Waypoints: Sometimes you have to say ‘no’

My cue for that expectation was the handoff to approach control at Roanoke, Virginia.

Previous experience told me that the Roanoke controller would issue a new clearance off our northeasterly route to a nearly due north route across the mountains to the Kessel VOR in the middle of West Virginia before we would be turned more easterly to Martinsburg, West Virginia. From there the IFR clearance would have us fly northeast on V166 to the Westminster VOR—right over our destination of Frederick, Maryland, and then we would be cleared direct back to the west to Frederick. Life in the shadow of the Washington, D.C., airspace.

Apparently, Roanoke Approach has a letter of agreement with Potomac Approach that any traffic from the south headed for the D.C. area will be on that route. I’ve often found that if I accept this route, I can usually negotiate something more direct with the next controller. A more direct route is not only shorter, of course, but it keeps light airplanes away from the Appalachian Mountains, a breeding ground for thunderstorms and turbulence in the summer and turbulence and icing in the winter.

However, this day a series of Level 3 and 4 thunderstorms had parked northeast of Roanoke and north of Lynchburg. The new clearance to Kessel would put us right through the middle of them.

The Roanoke controller did not disappoint. He read me the revised clearance. I acknowledged it and told him that the route would take us through the thunderstorms. He responded that he was required to issue that clearance, as if that was some sort of comfort for me as we stared at the towering dark clouds off our left wing and the green, yellow, red, and magenta radar returns and yellow lightning strike indications on various displays in the panel and on my iPad.

After a couple of back and forths on the radio, I finally replied, “The cleared route is not acceptable. Let me know what else you have.”

Pregnant pause on the radio.

And then from the controller, “OK, fly current heading until you can go direct Martinsburg; report direct Martinsburg. How many miles will that be?”

“About 70 miles,” I replied and repeated the rest of the clearance. Seventy miles would put us about over the fix we had already been cleared to, followed by the turn direct Martinsburg—as we had been cleared earlier. In other words, keep on keepin’ on….

As we trucked farther northeast, though, an isolated cell began to blossom just west of Washington Dulles International Airport. Our northerly turn beyond the immediate weather would have us pointed right at it.

Fortunately, the easternmost part of the system to our north began to dissipate and was soon starting to fall apart. An alley opened up between two areas of green returns on the Nexrad that would allow direct Martinsburg sooner and help us avoid the cell near Dulles. Knowing that one should not use ADS-B In or satellite-delivered Nexrad for tactical flying—strategic only—I was hesitant to make the turn based solely on the returns. However, I could soon see blue skies through the alley and at 9,000 feet we would be on top of a few lower clouds. So, being able to maintain visual conditions—always a good goal when flying in the vicinity of thunderstorms—I made the turn and let ATC know.

The isolated cell near Dulles looked spectacular in the evening light as we motored northward just west of it—its bright white clouds turning golden as the sun set. A helpful Potomac Approach controller allowed us to cut the corner, passing through the Washington Class B—which doesn’t always happen—and soon we were on a visual approach to Frederick.

As I’ve written many times, our controllers do a great job and are generally really resourceful in helping us navigate around weather. I’ve lost count of the number of times they’ve proactively given me vectors around areas of weather before I even knew a problem lay ahead.

Occasionally, though, one must exercise pilot in command responsibilities and let them know that letters of agreement drafted by a bureaucrat at HQ don’t cut it when flying in a dynamic atmosphere. In other words, it’s OK to say no when you have a good reason.

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