Turbulence and airplanes

As student pilots we learn early that the smoothest time to fly in daylight is dawn—plus a few hours—and after or around dusk. Of course, this is when a front isn’t pushing through wreaking havoc on the atmosphere. For this reason, I try to give rides in my Cessna 172 during these hours, which makes a much more positive first-flight experience for my passengers. Even in the heat of the afternoon, most turbulence can usually be topped above 6,000 feet agl, so flight at other times is usually not an issue. It’s also much cooler up there on those summertime flights.

At work in the jet, we take off and blast through the lower altitudes in just a few minutes on those “spirited” days after a cold front blows through, for example. It’s not smooth for those few minutes, but the high wing loading of a jet makes the ride much more acceptable than what we get in light airplanes with low wing loading and a structure that has little to no flex. On days like this, we have our flight attendants stay seated after takeoff until we give the all clear. Typically, by the time we reach 10,000 feet they’re good to work the cabin.

In high-altitude cruise, jets must contend with the jet stream, shear lines, and of course thunderstorms that can top out way above my Boeing 737’s 41,000-foot ceiling. All these events will likely bring on the bumps, most assuredly tangling with a thunderstorm. Those are relatively easy to deal with since we have excellent on-board weather radar at our disposal. And with internet availability we get lightning information right on our iPads to deliver a more complete picture.

Often, routine turbulence en route is dealt with simply by changing altitudes. Sometimes it could be just 2,000 feet up or down, some days it could be 15,000 feet, and other times you just have to suck it up. ATC is often the best source for rides, and on active days they are good at letting you know what to expect before you have the chance to clog up their frequency by asking.

On the technology front, we are now using a clever user-based app called SkyPath that provides a graphic depiction of turbulence being experienced by airplanes. SkyPath utilizes the iPad’s built-in accelerometers to detect turbulence. If you’re getting light turbulence, for example, SkyPath will leave yellow “droppings” in your wake to alert other users of the app to the type of ride in that area. Of course, internet availability and user participation are critical to SkyPath’s usefulness.

Before the descent and approach phases, I try to get a read of what to expect based on any number of sources as well as our company dispatchers. Depending on the airport, however, a little common sense will go a long way. Approaching Reno, Nevada, or any airport in the mountains on a windy day, you can bet on getting turbulence. On these days, we will be sitting the flight attendants down early.

While the climb through turbulence after takeoff is often brief, the approach and landing phase can expose you to 20 minutes of the stuff as you get vectored at low altitude for your turn at the runway. Sadly, there’s not much we can do about that. One note about the radar and lightning images during the approach phase at low altitudes: Heavy rain and lightning is a no-go. Red on the radar and no lightning? You’re probably going to have a smooth ride and a free bugwash. This is often the case in Florida and the tropics.

A caution for those of you with Nexrad depictions on your iPad is to not use it to get up close and personal with convective weather. Those images are often several minutes old, and flying where it appears to be clear may now be the worst part of the storm. Nexrad information is best when used to make long-range deviations around areas of weather. Our tools and technology are constantly improving, which will go a long way to make turbulence and weather avoidance easier.