Despite my active stalking of the weather throughout the day, it became more and more obvious that it just wasn’t going to cooperate.
I kept looking and interpreting and then looking some more but the fact remained that there was snow in the air and high winds around. Even without that the cloud base was predicted to be 3000ft at all the points on my route.
Despite this I did my planning, packed my flight bag and made as if it was going to be miraculously alright and I would indeed be flying. I even called down to the flight school to see what plane I was booked in to get the figures for my weight and balance calculations.
Later that evening I got the inevitable phone call from Bob. We were officially a no go. I was a little disappointed but mostly I felt relief.
Relief that Bob had come to the same conclusion I had half an hour ago
Relief that it was factors outside my control causing the delay. This isn’t about me not being good enough or brave enough.
Relief that we made the decision at 8:30pm rather than 6:30am
Relief that I wouldn’t be doing what promises to be the most exciting flight of my life in less than optimal conditions.
Along with that I am feeling a certain amount of optimism. We get some awesome winter weather once it’s all stabilised. Days that are cold for sure but crisp, bright and achingly beautiful. So different from what winter is like in the UK. Days to make me appreciate my new home all the more. What better day could there be for me to do the most amazing flight of all?