Full Issue (PDF) July 2018 Issue
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The Saratoga suddenly requested a climb. He was getting knocked around by turbulence in the cloud bases. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do at that moment. Passing 1000 feet directly over him—my minimum vertical separation—were a string of climbing airliners. I couldn’t bend the jets away from him, as I had another line of descending jets ten miles west of them. It would be an impromptu air show.