Last night, a certain 9 year old boy's father looked at me, thoughtfully, and asked, "You know, a passenger doesn't really need to talk in order to fly. And if they're just being a passenger, I bet we could put a pair of shooting muffs on him, and it'd be good enough to protect his hearing. He wouldn't have to wait until we got a second headset for the plane, would we?"
And I thought about it, and nodded. "Sure. We wouldn't communicate well, but it wouldn't keep him from flying. We could do that."
The gentleman paused, and slowly asked, in an all-too-casual manner, "Then maybe you could go flying this weekend?"
"I think we can." I said, with a slow smile starting at my eyes and working its way down.
He glanced down by his knee, and said, "Oh, don't show that to me. Show that to her." And the 9-year-old spun around and displayed a grin so big I could count every back molar.
This morning somebody threw off their covers at the first gentle "Hey, rise and shine." He'd put his clothes on the night before so he could be ready, and hurriedly rushed through brushing his teeth and gulping down a bowl of cereal. A thunderstorm was passing overhead, but we left it behind as we drove to the airport, where weather was reported fair. Unfortunately, the storm was moving toward the airport, and it was a nasty cluster of cells. By the time it would be past, somebody would be very late to their test at the dojo.
So instead of flying, we walked around the plane, comparing everything to the model airplanes he's flown with his father, and he made like a monkey climbing inside the cockpit to work the yoke and rudders, and go over the instruments. As the rain started to fall, we headed back to the FBO, and with permission wandered around the attached community hangar.
I didn't know there was a post-war Focke-Wulfe in there, in camo and iron crosses. Somebody headed straight for it like a moth to a flame, only slightly diverted by the Citabria. We spent a good twenty minutes examining aircraft, and then I showed my evil side by shamelessly buying a coke for each of us, and splitting a couple brownies. (Fortunately, the aforementioned dojo will be a great place to work out the sugar high.) After some more chatting on everything from thermals to deer hunting to rainbow-farting unicorns (he is a 9-year-old boy, with 9 year old humor), we headed home.
Despite not flying, he had a grin and bounce to his step as he headed inside to eagerly tell a sleepy father all about the airport, and sitting in his first full-scale airplane. Then it was back to plotting with his sister on how to get past the mountain lion on the Cabela's hunting game (which is nothing at all like doves or real deer, I'm thoroughly informed).
I'll get him in the air yet, and I'm glad he had a great Saturday morning.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Home
After calling off flying out Monday, Brigid and I set out to find Tam, food, and fun. We definitely found Tam, and my goodness was there excellent food in large quantities. The fun was spectacular, though I wilted a bit in the heat of the day.
The next morning, the weather briefer was full of warnings about mist and low vis, practically IFR and I shouldn't fly until after a cold front came through in the afternoon. It was a glorious morning, though the faint hazy mist rising off the corn promised another mugging by Mr. Heat and his drinking buddy Mr. Humidity by the afternoon. A cropduster came in for another load, and reported a wonderful morning with calm air. I took his opinion over the weather briefer's.
It was a nice morning, and even nicer once I got up a few thousand feet. Above the haze layer, visibility was endless, the air was crisp and cool, and I even had a tailwind.
DaddyBear of DaddyBear's Den had offered a place to crash halfway, and I declined it with gratefulness to him for offering, and to God for such wonderful weather that it wasn't needed. One quick stop in Tell, Indiana to fix a patch, check oil, and let my husband know when to pick me up, and I was on my way home.
The last sixty miles I was back in the haze, as a broken layer of clouds started capping every thermal. I soared over the farm where I've gone shooting and stoked bonfires (soon I'll get to be there and see the farmer again!) Then a little further south, and landed in Lebanon, TN.
The FBO called on unicom, wanting to know if I'd be staying a while, and were confused when I replied that I was going too be based there. When the gent brought the fuel truck out, he recognized me from the times I'd come through, and rented the Citabria to knock the rust off before leaving. The CFI I'd flown with in the Citabria came out, astounded that he'd caught me just as I was landing from the long trip.
Then, best of all, my husband was there. He looks a little slimmer, but much stranger. He'd decided to whimsically grow a mustache. Hey, I was gone a few months, he had to get up to something. Perhaps, though, he should have consulted with Lawdog about mustaches... But I digress. After a long hug and a short kiss (mustaches are prickly!) I was finally really truly home.
The next morning, the weather briefer was full of warnings about mist and low vis, practically IFR and I shouldn't fly until after a cold front came through in the afternoon. It was a glorious morning, though the faint hazy mist rising off the corn promised another mugging by Mr. Heat and his drinking buddy Mr. Humidity by the afternoon. A cropduster came in for another load, and reported a wonderful morning with calm air. I took his opinion over the weather briefer's.
It was a nice morning, and even nicer once I got up a few thousand feet. Above the haze layer, visibility was endless, the air was crisp and cool, and I even had a tailwind.
DaddyBear of DaddyBear's Den had offered a place to crash halfway, and I declined it with gratefulness to him for offering, and to God for such wonderful weather that it wasn't needed. One quick stop in Tell, Indiana to fix a patch, check oil, and let my husband know when to pick me up, and I was on my way home.
The last sixty miles I was back in the haze, as a broken layer of clouds started capping every thermal. I soared over the farm where I've gone shooting and stoked bonfires (soon I'll get to be there and see the farmer again!) Then a little further south, and landed in Lebanon, TN.
The FBO called on unicom, wanting to know if I'd be staying a while, and were confused when I replied that I was going too be based there. When the gent brought the fuel truck out, he recognized me from the times I'd come through, and rented the Citabria to knock the rust off before leaving. The CFI I'd flown with in the Citabria came out, astounded that he'd caught me just as I was landing from the long trip.
Then, best of all, my husband was there. He looks a little slimmer, but much stranger. He'd decided to whimsically grow a mustache. Hey, I was gone a few months, he had to get up to something. Perhaps, though, he should have consulted with Lawdog about mustaches... But I digress. After a long hug and a short kiss (mustaches are prickly!) I was finally really truly home.
Monday, July 25, 2011
One more day in Indy
After a long day of good food, good fellowship, and good fun, we went to bed early...earlier, anyway. life was awesome. (There's no way I can top either Brigid's version, or Tam's. Go read their posts.)
Then I woke up at 4am feeling like someone had kicked me in the bad leg, wearing steel-toed boots. Why can't barometric-pressure-sensitive old injuries be more like weather widgets, with a vague notion of impending rain instead of an early warning on the pain scale? Ibuprofin, a little net surfing til it kicked in, and bed. Yay painkillers!
Fortunately, Brigid is a very understanding host, who sent me back to bed the second time I limped out of it, and gave me coffee on my third try at getting up. I love my friends!
...and there's still cheesecake left...
Then I woke up at 4am feeling like someone had kicked me in the bad leg, wearing steel-toed boots. Why can't barometric-pressure-sensitive old injuries be more like weather widgets, with a vague notion of impending rain instead of an early warning on the pain scale? Ibuprofin, a little net surfing til it kicked in, and bed. Yay painkillers!
Fortunately, Brigid is a very understanding host, who sent me back to bed the second time I limped out of it, and gave me coffee on my third try at getting up. I love my friends!
...and there's still cheesecake left...
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Picture Post Bozeman to Indianapolis
Over the Badlands
Flying into the smoke trail of a contained wildfire
Over South Dakota, which alternated between luxurious fields and struggling ones - the trails of poor growth from flooded soil were everywhere.
Why, yes, that is a storm moving in from exactly the opposite direction of the stiff low-level wind. Chamberlain, SD.
See the puffy cumulus hidden in the haze? Or, why I diverted yet again in Iowa.
Sylvester the airport cat, waiting for dues of scritching to be paid should I want fuel.
Why there are almost no pictures after Carroll, IA: the sky was full of thick, low-vis haze that I could not outclimb, even when I went to 5,500 feet. Also full of cumulus that I was busy steering between, and thunderstorms I was very hugely avoiding. That's the Mississippi River, by the way.
Flying into the smoke trail of a contained wildfire
Over South Dakota, which alternated between luxurious fields and struggling ones - the trails of poor growth from flooded soil were everywhere.
Why, yes, that is a storm moving in from exactly the opposite direction of the stiff low-level wind. Chamberlain, SD.
See the puffy cumulus hidden in the haze? Or, why I diverted yet again in Iowa.
Sylvester the airport cat, waiting for dues of scritching to be paid should I want fuel.
Why there are almost no pictures after Carroll, IA: the sky was full of thick, low-vis haze that I could not outclimb, even when I went to 5,500 feet. Also full of cumulus that I was busy steering between, and thunderstorms I was very hugely avoiding. That's the Mississippi River, by the way.
Near Indianapolis
Got up at the crack of dawn to get the plane out before the semi with the cropduster's loads showed up and parked in front of the hangar. Checked weather, loaded airplane, waited for a storm to pass from southwest to southeast. Walked out to an airshow intended only for the corn, as a thrush was spraying a field just north of the airport.
Went further south to get behind storms, then rode the wind they were using to rumble across the land into Illinois. Three hours later, my fuel was low and my bladder sounding the amber overpressure alarm. I diverted to the second-nearest airport, as it had a runway into the wind and the nearest one did not.
Galesburg, IL, had half the ramp full of ag planes loading fuel and chemicals... but the other half the ramp was crowded with personal airplanes, many of which were beautiful, shiny, freshly washed and waxed. An RV, a round-engine Cessna 195, light-sport composite that looked like the cockpit still had the new airplane smell... I wondered as I tied my plane down just what I'd found.
Then I walked into the lobby, and found the weather computer niche overstuffed with pilots trying to find a way through the storms to Oshkosh, for EAA's greatest aviation show on earth. We chatted until the fueler was finished with an ag plane and could get to my plane. Then in the air again, until my GPS was nearly dead, I was on my third sectional for the day, and I was emptying the wing tanks.
Finally, I got near Indianapolis, at one of the smaller airports nearby, called in on the low-battery left on the handhold, and landed in the thick humid heat. After I taxied in, I took the nearest parking space... just past two T-6's that were tied down and swathed in covers. I don't know if they're headed to Oshkosh or back from the Peoria airshow, but it was quite the sight.
I'll be here a day or two, as Brigid of Home on the Range has been kind enough to let me crash at her place. Really, guns, good food, airplanes, a black lab to spoil (and get back here with that underwear!), a bit of good alcohol to cap the night... Life is awesome.
Went further south to get behind storms, then rode the wind they were using to rumble across the land into Illinois. Three hours later, my fuel was low and my bladder sounding the amber overpressure alarm. I diverted to the second-nearest airport, as it had a runway into the wind and the nearest one did not.
Galesburg, IL, had half the ramp full of ag planes loading fuel and chemicals... but the other half the ramp was crowded with personal airplanes, many of which were beautiful, shiny, freshly washed and waxed. An RV, a round-engine Cessna 195, light-sport composite that looked like the cockpit still had the new airplane smell... I wondered as I tied my plane down just what I'd found.
Then I walked into the lobby, and found the weather computer niche overstuffed with pilots trying to find a way through the storms to Oshkosh, for EAA's greatest aviation show on earth. We chatted until the fueler was finished with an ag plane and could get to my plane. Then in the air again, until my GPS was nearly dead, I was on my third sectional for the day, and I was emptying the wing tanks.
Finally, I got near Indianapolis, at one of the smaller airports nearby, called in on the low-battery left on the handhold, and landed in the thick humid heat. After I taxied in, I took the nearest parking space... just past two T-6's that were tied down and swathed in covers. I don't know if they're headed to Oshkosh or back from the Peoria airshow, but it was quite the sight.
I'll be here a day or two, as Brigid of Home on the Range has been kind enough to let me crash at her place. Really, guns, good food, airplanes, a black lab to spoil (and get back here with that underwear!), a bit of good alcohol to cap the night... Life is awesome.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Jousting with storms like Sir Robin
When it comes to thunderstorms, I stand with Sir Robin - bravely running away! When flying over I-90 and realizing I was pointed at a very large towering cloud rising out of the haze, I looked to my right, my left, and dove left for the nearest airport. I waited until the coast was clear and snuck around behind the thunderstorm... only to find out that a thunderstorm's passage doesn't always mean clearer, dryer, cooler weather. As the haze got thicker and thicker and cloud deck overhead became solid and started getting darker, I promptly picked the nearest airport, and landed at Sioux Center, Iowa.
The ramp was full of Agcats, Thrushes, and all other sorts of cropdusters...and a twin. The dampers started playing tetris with towbars and airplanes, and when an obvious hole opened, I was glad that I still had my large tires - I simply checked to be clear of taxiway lights, and promptly rolled off the asphalt, across the grass, and onto the ramp where the hole for parking was.
Sioux Center Aviation loaned their crew car to me, and I set out with directions to the public pool. $5 for a day pass, and I had all the hot water in the world for a long, hot shower to finally get my hair clean while waiting on weather to clear. I love public pools! Yay hot water!
The sky opened up, and I set off into the same high headwind even as ag pilots were busy calculating loads, trying to poach each other's mechanics, and splitting for a last few passes in the golden evening light. Unfortunately, at an airspeed of 90mph and a groundspeed of 68mph, the weather built and moved faster than I did. So instead of trying to run the gap between storms moving northeast, I went south, and east as able. Run away!
Good thing I did, too, because as the haze grew thicker, the sun lower, and little while puffs started to rise above the haze, I landed at Carroll Municipal airport, in beautiful Carroll, Iowa. An Ag plane was just finished loading, engine rumbling and pilot putting on his helmet as I taxied up to a tiedown.
This airport is just incredible whenit comes to friendliness and hospitality. Free hangarage for the night, free laundry, free shower with provided towel, soap, shampoo, courtesy car, fine by them if I sleep on the air conditioned couch... If I'd known this place existed, I would have been steering here all along, not come by storms and chance!
Of course, the airport cat did stretch herself out in front of the gas pump so I had to pet her to get to the fuel, but that's hardly an imposition. Good things come to those who see thunderclouds and run away!
The ramp was full of Agcats, Thrushes, and all other sorts of cropdusters...and a twin. The dampers started playing tetris with towbars and airplanes, and when an obvious hole opened, I was glad that I still had my large tires - I simply checked to be clear of taxiway lights, and promptly rolled off the asphalt, across the grass, and onto the ramp where the hole for parking was.
Sioux Center Aviation loaned their crew car to me, and I set out with directions to the public pool. $5 for a day pass, and I had all the hot water in the world for a long, hot shower to finally get my hair clean while waiting on weather to clear. I love public pools! Yay hot water!
The sky opened up, and I set off into the same high headwind even as ag pilots were busy calculating loads, trying to poach each other's mechanics, and splitting for a last few passes in the golden evening light. Unfortunately, at an airspeed of 90mph and a groundspeed of 68mph, the weather built and moved faster than I did. So instead of trying to run the gap between storms moving northeast, I went south, and east as able. Run away!
Good thing I did, too, because as the haze grew thicker, the sun lower, and little while puffs started to rise above the haze, I landed at Carroll Municipal airport, in beautiful Carroll, Iowa. An Ag plane was just finished loading, engine rumbling and pilot putting on his helmet as I taxied up to a tiedown.
This airport is just incredible whenit comes to friendliness and hospitality. Free hangarage for the night, free laundry, free shower with provided towel, soap, shampoo, courtesy car, fine by them if I sleep on the air conditioned couch... If I'd known this place existed, I would have been steering here all along, not come by storms and chance!
Of course, the airport cat did stretch herself out in front of the gas pump so I had to pet her to get to the fuel, but that's hardly an imposition. Good things come to those who see thunderclouds and run away!
Mitchell, SD
The wind in Billings finally died a little after 5, and I got out. About 15 miles out of Gillette, WY, I flew into the smoke trail of a contained forest fire. Visibility was still fine as long as you weren't looking toward the sun. I put my lights on to be more visible, and landed at Gillette right about the time the sun touched down, too.
The next morning was cool, bright, with fair weather, and I tried to cover ground as fast as I could. Stopped for fuel and sunblock in Wall, SD. Wall Drugs is a tourist trap, not a functional drugstore... darned hard to find sunblock. Got back to the plane, and managed to burn my legs right through SPF 45.
Got to Chamberlain, SD before the heat exhaustion started making me stupid. Landed, drank half a gallon of water, talked with a couple Agcat mechanics (working on a Thrush, right then.) Realized I was flat-out exhausted, camped. Spectacular lightning and thunder show around midnight, but almost no rain.
Woke up this morning to the sun shining, birds chirping, jake brakes... wait, no, that's distant thunder. Waited for the thunderstorms to pass, then took off along I-90 as it was the clearest corridor east. Fifty miles later, realized I was pointed directly at a growing thundercloud just down the road. Landed at the airport to my right, and having a cold soda while watching the radar until it reports the coast is clear.
The next morning was cool, bright, with fair weather, and I tried to cover ground as fast as I could. Stopped for fuel and sunblock in Wall, SD. Wall Drugs is a tourist trap, not a functional drugstore... darned hard to find sunblock. Got back to the plane, and managed to burn my legs right through SPF 45.
Got to Chamberlain, SD before the heat exhaustion started making me stupid. Landed, drank half a gallon of water, talked with a couple Agcat mechanics (working on a Thrush, right then.) Realized I was flat-out exhausted, camped. Spectacular lightning and thunder show around midnight, but almost no rain.
Woke up this morning to the sun shining, birds chirping, jake brakes... wait, no, that's distant thunder. Waited for the thunderstorms to pass, then took off along I-90 as it was the clearest corridor east. Fifty miles later, realized I was pointed directly at a growing thundercloud just down the road. Landed at the airport to my right, and having a cold soda while watching the radar until it reports the coast is clear.
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