In a perfect aviation world, skies would always be clear, our engines would merely sip cheap fuel by the pint instead of guzzle it by the gallon, and the winds always would be right down the runway. That world, of course, doesn’t exist, so we’re forced to get an instrument rating, plan fuel stops and carry a live credit card, among other adaptations. We also have to learn to strike a balance between the runway’s orientation and whatever the wind is doing when we want to take off or land.
We call the difference between the runway heading and the wind’s direction a crosswind, examples of which have bedeviled pilots since Orville and Wilbur tossed a coin to decide who would be the first to fly their contraption. (I’ve always wondered whether the coin-toss winner got to fly or got to stay on the ground.) In fact, there’s something of an Internet competition among aviation buffs to come up with the gnarliest video of airliners landing in a crosswind. The entries are never-ending and some crews just aren’t getting paid enough.
