As Moye was congratulating himself on his remarkable weather wisdom, the storm abruptly seized the trimotor and propelled it upward with an unrelenting, rocket-like thrust. He instinctively nosed the plane down into a steep dive, frantically striving to maintain visual contact with the all important patch of light. The futility of the maneuver became apparent. Airspeed and rpm indicators red-lined. The rate-of-climb indicator pegged at maximum ascent. The viciousness of the turbulence caused the ship to pitch and roll widely. Moye reduced airspeed and relied on instruments to maintain control of the ship. He felt ill-prepared to cope with the predicament in which he found himself. Mixed emotions of fear and exhilaration consumed him. Time ceased to exist.
At 18,000 feet, the thunder cloud tossed the trimotor out into bright sunlight. Moye had escaped a disastrous encounter with destructive weather in a worthy aircraft.
The entire story of Moye's involvement with the airline is available in his biography, Flying Carpets, Flying Wings.