Thump! The seat belt dug into my waist. The vertical speed indicator’s needle swung down as if broken. Bam! Now the nose of the plane jerked upwards. Then the plane disappeared out from under me, dropping like a roller coaster car. I levitated out of my seat and my headset slammed against the Plexiglas above me.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” I cursed softly under my breath. I cinched the shoulder belt as tight as it would go and looked up to see if I had broken the window. I hadn’t.
It was a rough day in the skies above eastern New Mexico. Planted fields, dark green, sucked in the hot sunlight like solar collectors, radiating out towers of rising air above them. Lighter, fallow fields had less heat rising above them. As we flew over patches of earth of differing colors, we passed through columns of rising air moving at different speeds. Meanwhile, in the sky above me, the opposite thing was happening. Scattered cumulous clouds of varying sizes were generating columns of falling air, downdrafts, each of a different speed and size. To top off my misery, a strong wind was gushing over the terrain like water over stones in a mountain stream, striking mesas and buttes, splashing currents of wind high into the atmosphere, then crashing back down again.
Three flavors of turbulence. It was wild. And there was nothing to do but ride it out.
I had my left hand wrapped around the yoke and my right hand wrapped around the windshield brace, which I’d covered in a piece of grey foam rubber pipe insulation from Home Depot for just such an occasion. I didn’t fight the winds, beyond keeping the plane rightside up. I’d lose 500 feet. Then gain 800. Then lose 300. And gain 200. A blue and white feather in the wind. Trying to hold an altitude would just be hard on the airframe and on the engine.
Altitude control a lost cause, I worked on my attitude control. My personal attitude. Flying in turbulence isn’t really much fun, but I tried to tell myself that people pay good money for being bounced around at amusement parks, and here I was getting it for free, and for a lot longer than any carnival ride. And then I remembered.
I really don’t like amusement parks.