Quite a story, Jay. We don't get winds like that too often around here,
but they do come (as you're obviously aware!). Two years ago on the day
I was supposed to solo we had gusts to 55 or so. Nobody flies at
Gran-Aire (Timmerman) these days with anything over 35 knots.

Jay Honeck wrote:

Also, you don't specify whether you actually departed in "62 knot peak

gust"

conditions, or if you were just flying in them. There's a significant
difference between the two types of operation.


I was a student, flying with my instructor, on my first landing at a
controlled airport. We were landing at Waukesha, WI (UES) in the early
winter, having taken off in clear air with a fairly stiff wind from East
Troy, WI (57C).

While we were airborne, the wind REALLY picked up. At altitude, of course,
we felt no significant difference, but we could see by our ground track that
the winds were truly howling.

As we approached Waukesha to land, we became aware that there was literally
NO ONE else on this -- or any other -- frequency. Descending, the air
became fairly turbulent, but -- as a fairly new student -- I didn't think
much of it. (I figured this, like everything else, must be "normal"...)

Wrestling the plane around the pattern, the tower called out the wind was
340 at 40, with gusts. By now even I, in my "newbie" state, knew that this
was not the norm! As we swung onto final, I realized that the runway was
not getting closer very quickly. Coming down the glideslope, the tower
announced that they had just experienced a "peak gust of 62 knots."

Even Bob -- my crusty old CFII with 20,000 hours in every form of
aircraft -- muttered "Oh, ****" to that.

On short final it became obvious that I was not going to be able to land. I
announced to Bob (my instructor) that there was no way I could land the
plane -- at which point he announced "My airplane!" and took the controls.
With the yoke slapping back and forth from lock-to-lock, and the rudder
pedals going alternately to the floor, we slewed crazily through the air, 20
feet above the runway.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, we touched down with a
not-too-terrible thud, and ever-so-carefully taxied to the ramp. Upon
touchdown, the tower actually congratulated us for making a "good
landing" -- and as we taxied past the tower we could see that people had
actually lined up at the base of the tower, just to see us land our little
Piper Cherokee 140... I'm sure they expected to see us splatter good ol'
N5755U, but it didn't happen that day.

Okay, so *I* actually didn't land the plane, but it was a great, uh,
learning experience. (And very typical of my instructor, who believed he
could fly any plane in any conditions -- and often did. We had many
similar adventures together, and I learned an awful lot from him.

He's retired now, but they just don't make 'em like that anymore. Which may
be a good thing! :-)