Should we fly through an area of rain 70 miles wide and hundreds of miles long that contained scattered embedded storms, fly around it, or land short to wait it out?
That was the question co-pilot AOPA Digital Media Production Manager Josh Cochran, AOPA Director of Photography Chris Rose, and I pondered as we flew AOPA’s Beechcraft Bonanza home from a media assignment.
Our IFR flight plan was simple: Purdue University Airport (LAF) in Indiana, east-bound to Frederick Municipal Airport (FDK) in Maryland, at an altitude of 7,000 feet. Our only obstacle was a typical summer afternoon line of storms moving south to north over the Appalachian Mountains.
Most days, in-cockpit datalink weather radar imagery from SiriusXM or ADS-B would present an obvious path to take through the rain to avoid the storms, but today was not that simple. Higher intensity cells were popping up and dissipating within 30 minutes. A path that looked innocuous would suddenly become blocked by yellow and red intensity cells (as viewed on datalink radar) that quickly spent themselves and became light green again. If we flew through the rain at 7,000 feet, we would most likely be in instrument conditions—making it impossible to see the higher intensity pop-up storm cells and adjust course to avoid them. And since datalink weather is not real-time, we could not use it to pick our way through the dynamic weather.
We weighed our options. We could fly north about 100 miles to make an end run in front of the approaching weather system. That seemed like a safe choice, although it would add a lot of time to our flight. The Bonanza cruises at 165 knots and could easily outrun the menacingly red leading edge of the system. Our destination was 100 miles east, but with over 500 miles of range remaining, we’d have plenty of fuel to circumnavigate the weather.
We could remain on a direct course to Frederick though the middle of the system. We’d be through in 25 minutes and the radar imagery was mostly green. But what if one of those red cells formed just as we were flying under it? I didn’t want to be directly below a developing cumulus cloud the second it became a mature storm.
We could fly south to an area where the system was narrower—about 15 miles wide—to find a quicker route through. But, that 15-mile stretch showed more yellow and red on radar than other areas. Finally, we could land at an airport west of the Appalachians and wait for the weather to improve. None of us had to be home that night.
We decided we didn’t have all the information we needed to make a fully informed choice, so we used a Phone a Friend (to borrow a famous TV series catch phrase) and called ATC. Most en route ATC facilities have access to real-time radar, so we asked which part of the system looked like it had the least intense radar returns. Our controller at Clarksburg Approach said we would encounter no rain if we deviated north and warned of numerous areas of heavy to extreme rain at our 12 o’clock and 50 miles.
He then offered that if we were willing to fly about 50 miles southeast, over the Elkins VOR, there was an area of moderate rain that appeared to be only three miles wide and we’d be through the worst of the system. That was not evident to us based on the datalink radar imagery we were seeing, so we decided to fly the suggested course. With the amazing technology available to us in our aircraft, it’s easier than ever to be self-sufficient when making weather decisions—but don’t forget to leverage the folks at ATC who have access to information we may not.
We got tossed around by light turbulence and doused by moderate rain for a few minutes, then we popped out of the clouds into a surreal scene I’ll never forget. A thin layer of fog was tucked deep into the lush green valleys of the West Virginia mountains, and brilliant white clouds rose vertically above the mountain tops, towering out of sight. Right in front of us—inside this wall of clouds—was an improbable and spectacular double rainbow, which we flew directly through.
This was a great example of pilots and controller using all available resources. Together, we devised a safe and efficient course home and Josh, Chris, and I were rewarded with a visual treat best viewed from a general aviation aircraft.