Soap Box
Nearly eight decades after Helen Richey became the first female commercial airline pilot, women account for only 5% of membership in the Air Line Pilots Association, and only about 450 women worldwide have risen to the rank of captain.
Now on with the topic…
Springing
April 20th the first day of Spring. Last month my fellow pilot and friend, Judy said, “We should plan a Fly-Out.” So we did. I posted the proposed date and destination – Elma airport. Just 28 miles from my home airport, this is still a good destination as a short flight is better than none. The field is 2,280 x 30, a lot smaller than the airports most of us are used to. Tucked into trees on three sides, it appears to be even tighter. Not a bad thing – a challenge keeps skills sharp or offers the chance to acquire new skills.
Soon momentum began to build. Pilots indicated their desire to attend, a second then third group picked up on the plan and soon we reported to the owner of the Happy Landings Café that she could expect 15 planes to arrive between 11:00 and Noon.
My friend Judy wanted to be the first so she could take photos of planes arriving, so we landed at 10:30. By 11:00 there was a near constant stream of planes announcing their intention to join us. Elma is a sleepy little airport that shares a communication frequency with several other local airports, and few planes visit.
When pilots heard all the traffic at Elma they were curious. Plane to plane conversations likely went like this.
“Elma traffic – what’s going on over there?.”
“Fly-out. We’re all going in for lunch, why not join us?”
“I’ll see you on the ground.”
Weather wasn’t as good as we’d expected, with mixed high overcast and some areas of lower clouds. Air was bumpy and the wind, unfortunately was gusty, hard and a few degrees off runway heading.
Needless to say this made for some interesting, amusing and even scary landings. Arrived Pilots and passengers gathered to “score” those coming in. We might laugh at or deride other pilots for less than stellar landings but we’ve all been there, so it’s in good fun. One guy in a very small, one person, open cockpit bi-plane managed three bounces and proudly accepted “worst landings.” He had a lot of competition, as all but 2-3 planes had trouble with the approach over tall trees and managed a bounce or two. Yes, I did have one small bounce.
Final count – 21 planes on the ground. Each carried 2 or 3 passengers. One came down from Canada, one up from Oregon. That is a very respectable turnout for a less than stellar flying day.
It was also a LOT more people than the Café was expecting or prepared for. We filled the place, totally overwhelming them.
It was a successful event, lots of happy people sharing a love of flight and good conversation.
On the way home I flew past a local grass strip to show Judy where it is.
Back in 2004 just after my mountain flying training, I landed here and was feeling quite pleased with my skills, prideful even. Then I learned that the owner kept his DC-3 here!
Not a big deal to land a 172 with fuselage about the same size as one of the engines on this bird, but I still felt good. For me, it was a challenge well met.
Path is back in his hangar. I hurried to the airport on Tuesday to make what I call a shakedown flight. I always do this following an annual, to make sure everything is just right. It felt so good to be back in the air, where I belong. One of the reasons that repairs on that Turn Coordinator were so expensive is because it has a connection to the auto pilot. I was told the auto pilot didn’t work when I bought the plane, but it didn’t matter to me as I prefer hand-flying anyway. Apparently this failing coordinator was the problem. I now have an operational auto pilot – bonus! I expect to continue doing most of my flying without mechanical help, but just once in a while it might be useful. After making five touch n go’s and seeing what it was like to act like a passenger while the plane flew itself, I made my final landing (which was near perfect) and put 45 minutes in my log book. All was well with plane and pilot. Good weather predicted for next day, ready for a real flight.
Wednesday morning started out with heavy fog – ¼ mile visibility on the ground. Just to the north – clear, blue and sunshine; same to the south. Frustrating and so typical. Then between 10:30 and 10:50 poof! – fog gone – It’s Mother Nature’s magic trick. I filled out paperwork for an hour’s vacation and thought about to where I would fly when 4:00 came around.
I’ve flown around every bit of Mt Rainier on many flights, yet the pull she exerts is strong. I announced my intention to depart the runway with a turnout to the east and as soon as we were high enough– there she was. Brilliant white in the lowering sun, sharply outlined against blue blue sky.
“Here I come Lady Tahoma, will you welcome me today?”
Mount Tahoma was her original name, and a glacier and small peak on her southeast side still retain these names in the form of Tahoma Glacier and Little Tahoma. The welcome I was inquiring about is my own way of describing flight conditions near mountains. Sometimes wind and air are smooth and soft and the mountain seems to say “Welcome. Come and fly as close as you wish.” On those days my plane skims her ridges, soaring softly over her glaciers so closely I can see blue ice. Her massive bulk fills my windows completely. Other times as we climb up to her feet, as a gnat to an elephant, she sternly rebuffs our overture with a slap of wind and turbulence. At those times, I turn quickly away and admire her from a distance. This was one of those times, I had to be content with a cautious circumnavigation that still provided me with some sights so beautiful, incredible, lovely that I need another language to use that has more superlatives to accurately describe. These photos can only hint at what it feels like to pilot your plane past this Lady with the setting sun glowing behind her.
Now this last shot is something I'd not seen before. It's the shadow of Mt Rainier reflecting on the haze to the east!
A friend said "Let's go have some fun."
With us this means flying someplace. We took off (after the blasted fog burned off) to go to Oregon. Perfect conditions with smooth air, great temperature, and unlimited visibility. We had not flown together (in separate planes) before. Pilots negotiate who will lead. Slow plane typically, so I throttled way back to let Judy take the lead. Amazing how much less fuel I burn with airspeed at 100 knots or under. Also decided in advance, is how close we will fly - we settled on 1/2 mile minimum.
Crossing the Columbia river just southwest of Kelso.
Our first stop was Salem, OR. Met a friend of Judy's who took us to his farm where we were encouraged to harvest all the veggies we wanted.
Leaving Judy's plane behind we made a quick run south to Lebanon so I could fill up on cheap MoGas. We also wanted to visit with the couple that runs the FBO. Dana and Larry are the best!
This is somewhere over northern Oregon. Love having pictures of my boy in the air!
A long time ago when as I child I would lay on the summer grass looking up into a circle of blue sky defined by evergreen tree tops and see planes passing over. I would wonder if someday I would be in or even fly such a plane - like Penny on Sky King.
A lot of life and years went by. I worked, married, raised children. Then a chance meeting with a pilot followed by a conversation with my husband changed my world. "Hey, Mike", I said. "I met the Sheriff's pilot today. Wouldn't flying be a wonderful way to make a living? I'd love to fly someday."
"We could probably afford for you to take lessons, why don't you look into it?" He replied. Two weeks later, this 53 year-old grandmother lifted into the air in a Cessna 150, snugged into the cockpit with a CFI. (Certified Flight Instructor). It was an Introductory flight just to see if I would like it. Five minutes into the flight I knew, without any doubt whatsoever that I would become a pilot. No matter what it took. The joy and freedom and thrill of moving an aircraft around the sky with my own hands wasn't even diminished by the airsickness that arrived as my instructor took control and guided the plane back to the ground.
It was a successful event, lots of happy people sharing a love of flight and good conversation.
On the way home I flew past a local grass strip to show Judy where it is.
Not a big deal to land a 172 with fuselage about the same size as one of the engines on this bird, but I still felt good. For me, it was a challenge well met.
