Corporate Pilots and Holiday Flying

I should never have posted about snow, about it being "appropriate" for it to snow after Thanksgiving. Just to let me know with whom I was dealing (to paraphrase Wesley Snipes in Blade), Mother Nature let it snow, let it snow, let it snow before Thanksgiving, after Thanksgiving, then a really big storm just a couple days ago. Not to mention record cold I haven't seen since the last time I went mucking around the stratosphere in a jet. Winter is here and it doesn't even officially arrive until Saturday.

The approach of the holidays has gotten me thinking about how much fun flying jobs are this time of year. It's always weird. My readers will remember that I am a business jet pilot, which means that I am--or have been--since I'm at least temporarily retired--a chauffeur with wings. Read, "on-call, all the time." Scheduled time off? Always gets infringed-upon by the flight schedule. Holidays? Usually not observed on their calendar dates.

You get used to being away from home and celebrating the holidays when you can. I'm not suggesting for a second that corporate pilots are the only people who live with this constraint, and I especially apologize in advance to anyone in the military deployed away from home. I know you folks have it much, much worse, and I thank you for your service. I guess I just want to throw out some memories to you pilots out there.

I used to to go to a small airport on the other side of the river from St. Louis where my company had a large plant. I got to know the Holiday Inn so well, I knew the reservation desk staff by their first names. I knew what the Christmas tree in the lobby looked like as well as the one in my house. When they gave me my room number, I knew where it was located in the hotel without having to ask.

Christmas shopping was done in strange malls all over the country when I had full days "off" (standby would be a more accurate descriptor) on the ground. I found some unusual gifts that way. Before the advent (no pun intended) of the internet and cell phones, I also shopped with a few Christmas catalogs and a phone credit card.

There was usually a "command performance" at the big company Christmas party. But it was kind of fun to walk up to the the CEO whom I'd been flying around all year, wish him Merry Christmas, and not have him recognize me right away because I was wearing a dress instead of a pilot's uniform.

There was wrestling the airplane onto the ground in Buffalo just before the big blizzard blew in and trapped us (which happens a lot in Buffalo). Trying to get the engine covers on as the wind really began to howl. Landing in Palwaukee with the snow going sideways across the runway, and making what Hawker pilots call "a safe landing, but not a fancy one"--as in, plant it firmly on the ground and don't fool around about it.

I thought of all the trips to refresher training at FlightSafety and CAE Simuflite where Christmas snows could be recreated in the simulators, better than the best video games you've ever played. One simulator session is always designated as the "cold" day and ground school contains a few hours devoted to "ice and rain." You sit down in your "sim" seat--which is exactly like the one in the real airplane--and the visual shows just enough light in the darkness to see a snow-covered runway and fat snowflakes slanting across the "windshield." You know immediately that the game is afoot, lots of things are about to go wrong, and it's going to be a very long afternoon.

But on another, more recent afternoon, when the Red Dog and I left my warm writing room (well, kind-of warm, about 59 degrees, post-flying budget not allowing for large expenditures of fuel oil) to walk out into the cold yard where an ominous breeze was stirring, I glanced up at the gunmetal gray, pre-storm sky, and felt like the old fire horse gazing at a house fire down the block from his comfy retirement stall. I wanted to be taxiing out in a Challenger jet with all the ice protection equipment turned on, ready to do battle with the approaching snowstorm. You see, I love to fly, even at Christmas time. But whatever you love to do has its trade-offs.

Once in a while, it's a good idea to take inventory of those sacrifices, though, and still if it's still worth it.

I would love to hear some comments about how you've managed your own life trade-offs, faithful readers.

While you're thinking, here are a few words from the in-progress Book Two of the Jude Hayes Mysteries, They Pull Me Back In:

Jonathon opened the limo door for A.J. who stepped out into the chill air catching nary a single snowflake on her shiny leather coat. I slid out after her in time to hear the roar of an old Gulfstream jet launching into the gathering storm. I shivered involuntarily thinking, better you than me, buddy, taking off into this nasty weather. Then I remembered that I was actually contemplating once again assuming just such responsibilities and sighed deeply. I must be nuts.