. In hundreds of articles and five other books, he has shared a wealth of flying experience garnered over 67 years of active piloting.

Flying was an early passion for Buck. As a curious, if not altogether cautious, 15-year-old, he and a teenage friend built and then flew their own manned glider. The $5 plans they purchased did not include how-to-fly-it instructions — something Buck, as designated test pilot, had to figure out on his own. Towed aloft by a car, the glider attained an altitude of 50 feet, at which point he discovered it was too tail-heavy. The craft "mushed in" to a landing of sorts, breaking the rudder bar in the process. By the next day, though, it was repaired and he was up flying again. The experience began for him a lifelong respect, and love, for glider flying. To date he has piloted more than 30 different glider designs.

"If I were king, every pilot would have to get a glider license before ever getting a power license." Relaxed in his study overlooking the rustic Vermont countryside, Buck enumerates the many benefits of learning to fly aircraft that are fully dependent on a pilot's grasp of wind and weather for sustained flight. "Glider pilots are extremely conscious of terrain, of wind, of learning to land away from an airport. My son [a pilot with Delta Air Lines] has made more than 100 glider landings off airports. How many pilots of powered airplanes have panicked and crashed trying to do the same thing in an emergency?" Buck goes on, warming to the subject. "Take situational awareness. Or traffic avoidance." Map reading, energy management, precision flying — all, he is convinced, are skills that experienced glider pilots hone to exceptional sharpness.

At the age of 23, Buck joined TWA as a Douglas DC-2 copilot. If flying was his first passion, understanding the forces of weather soon became a close second. "Once I started flying as a young teenager, it didn't take me long to figure out that weather is a big, important part of it all." He recalls hanging out in the airline's meteorology office, before and after flights, learning from the staff weather experts. Those early lessons only served to fuel his natural curiosity, and he found himself more and more drawn to the topic of weather.

Meanwhile, he was also working his way up the ranks, becoming TWA's chief pilot in 1945. His management position enabled him to perform several historic "firsts." That November, he took delivery of the very first Lockheed Constellation ever sold to an airline. Although the aircraft was manufactured in California, the official acceptance flight originated in Las Vegas. In that way TWA could avoid paying the California sales tax charged at the time. It was there that Buck handed over a check for $690,000 to the manufacturer (including deposit, the full price was a little over $700,000) and flew the Connie back to St. Louis. "Actually, we did fly it to Las Vegas from California, while the Lockheed crew sat in the back, but we kept that kind of a secret back then."

Buck later piloted TWA's first Boeing 747 revenue flight on December 13, 1970 — which, interestingly enough, was Flight 800, JFK to Paris. It was as a 747 captain that he finally retired from airline flying 22 years ago.

But before hanging up his four stripes, Buck's natural interest in weather led to his participation in research projects that were perhaps the most unusual side of his airline career. As director of a joint TWA/U.S. Air Force weather study, he piloted a B-17G while chasing down inclement weather all over the globe. The project helped to expand the industry's understanding of how icing, thunderstorms, and other extreme weather conditions affect aircraft. As part of this research, he also flew an Air Force P-61 Black Widow night fighter, intentionally flying it into thunderstorms. For his work, he received a civilian Air Medal from then-President Harry Truman.

Weather talk permeates Buck's conversation, a point he invariably returns to. "Pilots have to remember that meteorology is not an exact science. Even so, you're not a complete pilot until you're an accomplished meteorologist, in the practical sense." It is the practical side of weather flying that Buck has best communicated to fellow aviators in his writing. His message is simple. No matter what experience level a pilot has attained, his or her understanding of weather must be sufficiently well matched to conduct the flight safely. "Once the wheels are off the ground, it is completely up to the pilot to monitor and interpret the weather en route."

At 82, Buck hasn't slowed down much. He still pilots a Cessna 170B, which he co-owns with his son, and enjoys cross-country skiing. His seventh book is in the works, this one a retrospective on his long and interesting career. "I don't like to use the word memoir. The book isn't so much about me as about the times and what it was all like to fly back then."

Meanwhile, look for Buck in a glider high above it all, wringing every last bit of lift from whatever weather hand he has been dealt.