Threading the needle

We have just passed Ft. Wayne, Indiana and the wind is starting to shift to the left and increase in velocity. The temperature has dropped a few degrees and we are eyeing the datalink weather.

We are burning $90 worth of 100 octane, low-lead aviation gasoline every 60 minutes as 74% of 310 horsepower pulls us through the air.

Outside, it is fine VFR. The ride is smooth and we've enjoyed a brisk tailwind since departing Pittsburgh a little over an hour ago.

We are racing the weather, aiming for a slot between a massive line of storms and Chicago's Class B airspace. Both are places we do not want to go.

The weather is a no-go zone because we want to live to be old. Chicago's airspace is a no-go because we want to get home before we're old and who knows what vectors they'll give us.

Once we hit Joliet, Illinois, we'll shoot north toward Madison, where it is good VFR, and get gas. Then, if we're lucky, we'll continue on home.

Or we'll head for Chicago where my student has business interests. It is St. Patrick's day and a night on the town in Chicago is nearly as irresistible a lure as a night in our own beds.

Or, we'll spend a night in Madison and drink beer on State Street since we know we won't be going anywhere in the morning. The weather is coming.

Our options in all cases are good ones.

There is snow over Lake Michigan and the water is cold, so a more direct route is out and we're aiming for the hole in the needle.

To our right it's beautiful, until you hit the snow over the lake, so our options are good.

Technology makes a trip like this less stressful. With our datalink weather, which brings us radar, current conditions at airports along our route, forecasts and the winds aloft, we can make strategic decisions based on what's happening hundreds of miles in front of us.

The trick is to make good strategic decisions that ensure a safe flight so you aren't forced to make tactical ones.

We make it to the hole in the needle, but just barely. Ten minutes from Joliet the visibilities drop. We've been getting VFR flight following from Chicago approach control but VFR is no longer an option, so we pick up an IFR clearance to Madison.

Chicago approach is the best and we're immediately cleared to Madison. We climb back to 3,000 feet and there is no rain, just mist, haze and light turbulence as we brush against the front edge of the storms.

As we make the turn northward at Joliet the winds that have been continuing to shift from the South rocket us at 196 knots towards Madison, where there is no cloud cover but it is still hazy.

At Madison we can't believe our luck. Somehow the weather Gods who rarely grin are smiling on us. There is a break in the snow and crud that had hit the Twin Cities for much of the day.

We launch on our IFR flight plan and cruise along under an overcast with unrestricted visibilities. Below us it is misty and hazy but there are few clouds. Above is an overcast and it is cold.

A Mesaba airliner reports light icing at 9,000 feet so we immediately file that bit of information away and determine not to climb into the clouds.

We can see La Crosse, Wisconsin and Winona, Minnesota so those become our points of retreat. The datalink shows us that Owatonna, Minnesota is also VFR and Eau Claire is decent. Options abound and we are fat with fuel, thanks to the quick ride up from Madison.

Options are everything and while we are not wealthy given today's weather neither are we paupers. Our options account is merely full enough that continuing is prudent.

The temperatures are still positive as Minneapolis drops us down to 4,000 feet and into the clouds that start to appear near Red Wing, Minnesota.

Our home base had been reporting 1,700 foot broken clouds and five miles visibility and for the first time all day we are truly optimistic about sleeping in our own beds.

As we get closer the weather we have been racing starts catching up and it is snowing lightly when we land while the visibility has dropped to two miles.

Five minutes later it is snowing heavily, but we are warm and dry and drinking coffee in the office no longer caring what the weather is doing.

We've made it through the hole in the second needle.

More milestones

The flying lull continues but there have been some bright spots.

One of my students passed his commercial check ride, the other his private. It's a great feeling on both counts to see dreams come true.

On a more mundane level, my logbook now reads four figures.

Passing 1,000 hours was a surprisingly low-key event. For years I looked at 1,000 hours as an unreachable goal, now it's just another in the long string of numbers that dictate my life.

Numbers are everywhere -- and in many cases everything -- in aviation.

1,000 hours, in fact, means nothing.

1,200 hours, on the other hand, means you're qualified to be pilot-in-command under Part 135 IFR operations. That's provided you also have 500 hours of cross-country flying, 100 hours of night and 75 hours of instrument time.

1,200 is the next number that actually matters to me, and even then only a tiny bit.

10 hours of multi-engine time, despite whatever your big number adds up to, means you don't have enough to get hired by the airlines. 50 hours means you do. Maybe. 25 means you might. And 100 is better.

So 100 is also the next number that matters, although by the time I get there I may or may not have a desire to fly the line, and the line may or may not have a desire for pilots.

The 600 hours of dual given in my logbook, also, means little. It is certainly a crude accounting of experience, but the fact is one person could learn quite a bit about their craft in 600 hours while another could learn very little indeed.

The only milestone left as an instructor dictated directly by the numbers is the ability to train first-time flight instructors, which requires two years as an instructor but only a few hundred hours of instruction given.

So, an instructor who has worked part-time for two years and given 201 hours of dual can train new flight instructors, but an instructor who has worked full-time for 18 months and given more than 600 hours of dual can't.

That makes no sense to me, but that's how it goes in a professional life that is measured in six-minute intervals.

So 2, or 24 if you prefer to count in months, is also the next number that matters. It is also the only number that matters that, outside of continuing to breathe in and out, I can't do anything about.

15 matters too, as you need 15 hours of multi-engine PIC to qualify for a multi-engine instructor's rating, although in my case the exact number to get to the magic 15 is 11.6.

So there you have it. When it comes to the numbers, 11.6, 100, 1,200 and 2 matter right now.

Well, those and tonight's lotto numbers.

I'm not going to spend too much time thinking about the numbers, although it's hard not to when nearly every question, opportunity and paycheck relies on them.

I figure if I keep having fun the numbers will take care of themselves.