Leg 9 - A Half Circumnavigation - Thomson Ga (HQU) to Calhoun Ga (CZL)

 Today, I had to accept the fact that the last 400 miles to Kitty Hawk was not going to happen. In addition, I would not get to see my niece, Heather, who I have not seen for many years. Heather lives in West Virginia. The weather, both east and north of me was unflyable. In fact, it was unflyable in every direction. 

I sat in a motel room for 2-1/2 days waiting for the weather to improve. It didn't, nor was it going to for the foreseeable future. I couldn't go east or northeast. 

There was no way to tell the weather would improve. The weather here is fragmented in that a number of airports may be reporting clear skies, when everything in between is scattered or broken layers down low. Every flight feels like a crap shoot as to whether I'm going to make it to my next destination or not. 

Most pilots set their personal minimums for each flight. For example, ceilings no lower than 3000 feet, visibility no less than 7 miles, and maybe a few others. But how do you judge personal minimums when airports are reporting clear, but the conditions in between may be well below your minimums? 

It has been brought home to me that even with current technology, real time weather reporting is very limited when flying VFR in a small plane that can't climb very high.

I felt somewhat defeated today as I, once again, climbed into uncertain skies. Normally 10 miles visibility sounds like plenty. I have learned over the last few flights that 10 miles visibility, in haze, when flying between multiple layers and lines of building cumulus, is just not enough. This is especially true if you are unfamiliar with the area and terrain below. The inability to see any horizon requires a constant review of the attitude indicator to ensure the wings are level.

The thirty years of flying in California, and an instrument rating, did not prepare me for flying in all the different weather I have encountered on these cross-country flights. It has been, at times, a frightening, stressful, and painful series of lessons. 

Today, I headed northwest for one reason - to get to better weather. As I bounced around at 8500 feet I came to a realization. If I was at home I would never fly in this kind of weather. Also, if I was at home, I would never fly in the physical and mental state I was in. While I've mentioned my back issues, I have a number of other physical issues to deal with as well. 

Except for the time I spent in Houston and New Orleans, I have not been able to eat properly, or healthy, on this entire trip. The lack of any semblance of proper nutrition ,and hydration, has been further aggravated by the heat and humidity I have experienced. 

For a younger person, my challenges might be nothing more than a mild annoyance. For an old man, they have a much more profound effect. They have worn me down to the point that this is just not fun anymore.

I made a short fight today, about one and a half hours. I needed to get out of Thomson, Georgia. I made it safely to Calhoun, Georgia. After landing I pulled out my backpack and my electric scooter and rode the 2 miles to the Red Roof Inn. Of course I managed to get lost along the way! I checked into a brand new hotel. It was a nice change from some of the low rent motels I have been staying in. 

Tomorrow I am going to plan a new route direct to Denver from where-ever-I-am in Georgia tonight. Hopefully I will get to see my son in a few days. From Denver I will head directly home. 

I'm so sorry Heather! It breaks my heart to disappoint you.

Added Note:

Here is the weather along my route of flight for today. It illustrates the challenges I have been talking about.

The colored dots indicate the weather condition along my route. At the same point in time there is Low IFR, IFR,  Marginal VFR, and VFR. It will likely remain this way throughout the day, as it has for the past 5 days of my flying.