go wrong. go wrong... go wrong . . . . . well sounds like you picked up a bag going into Birmingham. Sticking the neck out when you'd rather have plain sailing does not compare with the old ways of cloud seeding, when you'd fly on and on in stratus at minus ten, the boots unable to have any effect on the fast build up of rime. Standard way round it was to wait till the first hint of a shudder, then switch off the burners and go down to get rid of the ice. Needless to say, this was not the practice when over terrain with lowest safes that would compromise a return intact to base.
Sometimes wondered what damage a ten foot long great thick javelin of an ice slice would inflict, if by the remotest chance some farm house or wandering stockman happened to cop the spear.