Flying Life: Shades of gray

The former hover over children in the interest of keeping them safe, whereas the latter believes that giving children freedom creates stronger, more confident kids. I know parents who fall into each category. While their parenting styles are different, they all love their kids and are doing what they think is best. Why, then, is there so much judgment between the two groups—as if there can only be one right way to raise a child?

In aviation, we are often guilty of a similar offense, judging the way other pilots make decisions. I don’t believe it comes from a malicious attitude so much as the ever-logical pilot brain: If my way keeps me safe, and your way is different, then you must be wrong. So, here’s the question: Is there only one definition of safety? And if you take a risk I would not take, does that make you unsafe? On the parenting scale, I think I fall more toward the free-range mindset; my mother, who was raised on a farm in the 1960s, would disagree. However, in the airplane, I confess, I make decisions like an overly cautious grandma, preferring an extra safety margin in all things.

Take for example my recent spring break trip. My husband and I had a grand plan to fly with our children from Memphis to Asheville, North Carolina, to watch our nephew’s basketball tournament, then head south to Cape Coral, Florida, to enjoy time with friends on the coast. To make the trip even sweeter, a friend let us borrow his Beechcraft B55 Baron, a considerable upgrade from my Cessna 172. We were going to get there fast—until I got behind the wheel and started making decisions like a 95-year-old. On our initial departure out of Memphis International Airport, I was cleared to line up and wait on Runway 18C. A FedEx Boeing 757 was then cleared for takeoff on 18L. With a strong crosswind from the east blowing those vortices my way, I was feeling uneasy. Sure enough, the tower controller immediately cleared me for takeoff with a “caution wake turbulence” warning.

No thank you, grandma whispered. “Tower, I’d like to cancel my takeoff clearance for 18C and request a departure from 18L please.” Was I safe to depart on 18C? Probably. The runways are a decent distance apart, and the departure ends are staggered. The 757 probably rotated several thousand feet beyond where my liftoff point would be. However, one look at my precious sleeping cargo in the backseat, and I knew I couldn’t take that chance.

When we neared the Smokies, somewhere around Chattanooga, I noticed the ceiling creeping lower—only about a 2,000-foot clearance over the mountains. To make matters trickier, the freezing level was low, meaning I possibly would have to deal with icing conditions if I chose to pick up an IFR clearance and climb into the soup. Now, the Baron was well equipped with pitot heat, prop and wing deice, and more. Could I have done it safely? Yes, and many pilots would have. But grandma chose to divert south about 50 miles to avoid the mountains and ice altogether. We landed safely in Asheville and had an uneventful leg down to Cape Coral a few days after my nephew won his conference championship (Go Wofford!).

The trouble came on the leg home to Memphis, when a passing cold front meant possible thunderstorms and low ceilings en route. With SiriusXM Aviation and a fuel capacity adequate for diverting around scattered storms, the Baron was more than capable of making the trip home in one leg. But I thought it best to stop in Valdosta, Georgia, in order to get some contingency fuel while reassessing the weather situation. By the time we landed in Valdosta, the storms ahead had dissipated, allowing us to make an easy flight home. The total trip, with diversions and the extra stop, took a bit longer, but the extra margin of safety lowered the stress for this pilot.

Did I exhibit good decision making on my trip? I think so. Could I have done it differently and still been safe? Yes. Please understand, I’m not advocating recklessness. Flying into the face of a thunderstorm seems categorically unwise. But for the everyday aeronautical decisions, I think it’s time we stop judging the way other pilots think, even if it doesn’t fall in line with the way we would necessarily do things. Let’s not forget that pilots have different experience and comfort levels, thereby making their definition of safety different. Is there room for a thoughtful discussion of the risks of different decision-making patterns? Absolutely. But let’s keep that discussion open-minded. Very few things in life, flying included, demand a one-size-fits-all approach.