That is the fun of the clouds which look like “mashed potatoes.” The big fellows can be much more serious. Once into them, and one has the sensation of being surrounded by an everlasting mass of grey, comparable, so far as visibility goes, with a heavy fog. In such clouds one can find all varieties of weather—rain, snow, or sleet.
In the trans-Atlantic flight, we encountered both rain and snow. There lies one of the greatest risks of long distance flying—I mean moisture freezing upon the wings of the plane. The danger zone of temperature is said to lie chiefly between twenty-four and thirty-eight degrees, when slush begins to form. Once in trouble of that kind, the pilot does his best to find warmer or colder temperature, normally by decreasing or increasing his altitude.
As an example of the ice menace, I was told of a plane which after a very few moments in the air was barely able to regain the field whence it had taken off in a sleet storm, coming down with a coating of ice which weighed at least five hundred pounds.
Speaking of ice, I am often asked about the temperatures in the air. “Is it dreadfully cold up there?”
Recently a group flew from New York to Boston on one of the hottest mornings of the summer. The temperatures at about 2000 feet were probably some degrees lower than those prevailing on the ground. We all know that unless one encounters a breeze, often the temperature on a mountain 5000 feet high is no more agreeable than that at its base. In a small open plane, as contrasted to the cabin ship, one would have a pleasanter time on a summer day, and conversely more discomfort in cold weather. It parallels the experience in an open car.
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THE BOBBY SAID: “IF MY WIFE SEES THIS!”
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