It's a Sickness

Dec 10, 2009

I’m sitting in the room in Vegas. It’s late-ish, the girl is asleep again, and only the lights from the city illuminate the room. And even though I’m away from the line on R&R I still can’t stop thinking about airliners. “It’s a sickness” my grandmother would say.

Maybe so, Grandma. But it does run in the family. I can’t help it. Grandpop flew P-51’s in the war, Dad flew taildraggers just for fun, and I spent 15 years in glider cockpits and Civil Air Patrol while I was young. What do you expect?

To kill some time before sleep I have my laptop and I'm monitoring BOS approach on LiveATC.net - and I love doing this. If I want I can check the radar track on FlightAware.com and just watch the jets come in. It doesn’t take too much of it before a 3 dimensional image forms in my head of what is going on.

Tonight is typical Boston early December slushy snow weather. Some areas of the region received an inch of snow, some received nothing, and some received ice. Runway 4 right is the active tonight and I can literally close my eyes, listen to the com traffic, and see the whole aerial dance in my head. I know Runway 4, I’ve flown that approach many times. Runway 4 is my friend. Well, except for those damn cranes they use to unload freighters with that are positioned right below the glide path.

As I listen to ATC I see that apparently the phrases of the night are “RVR or “runway visual range”, and also “braking action.” Runway visual range is how far you can see down the runway while landing on it, and braking action is, well, obvious. Every ship coming in and every transmission tonight includes information about both. Every time a ship lands, the controller asks for a report from the pilot on RVR and braking action. But also every ship that calls approach also asks for the RVR and breaking action report from the previous ship that landed. Airliner after airliner comes in, each separated by just 3 or 4 minutes of flying time from the last. The action is tight. Within the last hour a squall has passed through as well and I’ve been monitoring both the deteriorating and improving conditions of the runway. It’s just fascinating.

Then suddenly, just like getting the munchies, I’m dying to go flying. What? Dying to go flying in slushy, rainy, crappy Boston Weather? Yes. I want to be up in there with those other ships battling through the clouds and snow and rain. Why? I don’t know. It’s a sickness.

Over the last hour RVR has increased to 5000’ feet and braking action is reported good, even by the heavies. It seems the squall has blown through and all will be well for the night. For me, the lights of Vegas, cool sheets, and the breathing of my girl keep me company. But still, I lay down with my head plotting approaches, dodging snow squalls, setting flaps, and I dream of WOONS.