....a Black Wall.
While stationed at Peterson Field, Colorado Springs flying the T-33, my cross country bud and I went out at least twice a month on weekend cross country flights. We were both very single and had no reason to stay home.
On this particular cross country (XC), we were flying along the Gulf Coast headed to Florida. On our last leg, we encountered a huge line of thunderstorms that extended well into the Gulf of Mexico and as far north as we could see. So, there was no going around it. The tops of the line of was well above what we could climb to. Getting closer to the line, it was obvious we would have to punch through it somewhere. The entire line looked like a solid, black wall, with no light shining through from the other side.
The T-bird wasn't equipped with radar so, we were at the mercy of ATC (air traffic control) to find a “soft” spot to punch through. We queried the controller and he advised that all the airliners were going through the same spot. That’s were we want to go. After all, the airline jets have those fancy weather radars. Can’t go wrong with that, right? So, we take up the controller’s suggested heading. Cruising at 37,000 feet, we enter the dark wall. Immediately and without hesitation, hard, continuous turbulence starts. It’s nearly pitch black, lightning is going in every direction, there’s a confusing mix of ice and rain, the UHF radio is thick with unbearable, constant static, and the turbulence is getting worse. Much worse. In UPT (USAF Undergraduate Pilot Training), we were trained to maintain a level flight attitude flying through turbulence and not chase altitude deviations. Easier said than done. Oh, and I happen to be in the front seat doing the flying this leg.
We expect to punch through and be back in the clear fairly quick. It’s not happening. The turbulence has us in a tight grip. It’s getting so bad that our ejection seats are rattling up and down on the rails that guide the seat out of the cockpit during an ejection. We never knew that could happen until today. In addition to the ice that was accumulating on the jet, the turbulence has the now empty tip tanks wobbling up and down on the wing tips. We try to get the ATC controller to answer but, can’t tell if he can hear us or is replying because of the constant static.
For nearly ten minutes this goes on without interruption. Then, suddenly, we pop out the other side of a near vertically perfect wall into beautiful clear blue, smooth air. The ATC controller is frantically calling “Puma 44 how copy! Puma 44 how copy!” We reply “Jacksonville center Puma 44, how copy”. He replies that we are loud and clear. He thought they had lost us and we had broken up in a thunderstorm. They lost our transponder code on radar, had no skin paint, and obviously couldn't hear us on the radio. We suggested they not vector anyone else through that “soft” spot in the line of thunderstorms.
We continued on in clear blue smooth air to our destination with a new appreciation for weather penetration at the recommendation of ATC.
