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Cabin Fever

  • Writer: JM
    JM
  • Feb 4
  • 6 min read

This year’s winter weather in Ohio stinks.  As I write this, I’m staring out of the window at sunny skies, but mounds of snow here and there and a US flag that barely manages to cling to the pole it’s hoisted on between 20-knot wind gusts.  Mother nature hasn’t provided many flyable days since last Halloween – cold, high winds, and snow have dominated our forecasts.  Last week Ohio was rocked by a snowstorm that dumped between ten and fourteen inches of snow, depending on where you live within the greater Dayton area.  My plane has been sitting idle for an extended period.  My students are frustrated at the lack of flying opportunities.  And I’m beginning to come down with the worst case of “cabin fever” I’ve experienced in some time.  If Thomas Pain were one of us, perhaps he’d agree that “these are the times that try [pilot’s] souls.”[1]


But like many other pilots out there who have been flying for at least a few years, I know that winters like these are inevitable.  For every warmer December or January that proves friendly to aviators, there are others that go down in local lore as the “ninth circle” of hades – serving as that benchmark by which the next few winters are measured against.[2]  Come next winter, I’m sure my barber will quickly recall Old Man Winter’s antics of 2025 – 2026 as a comparison the moment I sit down.  Hopefully, such future contrasts will be in reverse to this year’s abject despair.


So, what is a pilot – or student – to do in times like these?  Light your fireplace, brew a fresh cup of coffee (or of your favorite libation), and pick up a good book!  “But Josh,” you might say, “my poor nose has grown raw after spending months perusing the pages of my FAR/AIM and I need a break!”  I’m in complete agreement, dear reader.  As many study opportunities as Mother Nature has provided us lately, I’m certain (at least I hope) that you have reached a point where you can comfortably set down your study materials for some well-deserved mental recuperation, reading something far more entertaining than anything the FAA might pen.


My own FAR/AIM has spent the last two weeks my shelf and I hope to keep it there for at least another.  Have I read anything good lately?  My first suggestion is Michael Korda’s With Wings Like Eagles.  In this historical work, he goes into rather elaborate detail about Britain’s aerial defense against Germany’s Luftwaffe during the 1940 Battle of Britain.  I won’t spoil it by offering too many details, but his examination of tactics, leadership decisions, and intra-organizational politics drew me in mere pages into the first chapter.  He details several battles – between the RAF and the Luftwaffe in the air and between senior RAF colleagues on the ground – that put me on the edge of my couch more than once.  This book is no classical bore, but a drama that very well deserves its own Netflix series.[3]


The book I’m currently reading and that I managed to consume 150 pages of in only two days is titled First Light – written by World War II RAF Fighter Pilot, Geoffrey Wellum. What is so addicting about this first-hand account is just how much I can relate to his own experiences during flight training.  He has proven very relatable when describing just how difficult some aspects of flying really are and just how grouchy we CFIs (including my own) can sometimes be.  Sure, the technological advances of the past eighty years have produced some safe, versatile solutions to modern flying’s many challenges, but I was surprised to learn that not much has changed when it comes to hands-on flight training.  Do you find stalls frightening like I did?  Do steep turns frustrate you?  Has circuit after circuit in the pattern become an exhausting bore?  You’re not alone!  Student pilots have lamented these more difficult flight tasks for over a century now and our continued need for a human at the controls in the cockpit isn’t going to change that anytime soon.  Eighty-five years have passed, yet I found Wellum’s account to be very relatable in our modern times.[4]


If the FAA and your CFI have completely ruined your appetite for reading anything aviation related, then perhaps you’ll appreciate something more terrestrial.  While I’ll confess to being a mediocre cook, I have been a longtime fan of Chef Anthony Bordain’s many television series.  His cynical, yet entertaining demeanor while sampling some truly weird cuisine during his travels proved difficult to not continue watching once I started an episode.  You can find and watch his many shows – A Cook’s Tour, No Reservations, and Parts Unknown – on Netflix or Amazon.  Be sure to have plenty of snacks on hand for the binge-watching that will likely ensue.

 

My wife and I have seen just about every episode multiple times, but I was curious to learn more about his humbler origins before fame found him.  Kitchen Confidential – a book my wife has kept on her shelf – proved even more fascinating than his TV series.  I must warn you that his writing style is rather crass and so this book is best suited for mature audiences.  But his chronicling of past failures – there were plenty of them – successes, mistakes, and triumphs went beyond entertaining.  Not once did I make it more than ten pages without laughing to the point of nearly rolling off of my couch, re-reading an anecdote that the Federal Communication Commission would likely censure if it made its way onto a screen, or connecting one of his stories to some weird event from my own humble employment origins.  I’ll confess to spending most of my youthful weekend nights working in a pizza kitchen, trying to save up some money to fund my adolescent “rites of passage.” And this book revealed that I didn’t know even half of what was afoot in that kitchen that I presumed to know so well.  Tony’s TV series were great, but he saved the best stories for his books.[5]


I’ll make one final suggestion – two actually – that stray well away from the well-trodden, aviation path.  The first is George Washington’s Secret Six by Brian Kilmeade.  This book dives into Washington’s Revolutionary War spy ring he erected inside British-occupied New York.  Washington’s lead agent on the ground – code-named “Mr. Culper” – is the main protagonist that managed the spy ring in and around the city.  His story is truly harrowing: combining many dramatic sequences, near-discoveries by British troops, sabotage, and some rather brilliant solutions to that day’s cryptographic challenges.  Again, I won’t spoil it, but this era of history proves so interesting that Netflix even generated its own series to commemorate Mr. Culper’s many exploits, titled Turn: Washington’s Spies.  I’m half-way through the television series, but I’ve discovered that I can’t ever stop at one episode and I don’t log in unless I have a few hours on a Saturday or Sunday and at least a bowl’s worth of popcorn to navigate a sufficient portion of the story.[6]


It's difficult to feel connected to aviation – to even feel like a pilot – unless you’ve been up recently.  No pilot likes to find themselves subjected to Mother Nature’s worst whims for more than a few weeks.  But it’s times like these that permit us to discover more about ourselves.  The weather’s fickle temperament or even the pursuit of another hobby doesn’t make us less of a pilot than we were last month, or even the month before that! Staying sharp sometimes means broadening or horizons and we ought to take advantage of Mother Nature’s foul moods when we can.  What we read, watch, or even pursue can make us better people, but what we learn might just make us better pilots or instructors too.

 

Read on Folks,

Josh Meyer   

 


[3] Michael Korda, With Wings Like Eagles: A History of the Battle of Britain, 2009:  https://www.amazon.com/Wings-Like-Eagles-History-Britain/dp/0061125350

[6] Brian Kilmeade, Washington’s Secret Six: The Spy Ring that Saved the American Revolution, 2013: https://www.amazon.com/George-Washingtons-Secret-Six-Revolution/dp/0143130609

 
 
 

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