It could be said that many of my flights have a common thread – mountains. There are a couple reasons for this. One. I love mountains. Always have, even when I drove up to be among them. Two. There is a spine of mountains that runs right down the middle of Washington, and another system along the northwest coast. If you’re flying in Washington, mountains appear in front of you.
Sunday’s flight was to introduce a Dad and his two sons to aviation. I’d offered to pick them up at the airport in Olympia – a 15 minute flight. They were eagerly waiting when I taxied up to the FBO. (Fixed Base Operator, which is similar to a gas station, but with more services).
I like to provide more than just a “ride”, especially when taking young people. It is my hope that the hands-on experience will inspire them to become pilots themselves.
So I took them through pre-flight procedures, explained the function of control surfaces and what makes a plane fly. Some kids are just anxious to get on with the ride, but these two soaked up knowledge without fidgeting. We talked about where we could go, but unfortunately their home (everyone wants to fly over their house) is within OLM’s airspace. I probably could have asked the tower for permission to do some low maneuvering in the area, but hate to do so on a day with a lot of air traffic. We settled on visiting Mt Rainier. Next the discussion as to seating plan.
“Who wants to sit up front and fly the plane?” This one always results in big eyes and excited faces. Dad (Spencer) generously took the back seat with oldest son and young son scampered up into the right seat. We spent some time talking about dials and knobs and their function. I explained communication protocols, safety and the role of passengers.
As we lifted off from Runway 17 and turned out to the East, our view was filled with Mt Rainier.
As we gained altitude I explained the artificial horizon and how to turn the plane. Drew, at 10 couldn’t see over the panel but he watched out the side window and while not comfortable, seemed to take pride in the fact that he was flying an airplane.
The mountain was welcoming and we moved in close, hoping for a view of shimmering blue-green glaciers, but they were all buried in snow. The façade was none the less a treat for all on board. Spencer (Dad) took videos and I snapped a few photos. We spotted some climbers making their way up through the snow, but I didn’t get photos of them.
Here is one of Paradise, the visitor center and hub of ground based visits to Rainier. I was surprised to see the road open, and so many cars in the lot.
In order to introduce my friends to Rainier, I’d climbed to 10,500 feet. Now I needed to lose 9,000 of those feet in under 30 miles. Mindful of ear discomfort in sudden changes of altitude, I kept the descent to 500 feet per minute and circled down to our planned stop at Pierce County airport.
At PLU there was plenty of action on such lovely day. We walked past the lines of tied down planes and talked about makes, models and of course made time for photo ops. Here are happy fliers, and the two boys with a beautifully restored DC-3.
As we headed back to Olympia, it was Skyler’s turn to try the controls. I don’t know if it was his time spent practicing with Flight Simulator or my theory that youngsters seem to have a natural feel for flying, but either way, this kid was flying the heck out of the plane. We started with straight and level, added turns (I handled rudder since his 13 year old legs couldn’t reach) then maintaining heading and altitude. He instinctively divided his time between instruments and eyes outside the cockpit and in spite of light chop almost perfectly maintained position in the sky. Skyler ‘s concentration was complete, yet he remained relaxed at the controls. He reluctantly handed over when it was time for me to negotiate our approach back into Olympia. I think he would have flown for hours. Such a joy to watch his face and imagine his conversation with friends at school.
I keep balsa wood planes on hand, so back on the ground, Spencer and I watched the boys burn off energy flying while we talked with a local instructor about the costs and joys of flying.
SoapBox
The instructor and I bemoaned the fact that due to the litigious society we now live in, young people can no longer hang around airports, washing planes and doing other tasks to earn flight time and instruction. That is a loss to aviation and our youth. Guess it makes more sense to sit them in front of game consoles or have them roaming the streets getting into trouble.
Continuing my mission (among many it seems) to give flights to senior citizens, I took two people up last weekend. This is Fred who was celebrating his 78th and Joan who arranged the flight to surprise Fred.
At 6:30 when I got up, the weather was perfect. Notice a theme here? Yes, pilots are obsessed with weather. I for one, get up and look out the window first thing every day. No, I’m not planning to fly, just going to work most days , but got to know if I could fly. So anyway, this day is good. At 8:30 I call Joan and arrange to meet her and Fred at the airport, but 11:30 is the earliest they can manage as Fred has slept in and has chores to do first. This amazing man still runs a small 80 acre farm, singlehandedly.
By the time 11:30 arrives, so have the clouds. Not totally overcast, but the mountains to the east are obscured and a flight west to the Ocean is out due to rain and increasing winds. Those being the two top choices for scenic flights.
It’s safely flyable so I take them south to see the Columbia River and “go to Oregon.”
On the way, we make a few circles trying to spot Fred’s farm, always a popular pastime of passengers. I’m really careful though, as low circling flight can be difficult on tummies. Stomach acid is hell on planes.
These two really don’t care where we go as long as we’re flying – my kind of people! Joan is excited and talkative, Fred nearly mute. He shares his home with Judy, as hers was damaged in the flood of 2009 to the point that the city won’t allow her to live there without extensive repairs which a fixed income won’t cover. Of course homeowners won’t cover floods, and she had no flood insurance as her home is in an area that has NEVER before flooded, so why would she? I know this because Judy talked non-stop during the entire flight and that gave me a strong clue as to Fred’s silence.
Down here along the river near Kelso (KLS) we spotted an unusual group of vehicles and people along this spit. Circled back to get a photo and try to figure out “what are they doing?” No clue but sure a lot of cars on the beach.
Red circle is the spit.
As you can see, in the background here, there are patches of rainfall. We avoided them without problem and my passengers were delighted to “see rain without getting wet.”
I thoroughly enjoyed these people and had to get firm with them in refusal of payment. They could not believe that all I wanted was a smile and a hug. But that is the price listed on the Grey Eagle flyers I pass out, and I’ll not allow otherwise.
Climbing onto the Soap Box
Joan is forced to “depend on the kindness of strangers”. She has paid taxes and been a productive citizen all her life. Now that she needs help, there is none for her. Yet, she continues to pay taxes on her meager income. She expressed anger at the help that goes to lazy young people who drive nice cars and have cell phones while collecting from the government. I cannot blame her, and would see it otherwise.
Hey Chris - "Airport Time" that is the perfect term. Thanks!
Started flying (as chronicled on this blog) back in 2003. Began logging those precious hours. Every minute counted and was carefully noted. Then sometime after the first book was full, I set a goal – 1,000 hours. Started the second logbook and then came the day when I knew one more flight was all I needed to reach the magic number.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Weather was what I call “flyable” and forecasted to improve. I needed 2 more hours. Decided a flight south to Lebanon, OR (S30) would be just about right, and I could fill up on cheap fuel at the same time.
There is a strange thing that happens to time when a pilot gets near an airplane or just an airport, for that matter. Time flies. Really it does.
I left for the airport around 2:00 pm, preflighted, pulled the plane out and lifted up into what had now become clear blue skies. The flight to Lebanon is one I’ve made many times so was routine, but flying is never dull. New things to see, no matter how many times you follow the same route. Total flight time from CLS to S30 is just over an hour (depending on winds, and if a diversion is required) Oh! Look! What’s growing in that field? Never saw that color before. I’ll circle back and take a closer look.
But on to my point about time. I landed at Lebanon on runway 34, taxied up for fuel, talked just a minute or so with the folks at the FBO and then off for home. Somehow it was almost 6:00 pm already! Where did that 4 hours go? Time Flew.
So now I’m heading back north and as I pass Hillsboro (HIO) I’m watching the clock closely. At EXACTLY 6:20 pm …
I’ve got 1,000 hours.
Interesting note is that I was right here ...
over Scappoose (SPB) which was the first airport I landed at, other than my home field. Circles. Life happens in circles.
Since then I’ve added almost 250 hours. Now that the big goal has been reached I’m not so attentive. Sometimes a flight here and there doesn’t make it into the log, but I still enjoy watching my time build, so try keep a tight rein on recording.
A Saturday morning, July last year. Weather CAVU (Clear and Visibility Unlimited). The kind of day I want every weekend to deliver.
A new lady pilot friend Dava, flew her 182 to Chehalis, our planned meet up point for loose formation flight to Hood River(4S2).
The WAAAM (Western Antique Aeroplane and Automobile Museum) was having a special Women Pilots get in free day to celebrate Amelia Earhart’s birthday. Friends had told me this was a great museum and Dava and I were looking forward to connecting with other lady pilots as a group of Oregon 99’s were planning to fly in also.
We departed Chehalis, on a SE route past the western flank of Mt St Helens.
Rainier, Adams, Hood and Jefferson were all at their visible best as I led the way, playing tour guide as we were flying in my home neighborhood. Approaching and crossing the Columbia River Gorge can be rough and windy, but not this day. A couple minor bumps then we found calm winds at Hood River, touching down about 45 minutes from takeoff.
WAAAM is everything I’d heard and then some. Huge rooms full of planes, cars, and motorcycles. Many cars and planes from the same era were displayed together. A lot of time effort and planning has clearly gone into this jewel of a museum. Be sure to plan a visit. http://www.waaamuseum.org/
The icing on my cake was the opportunity to meet, visit with, and listen to stories from a WWII WASP. At 91, Anna might be slowed down physically but mentally she was as they say, sharp as a tack. When asked about her favorite plane to ferry she paused for a moment as if reliving some fond memory and said lovingly “The P-51”. “Why?” we asked. Her response was immediate. “It was big, powerful, fast and oh, the rumble of that engine!” I felt it an honor to meet this woman, and told her so. She humbly indicated surprise at my excitement and interest.
Leaving, I led the way west through the Gorge, again pointing out sights of interest. That is beacon rock on the left down near the river.
Multnomah Falls
Cascade Locks Airport and the best route to fly should weather require a “Run through the Gorge” to get back onto the west side of the state. A stop at Scappoose (SPB) for cheap fuel and then we parted company, each heading for our own nests. A very satisfying day.
Those male pilots who read this blog are hereby warned. Weather has been horrible. Then when the sun finally peeked out, fuel prices soared. Flying has not happened. This post is NOT about planes or flying. But check back – I’ll be back to aviation next time.
Welcome to those who are still here!
Part of the process of getting ready for retirement is the ongoing sorting, discarding and packing. Last week I went through my stack of crochet patterns and books. I don’t quite know how it happened, but the next thing you know I was going through every page. So many projects I’d been planning to make someday.
I realized it had been a long time since I'd taken up a hook, that I’d missed the creative challenge. Grandma taught me how to crochet when I was five and I’ve enjoyed the craft off and on ever since. Other interests grab my time and attention for years sometimes, but always crochet calls me back. This is the doily that I selected, picturing it on the bedroom nightstand. I’m so pleased with how it came out, and had so much fun in the process that I’ve started a new piece – filet crochet edging for kitchen curtains featuring a baby chick pattern.
I’ve spent a lot of hours watching HGTV. Love those shows about cleaning and fixing up a house to help it sell. Didn’t expect to sell my home, just enjoyed the shows. Now I’m putting that information to work and unfortunately am learning how those people felt. All the hard work, just for someone else. If you’ve been dreaming about some change, or upgrade and you can possibly afford it – do it NOW. Don’t regret it someday when you downsize or your new job is in another state and you’re making those improvements for some stranger to enjoy.
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.
100 years ago the first woman earned a pilot license - Baroness Raymonde de la Roche in France. A year later Harriet Quimby became the first woman pilot in the US. For those who are wondering Amelia Earhart obtained her license in 1922.
Since that first, women have gradually expanded their numbers and hold steady at a mere 6% of licensed pilots. As of 2009 there were 594,285 pilots in the United States, 36,808 of them women – roughly 6%.
As an aviatrix (I think that is such a cool word) I’m passionate about encouraging everyone to fly, but especially women. A sad thing about male pilots is how often their wives have no interest in or flatly refuse to fly with them. Here they are with this wonderful skill to view the world and explore it as few can, and the person they would most like to share it with stays on the ground.
Of course, I would like more women to become pilots, joining me in this sisterhood. But barring that, I want to help them appreciate the joy of flying. To do this I introduce the concept in a way, as a fellow woman, that often encourages them to try flight, sometimes becoming enthusiastic or at least willing to go more often.
Last December I flew woman and girls all afternoon as a part of a program called Fly it Forward. Some were excited, some fearful but brave, some reluctant but going on a dare from a friend. All came away with something. All left something behind too. I flew home with the remembered sounds of their surprise, joy and laughter the brightness of their smiles, giving me wings.
If you’ve ever thought you might like to fly, don’t put it off… go for it. Events are being held all over the country for Centennial of Women in Flight and Fly it Forward…find one near you. Then write and tell me all about your time in the air! Can't find a flight? Email me and I'll help you.
This young woman is learning about pre-flighting before we go up.
As we headed back to Olympia, it was Skyler’s turn to try the controls. I don’t know if it was his time spent practicing with Flight Simulator or my theory that youngsters seem to have a natural feel for flying, but either way, this kid was flying the heck out of the plane. We started with straight and level, added turns (I handled rudder since his 13 year old legs couldn’t reach) then maintaining heading and altitude. He instinctively divided his time between instruments and eyes outside the cockpit and in spite of light chop almost perfectly maintained position in the sky. Skyler ‘s concentration was complete, yet he remained relaxed at the controls. He reluctantly handed over when it was time for me to negotiate our approach back into Olympia. I think he would have flown for hours. Such a joy to watch his face and imagine his conversation with friends at school.
