“Meaning I’ve barely scratched the surface?”
“Meaning you’re a natural who’d probably love the technical side as much as the hands-on part. Knowing how to adjust when things don’t go according to plan.”
She was quiet for a moment, processing. “Do things often not go according to plan?”
“Sometimes. Usually nothing dramatic. Just weather changes, traffic conflicts, maybe a radio frequency that’s busier than expected. Good training means you’re ready for the routine surprises.”
“Routine surprises. That sounds like an oxymoron.”
“Aviation’s full of them.”
The clouds ahead had definitely thickened while we’d been talking, moving from scattered into something more substantial, but there was still enough clear sky between us and home. Alex had noticed too—her posture straightened slightly, scan pattern becoming more deliberate.
“Those clouds are getting bigger,” she swallowed.
I followed her gaze to the darkening cumulus developing along our route home. “We’ll keep an eye on them. Still plenty of clear sky for now.”
But even as I said it, I felt the first gentle bump of turbulence rock the plane, and Alex’s hands tightened slightly on the controls.
The next bump was stronger, lifting us momentarily before dropping us back into place. Her knuckles went white on the yoke.
“Just thermal activity,” I reassured her. “Afternoon heating creates updrafts around those clouds.”
“Right,” her response was clipped. “Normal turbulence.”
Another bump, this one with a sideways component that rocked the wings. The clouds were moving our direction now, their bases darkening from white to gray. Not dangerous yet, but building faster than I’d expected.
“How’s our heading?” I asked, giving her something specific to focus on.
“Two-seven-zero. Steady on course,” she responded.
The wind had shifted, and I could feel it in the way the Cub wanted to drift slightly south of our intended track. Alex was correcting for it automatically—small inputs on the rudder pedals—but I watched her scan pattern become more rapid and less methodical as she tried to make sense of the fluctuations.
That’s when I heard it—the subtle change in engine note that meant trouble.
The RPM dropped from our normal cruise of 2300 down to 2100, the steady drone becoming slightly rough around the edges—enough to notice. Enough to worry about.
“Finn?” Alex’s voice wavered slightly. “The engine sounds different.”
I was already running through possibilities—fuel flow, ignition, carburetor. The humidity from the building weather ahead, combined with the temperature differential...
“Engine’s running a bit rough,” I confirmed, keeping my assessment matter-of-fact. “But we’re still producing power. Feel how we’re maintaining altitude?”
“The weather’s getting worse and something’s wrong with the engine,” her words came faster now, tension bleeding through her control. “Should we land? What if it quits completely?”
Alex’s body had stiffened in the front seat, her movements becoming tighter as her brain tried to process two variables changing at once—exactly the kind of compound problem that could overwhelm even experienced pilots.
“She’s still flying fine, Alex,” I replied calmly, drawing on years of talking pilots through much worse situations. “Keep your scangoing. Airspeed, altitude, heading.”
But underneath I felt my own pulse pick up at managing both the engine situation and Alex’s rising panic—keeping her engaged while solving the problem. The building storm ahead meant we needed to move deftly, and I could already feel the first whispers of fatigue tugging at my concentration.
Focus. Diagnose. Solve.
“Engine’s telling us something,” I forced my voice to stay in teaching mode. “This humidity from that weather system, perfect conditions for carburetor ice. See how the roughness started right when we flew through that moist air?”
“Carburetor ice?” Her voice was tight, but she was listening. Still flying.
“Ice blocks the airflow, reduces power. But there’s a procedure for it,” I leaned forward slightly. “Reach over and pull the carburetor heat knob all the way out. Red knob on the right side of the panel.”
