Happiest Flying

Two Years Later

2011-04-02T15:05:00.000-07:00

Hmmm, it would seem that I've been busy for two years or so.

Not really, it just seems that way.

New girlfriend, some job losses, some world travelling, lots of guitar, and a ton of other interesting things. Lost a great friend a few weeks ago, to a terrible disease. Went to his funeral, instead of staying in touch while he was still here. Need to change that behavior, among many others.

I think that the world of blogging has been passed by by Twitter, Facebook, and whatever else is coming along the pike, so that's my excuse for non-participation. However, being windy and wordy, I still like this.

Going to work out the real post in a few hours, and will let you all in on it.

Love.

Five Minutes To Live - I'm With The Band - A Little More You

2009-07-16T10:42:00.000-07:00

So much more to say. So much more than I can easily write in the few minutes I've got for this.

But, some friends and I have been gathering at my house on Sundays, and we've been working out some songs. Mostly we're in dire need of improvement, but every once in a while we get something sounding not too bad.

James Novellino, Brandy McCaslin, Aaron Day and myself, Jeremy Wilson, are the basic members, with Ted Potts sitting in on bass, Bill Wright from time to time on guitar, Sara Reynolds as a vocalist. It's a bit eclectic, and things are kind of moiling around as we work out the music, relationships, etc.

But, it's a blast, and I wouldn't trade it for a moment. So, here's a link to the most recent videos, and I hope you enjoy them.

Easter Monday

2009-04-13T08:16:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been an interesting spring.

Wait, there hasn't BEEN a spring yet. It's still fricking winter!

OK, OK, there's daffodils and tulips in my garden. I've had a bit of time on my hands to garden, mind, since there's been very little activity on the job front. Had a prospect, but upon reflection discovered it didn't suit me, or my temperament. So, I'm working to change me, and my temperament. Enough said about that.

Back to the weather. It stinks. There were exactly four days a week ago where the weather was awesome. Two of those days straddled a weekend, and I can confirm that I spent one of those days sitting on my deck or out on the point with three buddies playing raucous guitar. It helps if you have a Fender Stratocaster should you wish to play raucous guitar.

Said Stratocaster made it's way into my life a bit earlier this spring. Have spent an inordinate amount of time on YouTube learning how to play from the get-go, at a website called www.justinguitar.com which I found after some searching. There's nothing like back to the basics to learn something, and I told myself that I was going to do that, as opposed to trying to use my musical ear to figure things out.

The pleasant result is that my playing is a lot better than ever. And, right until I invited the three guys over I thought I was making great progress. Then, one of them, James, picked up his guitar and I realized just exactly how far it is that I still have to go. The guy's a guitar god, and it was a real pleasure watching his fingers fly. I'll never be a thrasher, but there's much to learn from that style. Most importantly, his fingering exercises.

Anyway, I feel badly about not maintaining this blog. There's so much to say. More later.

Best to all.

Four Good Years

2009-01-07T16:06:00.000-08:00

Not surprisingly, given my relationship with my new boss, the state of the economy, and the salary and commissions I was being paid, I find myself today out of work.

Four years to the day since I started at Galvin Flying Services.

I have been well rewarded. I have some issues with this, but that's for another post some few weeks in the future.

To my friends who read this, know that I will be baffled, confused, and then come out the other end just fine, or better than ever.

Love to all.
Jeremy

Much Clearer Now

2008-10-22T21:57:00.001-07:00

Some Tunes

2008-10-11T00:36:00.000-07:00

Last Few Days on Oahu

2008-08-30T16:51:00.001-07:00

Went flying, formation flight, around Diamond Head, in a DA40 Diamond Star. Flown by Kele, an outstanding pilot. The other aircraft had Nitai, another fine pilot, and my friend Pam.

Purpose of the flight was photography, which I'm hoping to sell to Diamond Aircraft. They've been very receptive of the initial few photos. I'm hopeful.

Here's a slideshow of what happened on that flight. Lots of photos, so double-click the slideshow if you just want to go look at one or two.

First Few Days on Oahu

2008-08-19T00:08:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a very exciting trip to Oahu so far.

Let's start with the alarm not going off for the flight. Should have been 4:00 am. Could swear I set it on my cellphone. Fortunately my backup plan worked just fine, that is, the TV came on at 4:00

Needed to run into work before the flight at 8:20, so I had to jam the pedal to the floor to make it all happen. Over the Tacoma Narrows bridge at high speeds, up the I-5, in to work, back to SeaTac, and arrived at 6:25 am. You'd think that would be OK, right?

Wrong.

Lineup immense at ticket booth. Confirmation number entered, machine says "no seat assignment has been made, seat will be assigned at gate...."; security lineup from hell, gate lineup from hell, but finally, on to the flight; five hours of snoozing, reading, watching the movie, and it's into HNL, to the baggage carousels. I waited. I waited. I waited. So, when everybody but twenty of us had come and gone, it was one last line, to fill out the baggage claim form.

Pam met me outside. Our first meeting. It was very nice. We went for lunch, down by the docks. It too was nice. Then, it was into the truck and out to the North Shore, through Haleiwa town. Into the surfer shops we strode, looking for the beach shorts, and flip flops and t-shirt that would get me through the night....... Stuck a few toesies in the water, then out to her house, which is very nice, a block off the beach.

Forgot to buy coffee. Went to find some first thing this morning, saw a brochure for a glider soaring operation at Dillingham Airfield, which is just a few miles from Pam's house. Thought that might be fun. But, since a purpose of my trip was to go to my company's flight training operation at the former Barber's Point naval air station near Pearl Harbor, I thought it would be a bit of overkill to think about soaring. I'd placed a few calls earlier last week, telling people at the flight training operation that I'd be in town.

Went down to the beach to fly kites and swim. Pam was working on her computer. My baggage had been found, and they were going to deliver it by 1:00 in the afternoon. My phone rang. It was Joe Kina, a flight instructor at Galvin Hawaii whom I'd worked with in Seattle last year. He said he'd be delighted to fly with me later in the week, but was working at his other job. I asked where that was, and he said at the glider soaring operation at Dillingham.

I figured that was too good to pass up, so at 3:00 Pam dropped me off, and Joe and I flew for an hour.

I'll admit to it being about as much fun as I've ever had flying. Fabulous views, real stick and rudder flying, and a fine pilot to show me the ropes.

Joe, if you've read this, thanks my friend. You were amazingly generous, and I can say without hesitation that I'd recommend that every visitor to Hawaii who's ever thought of being a pilot should give you a call.

I chose to start walking home, even though Joe had offered a ride, because i wanted to do some photography. As it turns out, there were a lot of kite-surfers, so I had to pause for some of that....

And then there was just the beauty of the North Shore mountains.

It's been a fine first two days.

More to follow, but check out the photos in any case.

Barnstormers

2008-08-15T08:05:00.000-07:00

Have been spending a lot of time on barnstormers.com looking at aerobatic aircraft.

There's a type called a Pitts, and I was fortunate enough to have had a ride in one some few years ago.

Pretty much every pilot I've ever talked to who's flown a Pitts talks about the skill required to keep it happy on the ground, to keep the spinny thing up front pointing ahead, not backwards.

I can't possibly come up with any real reason why I want one, just that I want one.

Here's a video from a guy who's selling his, and if everybody reading this would just send me their spare change, then sooner or later I'll get to own one.

Early Fall Dawn

2008-08-12T17:31:00.000-07:00

Was thinking this morning as I was heading out how lucky I am to have the morning commute that I have.

I wish I could adequately describe it. Let's start with, take a moment to walk out on the front deck.

Dead calm, low tide, pink and grey sunrise over the back side of Bainbridge Island. Southeast, God's morning message catches the east flanks of Mt. Rainier, glacier peaks glistening in the dawn.

On the water, wingtip whorls from two mergansers water-skimming; you can hear the synchronized wingbeats from two hundred yards until they pass by heading up Rich Passage.

My morning seagull sits on the rocks on the point, watching, no squawking, no noise, just an alert eye turned cautiously my direction. Low from the bay to the south a great blue heron swoops over the point, hovers for a moment, then steps down lightly on the rocks where the sea-otters play. Noticing me he gives his dinosaur screech and heads up Rich Passage too, following the mergansers by a minute.

In the garden, there's quiet stirring; leaves, moist from the dew, stretch toward the warmth; blossoms, hidden overnight begin to greet the day. Tomato plants thirst for sunlight, and strawberries drink dew until lunchtime looms.

But I'm off the deck, and it's been my morning sixty-second refresher. Need to get up ten minutes earlier, but for some reason I don't.

Up to the carport, fire up the motorcycle. Bending to strap on the chaps I catch a glimpse of my neighbor the morning runner. Absolutely buff, absolutely dedicated, absolutely ignoring me for the first two years I've lived here, I've now gotten to the pleasant "good morning' greeting. Slow progress indeed. I love running shorts.

On the bike, slowly into gear, slow on the throttle, for after all I live here, and it won't do to wake anybody if I can help it, though I'm told by another neighbor that even at my quietest he knows when I'm outbound to the ferry for work.

Heading up the hill into the forest land, catching the running neighbor, a wave, a glance in the rear-view mirror, a smile on my face. Around the corner and out of sight, now to the top of the hill and it's the pasture. One cow, two horses, one white, so I do the lucky-fingertip-lick-palm-touch-fist-in-palm gesture I've been doing since I was a child whenever I see a white horse. Hello Mom, long dead. Hello Dad, long dead, wish you were here with me this fine morning. Hope you're happy wherever you are. Thanks for giving me life.

Around the corner by the mailboxes, no dogs up this early to bark their way down the fenceline as they will on my trip home. Reach to the handlebars, grab my coffee mug, slurp quickly while avoiding the bump in the road that's spilled it on me more than once....and down to the first stop sign, by the farmhouse where my firewood for next winter sits piled, waiting for me to pick it up. Chickens are scratching near the barn, and the pigs are snuffling in their pen.

Nobody coming along Beach Drive, as usual, so I pull out, turning left, and accelerate hard through the first two turns, feeling the bike come alive, smashing the choke full forward; she's warm now, and ready to go, and the tires are softening as they should.

On the straight, there's farms, more pasture, more horses, and low fog. Today's the first day of the morning fog; a sure sign that fall's here, that my summer fun is fore-shortened, that I'd best make the best of what's left. Six Canada geese in formation flank me for a few moments up-sun, and I know for certain that fall's arriving. No honking boys, it's early still.

I look for the African camel, and the Asian camel. One hump one, and two humps the second, though I'm not sure which is which, only that they live near my home, content in the Pacific Northwest, and a long way from their desert homes. They share pasture with another white horse; a brief thought for my family long gone, and into the heavy braking for the next set of curves. I'm feeling for the line.

The line's important. If I miss the line, if I'm thinking about work, then it's hard onto the brakes to survive the corner. If I'm in the flow, then no brakes required, using every part of the allotted lane, but never touching the yellow double lines that define where unexpected death lurks. A glance at the rounded back-out-mirror on the high tree on the outside of the corner tells me I'm safe if I did make the double-yellow mistake, but not today. Today I'm flowing, and the line leads me on.

Past the first farm I stopped at the day I found my home. There's an old truck, and a Volvo. I forgive them the Volvo, because they have the truck, and because they were kind to me, welcoming me to Kitsap that first day. Across the road wood-smoke drifts from the chimney, and the massive flat-panel TV is on, the same as it is every morning at this time. Another set of curves coming up quickly, these ones always with gravel from the intersecting road. And later in the fall, black ice from Beaver Creek will get my attention in a hurry if I'm not paying it.

Into the chain-link fuel-depot high-speed quarter-mile curves; the Navy ships will drink well this day, for there's a tanker moored to the docks, waiting to head to sea with the aircraft carrier and nuclear submarine at the base behind me; but that's another morning this fall. The gate guards must hear me coming, must be vaguely amused, but I can't glance to see, because the hard left over the rise hides danger, and maximum alertness is required to hold the line; downshift to fourth, then to third, hard over left, hard over right, heavy acceleration and we're past the muskrat pond, past the sewage treatment plant, and heading into a two stop-sign town. Dogleg left and then right past the two taverns, the barber, the tax-man, the post office, the boat launch. There, over the water, is the Seattle skyline, the Space Needle pointing into the morning fog; grey, purple and blue Cascades in the background beckoning me to work.

Heavy acceleration up the long hill, hugging the double yellows to give me that last second warning of the guys pulling out of their driveways, down to the Mile Hill intersection, with the sand-cliff that hides the oncoming traffic if you choose to run the stop-sign, which I have only done once, and almost died as a penalty....

Glance right, quick left, downhill fast, through the cathedral grove, deep hanging gloom pierced by bounced-yellow rays from the water on the left, heavy downshift and into the left hand corner at 75, over the wooden bridge with a wry thought for the railing, glance at the boat hull mired in the muck upstream, the abandoned storefront, the church with new landscaping, now to the tide-flats, smelling them before I see them, knowing they're going to have high-school kids wakeboarding late in the afternoon when I'm chasing the rest of the motorcycles off the ferry heading home.

But now, nobody, a jogger, a dog-walker, no cars, no school buses, no transit bus. Downshift at another post office for the Harper Pier corner, the cigarettes-are-welcome-here restaurant with the fading for-sale sign, heavy acceleration into the four curves past the baseball field, one last left, and into the roller-coaster hills on the straight to the ferry. Horses stamp in the fog. Cars and bikes in front of me pop up and down like an Ikea Volkswagen ad.

A stop sign, a corner store with fried-chicken and bananas, one last post office, and it's swipe my pass at the ticket window, a quick g'mornin greeting to the ferry worker, a high five to the second ferry worker, and into the lineup of fifty motorcycles who have preferential treatment to board the ferry. Engines silently ticking, we wait the loader's signal to fire up and move-em-out.

It's 5:55 a.m. and my day is launched, and we haven't even gotten to the boat ride yet.

God I love where I live. Thank you.

And Then There Were Two

2008-06-05T10:36:00.000-07:00

How can I explain what's been happening?

Have found somebody who makes me laugh, makes me feel like a million dollars, thinks the way I do, thinks completely differently from the way I do, tells me I'm important to her, gets my heart beating wildly.

We talk every day. Often three or four times. We've talked about music, politics, religion, sex, self-image, relationships, animals, travel, wild ideas and crazy schemes, financial futures, aviation, Alaska, Hawaii, Canada, Washington, and everything in between.

We're talking about a serious commitment to each other and we haven't even met face to face.

Yes, it's true, the Internet has claimed yet another success at introducing strangers.

Her name's Pam. She lives in Honolulu. I live in Seattle. One of us is going to move. I'm the one who's going to move.

When?

As soon as I can manage it.

More to come.

Racing Sports Cars

2008-05-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems that I've found a completely new way to burn money I don't have.

A young friend who works in the automotive business, who drives an older BMW, and who's been lusting after my Z3, told me that there was a practise session last Sunday at the Bremerton Motorsports race track, which is one of the abandoned runways at the Bremerton airport. I've flown over it many times, looking down on the events transpiring, but had never been in the gate until Sunday.

Got there bright and early in the morning, registered in the novice class, and walked the line, looking at the broad array of vehicles. Everything and everybody was represented. It was very cool.

Had the driver's meeting, where we got the safety briefing. Had the tech inspection, where I removed all the extraneous gear, except for the Starbucks cup, and got ready to run.

Walked the course, twice, eavesdropping on the other drivers as they discussed the best line, the best braking techniques, the tire pressures and all those things that I'd been vaguely aware of but had never integrated.

Began to really regret losing the soft leather BMW glove that I had dropped out the door of the car some months ago, and which I've not yet replaced....

Walked way out onto the track sides and became a course worker, watching the first grid of cars work their way through the cones. Found out how easy it is to be distracted, and how simple it might be for a course worker to be killed. Watched some cool cone runovers, watched some spinouts, watched some fine driving.

Then it was my turn.

Sat at the start, took a deep breath, visualized the first five gates, stomped on the gas, stomped on the brakes, swerved and skidded, missed all the cones, didn't miss any of the gates and posted a pathetic 78 seconds when the big boys were running 65's. But it got better from there, to 75, then 70, then mid sixties and down. Meanwhile, the big boys were running high 50's, so I was still a consistent five to eight seconds slow. However, that's just fine with me, as I was learning all the time.

And, I sat in the sun, had some fun, burned some rubber off my new tires, felt like a true participant, and it didn't cost much at all.

I'll be back....

Full Moonrise At The Shack

2008-05-19T16:23:00.000-07:00

It's an interesting dilemma. I can never seem to get all the resources, people, time, and luck, together at the same time. In pretty much every circumstance, I seem to have three of the four. Now, that's a pretty good batting average, so this is not in the nature of a complaint. But just once in my life I'd like to have all four ducks lined up....that's not too much to ask, is it?

Take last night, for instance.

Full moon, scheduled. Weather, which has been crap for so long that fleeting thoughts of suicide/homicide were'nt easily laughed off; not really, but you get my drift....Seattle's weather this winter has been horrid. Anyway, the weather this past weekend was HOT, and everybody had themselves outside for a tan.

Now I, having managed myself poorly during the week, found that I had to go to the office, to complete a bid that should have been done by Friday afternoon, and was due in Hanoi at dinner Sunday night....

Rode the bike over to Seattle, then home, to a lovely evening on the deck. But, moonrise was obscured by a haze, drifting in over Rich Passage. And, and this is the point, I was alone. There was no lovely woman sitting with me to enjoy the calm of the evening.

And a lovely evening it was. The kind of evening where arrowheads of geese and mergansers skim across the water, wingtips not touching but wingbeats causing little vortex ripples on the water....and you can hear the noise of the wings thrumming. Amazing.

There IS a lovely woman, and she's no where near Seattle. So instead of sitting with her on the deck, I sat with her on the phone, which is the next best thing, but so far behind first place as to be invisble....

More on the lovely woman as I get to know her better.....

But for now, here's the photos I took for her, to show her what we were sharing....

Musical Fantasies

2008-05-03T17:22:00.001-07:00

So it finally happened that today I found somebody to play music with. It was amazing.

Through a mutual group of friends I had met Nancy a few years ago. Once she had given me a CD, of John Martyn, and I'd liked it. I'd liked it in the seventies too.

Lately, whenever I've run into Nancy she had suggested some music I might want to listen to. And today her husband and family allowed her to take the afternoon off and come over to my house and play guitar and sing songs.

Now, that's more or less normal. Aging rock-star wannabees. But, it was FUN! And, we instantly hit it off musically. She plays guitar at about the same level as I do, which is to say at a minimum we're fairly competent finger-pickers, and we both have a musical ear, so we can find tunes almost immediately. And there's that certain sort of musical chemistry that allows us to fall into harmonies instantly, no preparation, just right after the first four beats.

It was magic for me, and I hope for her. I've been waiting thirty years for this.

So, we put together some basic tunes, found that we could perform well together, and now we've got a musical future out in front of us that looks like a ton of fun.

More to come.

Here she is sitting by my fireplace..

Thanks to her husband and children for the trust, and the afternoon.

Instrument Rated

2008-01-31T08:29:00.000-08:00

Right, and who would ever have believed that I would hold an instrument rating? For the longest time, not I.

There'd been many a delay, most all of which were related to the possibility of ice in clouds. I did NOT want to be a pilot killed by icing, and more reasonably I did NOT want to be a pilot who, upon lifting off the runway on his checkride, discovered the examiner jotting a note on a page and turning to me saying something like "you may return to the airport, you've taken off into known icing conditions contrary to the regulations in......" or something like that. It's happened to other guys.

So, the morning of the eighth scheduled checkride dawned clear, cold, and not a cloud in the sky, the same way as it had been for about three days. I knew that this would be my lucky day. So, I was up well before dawn, and on a ferry heading for Boeing Field. And checked my email. To discover I was being dumped....

Not the most auspicious start to the day, but best for the both of us, that's for certain. And maybe it WAS good luck. Not yet sure.

Got to work, ride scheduled for 1:00 pm, having learned the lesson about morning flights. Had a phone call from the designated pilot examiner, with whom I'd built a very friendly relationship during the previous seven cancellations, whether they'd been in person or on the phone..... He told me he was in LA, but would be back by lunch, probably at Boeing Field a bit late, maybe 1:30. No problem.

Imagine then my surprise as, while out on the ramp pre-flighting at least an hour in advance of the scheduled time I heard a voice saying "there's reports of a cloud in Oregon, so we're going to cancel due to icing, right?". Nice sense of humor there boyo. Got me laughing, and nudged me in the ribs for my caution.

But, caution is what keeps pilots alive, and I have no need to apologize for the cancellations.

Ride went just fine. Hate it when you look over and see the examiner jotting notes, but they were all minor points, things he most definitely wanted to point out in the de-brief, but not ball-busters.

It's a wonderful thing, to know that now I have a chance to fly with the big boys.

Very grateful to my flight instructor David Cowan, my DPE Johnny Summers, and to all the people at Galvin Flying who helped and encouraged me, as well as to my pilot buddies Mark, Christine, Steve, Rob, Scobie and all the others who understand how important this is to me.

Maybe Seventh Time Lucky?

2008-01-15T05:10:00.000-08:00

So, I've been playing at working on my instrument rating. In the late summer, I was getting ready, but aircraft availability and instructor issues meant that I cancelled my checkride. In the late fall I went at it with some diligence, and finally got to the point where a CFI signed me off for the checkride.

That was six attempts ago. All cancelled due to icing and crappy weather. I'm getting discouraged, and feel like there's never going to be the right day. But, January 22nd is the seventh scheduled day.

Made it through the oral, but it expires after 60 days, so I'm running out of time.

I'll let you know.

Finally, The Accident

2007-10-31T08:04:00.000-07:00

It started off like any morning. Drag my sorry ass out of bed at 4:45, get down on my knees and say hello to God and the world, then pad on off to the bathroom, flip the coffee pot on, fire up the furnace, and scramble into the shower. Iron the shirt, fire up the bacon and egg, swill the coffee, grab all the gear, load up the motorcycle, wriggle into the leathers, then into the foul-weather gear, and head for the ferry.

6:05 ferry out of Southworth, noisy, steamy, and after a stop at Vashon we arrived at Fauntleroy at 6:50 or so. Then it's up the hill, over to Roxbury, and down the hill near Myers Way on the back side of West Seattle. I'd left a lot of room between me and the next guy. It was still dark of course.

And what I didn't really pay attention to was the carpet of yellow maple leaves. So, in the rain, and needing to put on the rear brakes, I fished once, fished twice, and slammed down hard on the right side.

The next few minutes were interesting. Actually, the next few days were interesting.

Here's the list of good fortune...... I was wearing a helmet, and when my head hit, the helmet protected me. Else, I'd be a vegetable today. I was wearing the leathers, and the raingear, else my skin would be all over the road. I was far enough away from the guy in front of me that I didn't slide into him. I did NOT slide into the oncoming traffic. The woman behind me was far enough behind me that SHE was able to stop. And, I have motorcycle insurance (not required in WA) and medical coverage as a result of my job.

Here's the list of bad decisions..... I had worn my multi-tool on my right hip, and landed on it, thereby causing the world's largest bruise with a white Leatherman imprint in the center.....I had been so concerned about getting to the sales meeting that I had forgotten about the leaves.......

And here's the list of good decisions.....When the policewoman asked me if I'd like to go to the hospital, and having banged myself pretty badly, I thought that would be a good idea. So, even though I had been standing talking to them, they strapped me to the backboard, loaded me into the ambulance, and took me to The Zoo, their name for Harborview, which is the critical care hospital near Boeing Field.

And that's where the gratitude really started to kick in. After I had been X-Rayed and CAT scanned, but before I had been released from observation an accident victim was brought into the emergency room and placed on the bed adjacent to me. He'd been changing a truck tire in the shop he works for, and it had exploded on him. The injuries were blunt force trauma and brutal. He had a compound fracture of the leg, compound fracture of his clavicle, and blunt trauma injuries to his abdomen. And, in order for the staff to repair these, they had to re-insert them into his body, which is basically torture. And, they needed a urine sample, and inserting a catheter into one's penis I now fully understand as torture also. For about an hour they tortured him while I sat there listening and thanking God that it wasn't me, and that I was going to be OK.

An hour or so later, I walked out of the hospital, walked down the hill to gather my wits, then took a taxi back to the motorcycle, which suffered only minor scrapes and damage, and got on it, and rode it home, then spent the entire rest of the day in bed.

So much worse this could have been.

So, I blamed it on the new rear tire which had a different, harder compound, but after a while I came to realize that it really was the leaves, and not the tire. But, I'm still a bit reluctant to ride quite as hard as I had been, and at my age that's probably a good thing.

Thanks,
JW

More Motorcycle Stuff

2007-09-24T14:02:00.000-07:00

So, you'd think I'd have learned the lesson by now, right? Nahhhh, brain dead apparently.

Bike had been reluctantly turning over when I pushed the starter button. Struggled to turn, then kind of revved up. In retrospect of course it was a starter issue, but what did I know. It took me right up to the moment it died, on a Monday morning in a ferry lineup. You know, one of those kinds of days where you're hoping to get a great jumpstart on the week by showing up at the office all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?

OK, so they let me push start it to get it on the ferry, then it worked (thank you) for the exit. Worked at work, kept it running to get on the ferry, and then asked them to park me at the top of the ramp in case it didn't start on the exit at Southworth, which it didn't. Ran it down the ramp, rode it home, and put it to bed for a week or two.

Finally got the energy and time, got down on my knees and belly, and figured out how to remove the starter. After all that time, THEN I Googled it and found the instructions, since the manual I have was pretty cryptic about it all. Sort of "loosen the bolts and slide it out", forgetting conveniently the part about "loosen the entire exhaust system, remove the exhaust manifold, remove the stud bolt from the exhaust manifold flange, and then carefully extract the starter while the entire bike is on the side stand not the center stand, so that the chain gear does not fall down irretrievably into the crankcase....."

EBay supplied the starter rebuild kit. I removed the brush cap, determined it was the brushes, replaced them, tested it on the bench, reinstalled it with MUCH difficulty (note the starter gear internal alignment issue that is the reason it was to be disassembled on the side stand) , and it ran wonderfully for ten starts. Then, nothing.

Open it again, this time removing the field coils to determine that the internal contact on the positive electrode has broken off; figured I'm in for a penny, so brazed the contact back on, re-assembled and re-installed the starter, only to have it not work at all, even after the bench test confirmed it working.

Push-started the bike, drove around for ten miles, re-tried the starter, it worked like a charm, each and every attempt.

So, fueled the bike up, and went to leave the gas station on the way for a Sunday ride and?

The clutch cable broke.

Walked a block to the WalMart, bought a cheap vise-grip, clamped the cable-end to the clutch handle, and nursed the bike home..... Jumped in the sports car, drove 125 miles to the dealer (round trip, Port Orchard to Tacoma to Lynnwood return...) and finally got the new cable installed late last night.

Apparently it works. And, with the new rear tire, we're actually confident about leaning into a turn and seeing what will happen.

Yippee, my commuting times just dropped by one and one half hours daily, and the cost just dropped by 2/3. Ya gotta love motorcycles.

So, I bought a new engine for $100 bucks, just to have a spare, AND the guy delivered it right to my back door.

USS Seawolf

2007-07-29T13:38:00.000-07:00

This is the Coast Guard vessel guarding Rich Passage for the passage of the USS Seawolf into Bremerton last weekend.

Volleyball Girls Alki Beach

2007-07-29T10:12:00.001-07:00

Saw some young women playing, asked to photograph, said yes, here they are.

A Little Cross Country

2007-07-05T10:23:00.000-07:00

Finally got a chance to fly across the country in a small airplane.

Picked up a brand-new Diamond DA20 Eclipse from the factory in London, Ontario, which is about sixty miles inside the Canadian border near Detroit, MI.

It was all pretty spontaneous, asking my boss on Wednesday if I could do the delivery, flying out to London on Thursday, and starting the return flight early Friday morning.

DA20 Cross Country

While at the London Airport, at the Diamond Delivery Center, I saw a woman and her daughter hanging on the airport fence, looking longingly at a departing B737, where obviously a beloved family member was leaving. Took some photos, sent them to her. I'd forgotten how significant the impact of separation can be on families. It was a good reminder that for some of us flying is not the wonderful thing I think it is, but is something that can bring pain.

Got around the bottom of Lake Michigan, into Kankakee, IL, without incident. Scud running is the term for working your way under a cloud layer, trying to find clear sky. Had weather reports of severe clear 40 miles ahead, which turned out to be true. Spent the rest of that day dropping in to various small airports, refueling, refreshing, and heading out to the Pacific Northwest.

Stayed over in Rapid City, SD, near the badlands, then headed out the next day over the desert, through the mountain passes, back over the next desert, and finally to arrive at Boeing Field early Saturday evening.

It was about eight years ago when my friend Mark encouraged me to get back into flying. I'd taken lessons many years earlier. He is my aviation mentor, and so you can understand how interesting and meaningful it was to me to be handed off by the Seattle Center controller to the Boeing Field tower, only to hear the tower clear me for landing behind a Cessna 180, whose tail number and pilot I recognized as Mark. What're the odds that I'll fly two thousand miles across the majority of the country, only to wind up in the traffic pattern behind my good friend and mentor?

Anyway, 18.9 flight hours into the logbook, and some great stories. Wish the photographs were good, but I was kinda busy. One of the outstanding images is the Anaconda Copper Mine at Butte Montana, where the water color was so turquoise that you could taste it.

Would do that trip any time.

There's NOTHING about Orlando.....

2007-06-14T14:11:00.000-07:00

There's nothing about Orlando that I like, with the possible exception of the ride where you can fly in the blast of a propellor, and practise your skydiving technique. And this time here I didn't take advantage of it.

Orlando is the living manifestation of the results of the American Dream. It's good, I suppose, for many. There's happy families, no doubt about it. There's moms dragging little kids up and down the streets, and there's kids with smiles on their faces.

But Lord, help us, everybody's fat. Everybody's fat. Did I mention that we're all fat? There's not one person who meets the ideal of fitness. At least, not that I saw.

And excess? Take the hotel I stayed at, for instance. Spanish Colonial is the style. Maybe 1500 rooms. Maybe a few hundred manicured acres. Thousands of happy conventioneers milling around. Bazillions of dollars changing hands it feels like.

And not a thought to the amount of conspicuous consumption going on. What a relief I'll feel to get on the plane and be done with Orlando.

Nice place, wouldn't wanna live there.

Ahh Port Orchard

2007-06-07T18:23:00.000-07:00

Been a long time since the last posting. Not for lack of things to say, as anybody who is vaguely acquainted with me will be only too glad to tell you.

No, it's because I've been so busy enjoying my new home.

I've discovered the joys of gardening, and playing the odds. The odds being, if I buy and plant ten growing things, there's at least some chance that by the end of the summer something will be growing and thriving.

The operating theory has been to pay no particular attention to the design of the garden, the placement of each bulb or plant, annual or perrenial. That is, no attention has been paid with ONE notable exception.

It is, of course, a story.

Many years ago, my wife and our children and I lived in a waterfront home in Woodlands, BC. at the middle of Indian Arm. Faced east, beautiful sunrises and daylight sunshine, evening shade. We had a glorious rose bush out on the front of the lawn, facing the beach and the water. And, living down the beach was the chief horticulturist for the Stanley Park Rose Garden, a world renowned facility. One day he strolled up and asked me for a cutting, because the rose impressed him with it's late season flowering and beauty.

A year later, I asked him about it. He said it was nice, but not superb, and I finally figured out why. It wasn't the genetics, it was the environment, getting reflected light off the water, particularly in the fall with the sun being low on the horizon.

So, I've planted a Lincoln rose out on the tiniest point that sticks out in the channel, which gets the maximum amount of light, sunrise to sunset. And, playing the odds, it was the single profuse ly sprouting cutting of the five I'd planted. Three failed to sprout at all, and the other struggles to survive. But really, all I care about is the Lincoln rose.

So now I have a bistro table and two chairs sitting out on the point, with a beautiful rose bush and a view to die for of Mt. Rainier across the island. Missing only the beautiful woman, whom I've actually met, just need to become friends. Met her across a volleyball net last weekend. We'd actually met online, had decided that we'd like to meet in person, and with no previous knowledge that we'd both be at the volleyball game, I recognized her from her photo and said hello.

So, Friday we dine together. And perhaps some day in the future, morning coffee on the point with roses on the table from the Lincoln cutting.

Magic Hangars

2007-03-30T09:38:00.000-07:00

So there I was, sitting in the office, looking up at the sky and thinking, "Geez, it would be great if....." when all of a sudden along came a pilot and the next thing I knew I was in a Diamond Twin Star flying over to Spokane on an instrument flight plan, me in the left seat as if I knew what I was doing.....

And in fact I did. I've been blessed with a significant amount of Twin Star simulator time at the company I work for, coming in very early in the morning to figure out just how to fly it according to the book. So, when I got it airborne and climbing, headed roughly in the right direction, I got a chance to ask the PIC (pilot in command) to help me work my way through all the decision making for the flight.

So off we went, he not concerned at all, as he'd been a freight dog, flying equipment far less capable than the Twin Star, and I not concerned too much either, though I wanted to stay well ahead of the airplane mentally, which is the primary task for an instrument pilot.

Shot the approach into the airport, Felts Field, which is not the current Spokane International airport, but was once, in the heyday of aviation before and during the Second World War.

Now, the purpose of the trip was for the PIC to show the airplane to a prospective customer, and I'd agreed to hang out in the cafe which every airport has, waiting until the demonstration flight was over. But, the airplane's so beautiful that the moment you land and taxi to a stop, pilots come out of the woodwork and saunter across the ramp for a chat. Since that's the whole purpose of the exercise, we were soon engaged with answering the questions......"is that the diesel version...?" (Yes), "what's the fuel burn..?" (Nine gallons per hour, total) etc.

So, the prospect showed up, they went flying, and there I was, sitting on a bench at the Art Deco airport, chatting with a young man from the FAA who seemed to have some time on his hands, when along came one of those pilots we'd been talking to who asked "do you guys have a half hour, I've got something to show you....?" and we jumped in his car, drove around the back side of the runway, to a magic hangar.

Why magic, I hope you might be asking....?

Well, because inside this hangar was what every pilot would give his left.........overs for, the only existing example of a Boeing Model 40 biplane open cockpit mail plane. It will be, when it's finished, the oldest Boeing aircraft flying.

Built some time before the start of the Second World War, in the late 1930's, it crashed three months afterward, and sat on a mountainside in ruins until this family purchased it and began the long restoration. It's obvious that it's a labor of love, and equally obvious that vast quantities of cash have been required to get to where it is at this moment.

The pictures will tell the story.

But, when we were done in that hangar, the grandson of the founder of the family aviation addiction showed us the next hangar over, and sure enough, there were two more biplanes, one a greatly modified Stearman in navy colors, and the other another mail plane whose manufacturer I don't recall. These were to die for.

On the flight home, I sat there monitoring computers onscreen, with a purple line showing me just where I was, and where I was to go. Descending through the clouds, where there's danger from ice building up on the wings, I pushed a button and de-icing fluid started weeping backwards from the leading edges, eliminating the dangerous buildup.

Now, I don't know how the mail plane actually crashed, but I can tell you that pilots flying in the Cascade mountains died in droves because of icing and being lost, and it was the mail pilots in particular who paid the price, one at least in that very airplane.

So, I said a little prayer of thanks, that I was able to fly, that I was able to fly such a magnificent machine as the Twin Star, and that I was able to see the Boeing 40 come back to fly some day with another pilot, maybe even me....

As a friend says at the end of every e-mail......

Lift!

Spring, Dammit!

2007-03-23T15:02:00.000-07:00

I should be so lucky as to have made it this far through this unspeakable winter.

All I want now is to have a few days in the sun. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so.

Working harder than ever before, and having more fun with it. The company I work for is undergoing lots of changes, some of which are so exciting that I wish I could shout them out to the rooftops. Actually, I will, just as soon as there's a bit more certainty in the changes.

As for me, well, the weight I've gained precludes me from flying Cessna 150's, but that's ok, I'm kind of a Diamond guy now anyway. Have been having a blast with my instrument rating, and have been, true to form, ducking the written test, always coming up with some excuse or other. But, it'll happen, and happen it must, soon.

Some great fun has been had with the new car, and I am dreaming of those spring days with the top down. In the meantime, sliding back and forth to work on the motorcycle and waiting, waiting, waiting.....

Photography has been a bunch of fun. Here's some random shots....

Nothing Like A Sports Car To Keep A Guy Happy

2007-02-04T21:14:00.000-08:00

And broke, of course.

It's been a long winter of vehicle issues. First, the motorcycle, then the van, then the motorcycle, then the van, etc.. Seemed like the trendline was continuously negative. So often I found myself wasting a weekend with wrenches in my hands and grease everywhere else.

Well, it wasn't wasted. Let's be honest here, I had a ton of fun. But, spring's just around the corner, and I wanted a toy I guess. So, last Saturday I decided to take the bike and head over to an auto dealer who had been advertising a car that looked like I might like it.

One thing leading to another, we wrote the deal, and now I am the proud borrower of a 1998 BMW Z3 sports car. Teal green, or hunter green, I'm not sure. It's not British Racing Green, I can be sure of that, because it's German, and in any case I saw an MGB on the ferry last week which WAS British Racing Green, and mine's much darker.

Tan leather interior, all in good shape. Big six cylinder engine, five speed manual transmission, low and fat tires, great stereo system, analog gauges for an old-timer like me (got lots of fancy computer screens in the airplanes, so don't need more in the car...).

I am FULLY engaged in my late-middle-age crisis, and loving every bit of it. The roads around here are ideal for sports cars. They're basically in good shape, but twist and wind around obstacles instead of bulldozing through them. Lots of hills, lots of valleys, lots of curves, nothing in the way of traffic, no traffic lights, not too many stop signs, no pedestrians, a few motorcycles and bicycles, and best of all, not a police officer in sight. But I DID budget for that first, very expensive, speeding ticket. Just hope it doesn't happen for a little while.

So, the morning commute is basically an exercise in precision high-speed driving, at least as far as the ferry lineup. Then it's sit and wait of course, but it's worth it.

Now, I'm going to go looking for a used WaveRunner, and that way I'll be able to commute across the pond without the intermediate step of a car or a motorcycle. I figure I'll be able to drop it in the drink in front of the house off a winch, and then run it right up the Duwamish River next to Boeing Field, then just use a motorcycle or bicycle that I leave at the marina to go the last mile or two to work. That's the plan, we'll see what happens.

Then, some time, a Cessna 140 to be left at the grass strip airport near the house here. That way it'll be a sports car ride to the airport, a quick flight, tie it down right outside my office door, and walk in to work.

Life, at the moment, is a bunch of fun.

Be well, look forward to spring, live it like you want to.

Godspeed USS John C. Stennis

2007-01-16T16:52:00.000-08:00

One of the most amazing things happened today. An aircraft carrier put out to sea, and she sailed right past my front door. If you click on the photograph below, you'll see the photos I took of this amazing ship.

Now, whether my politics are in support of, or contrary to, the war in Iraq, I am still impressed by the awesome size and power of a nuclear aircraft carrier passing an hundred yards in front of my house. And I wish safety and blessings and wisdom on her crew, for their sensible conduct and safe return.

A few days earlier, a nuclear attack submarine slipped out to sea. I have to presume that she is part of the carrier battle group, provisioned and ready, heading out to check the approaches for hostile intentions from other ships and navies.

Standing on the beach, watching the bow of the Stennis coming around the point was amazing. Bow, more bow, still more bow, and finally a bridge, followed by yet more ship. You got this frightening feeling that here in front of you was 3500 people heading into harm's way, two functioning nuclear reactors, God knows how many missiles, bombs, and millions of gallons of JetA, as well as any other nuclear weapons they might have on board. Pretty scary stuff. Hope it works, but I'm struck by wondering whether this is the right weapon for the situation at hand.

Ah well, these things are beyond my ability to make sense of them. In any case, God speed you all, and a safe return to your families and loved ones.

And a prayer for the families of those who will be harmed by you.

God Bless The Neighbors

2007-01-13T19:59:00.000-08:00

Mid January here, and snowed in.

Well, not quite anymore, but surely it's been a very interesting few weeks. You'd think after the windstorm a month ago that whom/whatever's in charge would say something like "OK, well, I've trashed Seattle, let's move on to.... (fricking near anywhere else would do....)" but instead, in an amazing display of bad humor, the skies opened again, and this time it was just snow.

I, being a pilot, should likely be paying attention to the weather. On the other hand, I haven't flown in months, because I'm busting the bank, and because I'm studying in a simulator, not the real airplane, but that's another story in any case.

In any case, this time it was snow. And I, not paying attention to the weather, happened to choose that particular evening to drive down the I-5 to Tacoma, and then over the Narrows Bridge (successor to Galloping Gertie) through Gig Harbor to Port Orchard, and home. It was a test. Would the van work? Would I get stuck in rush-hour traffic? Would the drive around the bottom take less time than waiting in a ferry lineup? How much gas would I burn? I was basically exploring my options other than the ferry.

And of course, the moment I got on to the Narrows Bridge, it started to snow. And snow harder. And harder. So that, a few minutes later, I was thinking "well you old fat fool, you've gone and put yourself into a 'skid off the fricking road and spend the night in a ditch...' kind of situation'. Except that, through sheer good fortune, and having had thirty five years of driving in snow experience, I was able to weasel my way home, creeping up the last big hill over the ridge and down the road through the forest to my wonderful little waterfront shack.

And even the next morning, I got lucky....got out in the fresh new-fallen snow, and headed in to work. So, coming home that night my mind wasn't really on the last hill, until I saw all the neighbors abandoned cars littering the main road.

Of course, being Canadian, I had to give the hill at least the old bar-room try. Fortunately didn't get my ass stuck, or slam into the pickup truck on the side, but I did have to get out and push the van sideways so I wouldn't slam into him. It was easy however.

Hiked up the hill, over the ridge, down through the forest, along the waterfront, and made it home. There's a certain charm to hiking through a pitch-dark forest on a winter night with a flashlight battery running down. You try not to whistle, try not to imagine the ghosts and goblins or axe murderers leaping out at you, let alone the wolves and demons. But, you do.

Fortunately the weekend arrived, so no need to go to work. And, Saturday morning, the neighbor two doors down stopped by, said he'd seen my van, could he help, and we got into his truck, fetched the van, got it back to the carport, and started in on the transmission shifter repair.

Oh, I hadn't mentioned that? Well, first snow morning when I moved the shift lever, something went SNAP. "OK, God, I know it's a test, but why me, why now, ....."

Need to keep in perspective that it's a TINY test relative to most other people, so, I'll get it fixed somehow.

But the closest neighbor came over, figured out what was wrong, and together we dismantled it. So, for the moment, I'm shifting by pulling a cable under the dash. Primitive, but it works.

Hate bank loans, but suppose it's time to go make car payments again.

Ah well.

Life's good.

Merry Christmas

2006-12-25T19:37:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas to all, and I hope you have a wonderful new year too.

I've been blessed this year, with friends, a new home, a job that holds great prospects. So, I'm thankful tonight. I wish I were spending the evening with my children, but that's not in the cards. Maybe next year.

Thanksgiving weekend the motorcycle decided to quit. Five full working days, a bunch of time on EBay, and a whole new relationship with my neighbor, and I had it back working. Sort of

The windstorm that took out power for one million people in Seattle got my house too, and it was five days before it was back. But, fortunately, I'd purchased a generator years ago, and when I moved here I asked my friend Mark to bring it back from his summer home where it's been resting for the past few years. So, it made it to Ballard on Wednesday. I didn't pick it up then, and really hadn't been paying attention to the weather forecasts, so Thursday lost power, and Friday, trying to pick it up in the van, was the day the van decided to quit working.

Not to be denied, I took the now functioning motorcycle and loaded the generator on it, and survived the next three days in better form than a whole ton of other less fortunate persons. But, no shower, so I did stay with my friend Rob, and I owe him a vote of thanks for that.

Got the van towed back to the house, since it’s not worth paying a shop to fix it, and besides, I need to know about auto mechanics before I die…..served a firelight dinner to my friend Thom and his wife Mona who helped tow it back, then got up the next morning at 4:00 am and rode the bike across the mountains to Port Angeles, caught the 8:00 ferry and spent the day with my beautiful daughter Jillian on her 18^th birthday. We had lunch in a restaurant that used to be a hangout of mine when I lived in Victoria many years ago, then I toured the University which she attends, then caught the ferry back to Port Angeles for another night-time winter motorcycle ride back to a freezing cold home……

Got some fairly nice photographs of Victoria. And some of my daughter.

Anyway, life’s an adventure, and the past six weeks have just been one of those things, stuff breaking down, getting fixed, and moving on. Glad to be alive, can’t wait to see what 2007 has in store.

Regards,

Jeremy

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

2006-11-29T09:12:00.000-08:00

Well, I started to write a post about Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance this morning, on my laptop. It was even fairly cleverly written, but being done directly on the Blogger screen. So, when this flaming piece of shyte from Microsoft crashed again, for the n’th time in the past week, I was pretty pissed off.

But, of course, the whole item was about the lessons being taught by machines. Apparently I’m in dire need of a lot of lessons these days, as life is full of machines malfunctioning, and personal relationships from the past that I’d love to repair that seem beyond salvage.

Speaking of salvage, I’ve got a 1978 Honda Goldwing that up until a few months ago I loved with all my heart. Now I look at it with wry affection.

Robert Pirsig wrote Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance in the sixties I believe. It achieved the same certain sort of success that the Motorcycle Diaries movie did recently. It wasn’t at all about motorcycles, but that was the framework of his book.

One of my brothers is a journalist, and he’d interviewed Pirsig. I’d read the book, and thirty years later the only thing I can remember is that he was working on a BMW, and the front forks needed a shim. You could buy it from BMW for high cost. It was aluminum, of a certain thickness. I think it had a knurled top on it. Or, you could carrot-top a beer can and, as it happened, that was precisely the same materials and dimensions as the BMW part.

Form over function, or function over form? Which part would YOU choose.

Now obviously, if I’m riding a thirty year old bike, it’s possible that I’m just an afficianado, or it’s more likely that I ride it because that’s what I can afford.

So, when my daily commute goes awry because the bike malfunctions, I’ve been faced with some decisions. Put the freaking thing away in the bottom of Puget Sound, maybe by pushing it off a ferry late some night? Or, get down into the guts of the thing and figure it out.

That's all well and good, but have you ever been in a carport down on your knees with wrenches while it's a howling blizzard? I moved my old woodstove out there for psychological support, because it surely doesn't contribute any heat, but at least the snow's not on my head....

More to come, gotta run

Happiest Fireside

2006-10-19T20:10:00.000-07:00

Finally, a home to love.

This fine chilly October evening I'm sitting by the fire in my beach shack; ok, it's not mine, but it's mine to use and live in.....

Waterfront. I lived there once, many years ago, when my children were young. And, so was I, for that matter.

And now, again, the same place, but different. This time, Port Orchard Washington, instead of North Vancouver British Columbia. But, there's the same knotty pine interior, a front porch with a fabulous view, a never-ending marine scene, in this case the US Navy, including aircraft carriers, and the Coast Guard, moving right past the front door, and my spiritual totem, a Great Blue Heron, the eminence grise of my former life.

And here's me, alone, but happy. Motorcycle in carport, van in carport, tools in toolshop, photo studio about to be set up in the spare bedroom, and wireless access on my laptop courtesy of my Blackberry.

And the kayak's out on the brick side patio waiting for spring, and the boat plans are posted on the shop wall.

No nosy neighbors, no fire engines, no traffic, a dead end lane, and I LOVE IT!!!!!!

More, much more, to come.

Decisions, Decisions

2006-10-07T15:13:00.000-07:00

The best memories are the ones you can't refresh by looking at a photograph. I'm sorry to say that that's true.

Sorry, because last night I was able to create a fresh new memory that I'd swear is going to last a long time.

It's of course an aviation memory.

Unexpectedly, a customer needed to get down to Bend, OR, and he chartered an aircraft from us. That aircraft, a Beechcraft Bonanza, has a large enough passenger load that the charter pilot, who also happens to be my instrument instructor, asked me along, so that I could get some instruction in the real world of IFR on the way home.

So, I sat in the rear on the trip down, while the customer flew and my instructor helped him, as he too had never flown that particular type, though he has many hours in similar aircraft.

The trip down was delightful, and uneventful. We stopped off for a sugar fix at the FBO, filed a return flight plan, and took off.

This was my first Bonanza flight, and sitting left seat I'd spent about fifteen minutes making myself familiar with the panel. I've spent a lot of time in a simulator with this instructor, and it is, though not identical, a similar layout, with similar equipment. I was actually perhaps a bit more current with the GPS, but I think that's just my vanity talking.

Anyway, to the memory. All flights are wonderful, but this one in particular was great. We climbed to 11,000', then asked for VFR on top at 11,500'. Below us was a perfect white cloud layer, about 9000' Heading north to the Olympia VOR, I had the great pleasure of being faced with two choices.

To my left, the Pacific Ocean, with a brilliant red sun setting behind the cloud layer. And to my right, a perfect full moon rising behind Mount Rainier. At one moment the moon was perched perfectly right on top the mountain, like a shining white ball balanced on the tip.

And my cameras? Left behind for weight and balance considerations for the trip south.....

Ah well, the images are burned on my mental flash drive.....

Changes in Latitudes

2006-10-01T19:59:00.000-07:00

It was all to do with a motorcycle ride.

I needed to get it fixed, and one of the guys I'm lucky to have as a resource lives on the Peninsula. I of course slept in late the morning I was supposed to have gotten my butt over to his house, and, arriving at the ferry just as it was leaving the dock, and failing to have his phone number I really had blown it. He really had set aside a limited amount of time, and I'd not shown up during that window...

However, I asked him to recommend a good ride, and the net result was that I found a great little house that I'm going to move into.

Now, my good friend Mark has advised me that I'd be best to discipline myself, and not choose the house.

Thanks Mark, I tried to listen, really, I did....

Instead, I'm moving in a few weeks, and am excited as hell. In order to make the move, I've got to generate more income, and that's going to take a lot of my time. But, I've started, and some of the photographs I've been taking recently may hold the key to it. In any case, here's some photos of the house, and the view, and in the winter I'll be spending a lot of time getting the workshop ready, and getting the kayak ready to push off the front lawn and into the drink.

I'll be back in touch.

Righty Then, Take Out The Camera Jeremy

2006-09-11T21:35:00.000-07:00

So, it turns out that the motorcycle trip was not at ALL what I'd planned. What a surprise....

In any case, in some ways it was even better, but the damndest thing happened. My impatience got the better of me, and I didn't stop at all to take photos, even though I had the camera in a wonderful little backpack in the luggage carrier.

You see, I was either riding the bike, enjoying the scenery rushing past at near-light speed, or I was flying a kite, or wandering down the beach with a kite in my hand, or sitting at a restaurant, or setting up my tent, or doing my laundry, or......

So, the only photos I got were of the tall ships at Westport. Here.

And, later, after returning to Seattle, some delightful photos of fine young ladies playing volleyball on Labor Day.

The story? Well, it all starts in a fog really...

Volleyball Labor Day

2006-08-30T19:00:00.000-07:00

It's a hard thing to resist, photographing beautiful young girls. Sorry, know it's not appropriate to say that in some circles, but there you have it.

Here's a group of people who were playing at Golden Gardens one Labor Day, and whom I finally contacted through one of the players when I met him at Alki another day. He's not stupid...

Off Motorcycling

2006-08-16T21:22:00.000-07:00

Going to be doing a bit of a ride in the next few days/week or so. Have decided that, given my incident of last weekend, and given that I'd already booked next week off, I'm going to jump on the old Goldwing and head down the Oregon coast.

I think I'm going to pack a tent, some camping gear, a few nice cameras, and maybe this laptop, plus a full selection of Prism kites, and then head for the beaches. Top that off with some suntan lotion, a few pairs of shorts and a bathing suit, and I think I'll be set for the week.

Will probably do a loop, heading inland in Southern Oregon and then coming up the two states inside the mountains, in the high desert country. That will give me an opportunity to stop off in the Horse Heaven Hills and photograph the Mustang II, talk to the farmer who might deliver it over to Seattle for me, and do some measuring and analysis.

Can't wait, and will try to make some postings enroute.

It Had To Happen Some Day

2006-08-16T21:16:00.000-07:00

Well, it finally happened. I bent some aluminum.

As always, with any accident/incident, there's a number of causes. Fortunately, it did NOT happen in the air, nor did it happen with an engine running, or the aircraft moving. It happened when my foot slipped, and I slammed to the ground while mounting/dismounting an aircraft on display at the Museum of Flight.

It was last Saturday, and I'd been there all day, working at the Aerobatics day. Getting off the right wing of the Zlin 242 I slipped, and slammed down full body weight on the right flap, tin canning it immediately.

Our sheet metal guys tell me that it's not damage that can't be repaired. And, there's some issues with re-rigging the flap, so on balance I got off pretty lucky. And of course, there's insurance, so I won't, fortunately, have to write a massive check. But I'm still mortified, and have replayed the incident over and over and over again in my mind.

Wish I could say that it hadn't happened, but it did, and that's that. And thank you to all the people who immediately asked me how I was, whether I'd been hurt myself. No, just my pride.

In The Pits

2006-08-07T14:02:00.000-07:00

What a weekend, starting with hanging out with the Blue Angels for a morning breakfast Friday,
through working in our company booth, taking part in a flyby, and watching the hydroplane races and air shows from the top of the control tower, a place so secure you have to have about seventeen different levels of pass, plus a degree of chutzpah, just to get to.

I'm going to let the photos speak for themselves, as writing about this is not nearly as good as just seeing what it was.

Suffice to say that I'm not really happy with my photo skills, but some of them came out well, so that's progress.

Speaking of Angels

2006-08-07T14:00:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Karen Santa of Windermere Real Estate for arranging a pit pass for me Sunday at the hydroplane races. She's a sponsor of a boat, and graciously allowed me to do some photography that I otherwise would not have been able to get. And, in return, I took these photos of her.

The Deep Blue Sky, Full Of Angels

2006-08-03T16:05:00.000-07:00

OK, they're here, at Boeing Field, for the next four days. The US Navy Blue Angels, and what can be more exciting to a pilot than to be able to watch those guys from close up.

Take A Deep Breath and Plunge In...

2006-08-02T20:43:00.000-07:00

Through the immense generosity of a group of aviation friends, I have come to begin a new stage in my flying career, that of "aircraft builder".

With luck, persistence, and cash, lots of cash, I should at some time in the future have a hand in completing a kit-built Mustang II. The project is currently sitting abandoned in a barn in Eastern Washington, where we left it two years ago when I first saw it. At that time I took some cellphone photos of it, and as soon as I track down the hard drive they reside on I'll forward them on to this blog. However, here's a link to some photos I took of a Mustang II a few weeks ago at the Arlington EAA airshow. This is what my pile of airplane parts might look like after I put a lot of sweat and a lot of cash into the mixture, liberally dosed with a lot of time.

In the meantime, the plan is as follows:

Do the documentation with the current owner, releasing he and his heirs and successors from any and all liability pertaining to my further messing with the project.

(Addendum) Went to my local EAA meeting last night, found a resource, a gentleman who had a copy of a presentation given a few years ago by an aviation liability lawyer. My source also has copies of the contracts the lawyer drew up for him when he sold (that is, when my source sold) his own plane (sorry, collection of aircraft parts...)

(Addendum) Found the hard drive tucked away, and bought an external cover for it, powered it up, and found the cellphone photos from so many years ago. Here they are. Each needs some comments. The workmanship on the cowl is so poor that it's a full reject. So too will be some of the other cosmetic work, but the basic assembly workmanship is at least passable, at best good.

Steve's Farm

Nov 27, 2004 - 13 Photos

Haul the aircraft, the parts, the plans, and the dust, over from the dryland farm country to a storage area as yet to be determined. I hope that storage area is somewhere near my place of employment.

Start with a clean sheet or two of paper, an A&P or two, an afternoon or twenty, and review the work that has been completed so far. This analysis will lead me to one of two decisions, which are, of course, proceed or abandon.

If proceed, then I'll be making myself MUCH more active in my local EAA chapter, of which I'm already a member (just in case this project came to pass....).

And, I'll be scrambling for the cash of course....which is sparse to say the least....

But, over the horizon and out there somewhere, God willing and weather permitting, an airplane, a sweet little two seat semi-aerobatic ride, will be mine for the asking....and what's not to like about that?

Way, Way Behind The Airplane

2006-07-29T19:43:00.000-07:00

I am way, way behind the airplane. Which, as all pilots know, or are sometime to learn, is NOT where you want to be.

Since last I wrote, there’s been a significant number of aviation adventures. And misadventures too……

First, there was the EAA Northwest Fly-In, or more commonly, the Arlington Airshow.

My company takes part as a major sponsor, and we brought a lot of airplanes up for the show. That of course means that somebody has to fly them up, and I’m pretty much the kind of a guy that will drop anything to go flying, particularly if I don’t have to pull my own Visa card out at the end of the flight.

It was the fourth of July, and we had been griping a bit in the days prior to that, because none of us really wanted to have to take time away from our all-important holiday to do something as mundane as ferry brand new sophisticated airplanes up to a grassy field where there was nothing but aircraft idiots by the dozens……

When we finally got our flight together, there were seven of us. For me this was a first. It wasn’t like the formation flying ride I had bummed last summer, with the Red Baron biplane team. This was ME flying the airplane in a very loose formation. So loose in fact that we had little if any visual contact, but still, we were all occupying the same airspace, and there was something special about firing up seven airplanes and taxiing to the runway for takeoff clearances…..

We’d agreed to monitor 123.45 (which yesterday I discovered is NOT intended for casual air-to-air conversations, but is instead a test frequency for avionics manufacturers…..who knew…?) so shortly after liftoff we were chatting back and forth….. a little bit of “where are ya?” and “didja see that….?” and so on. The high point was that it was, frankly, scud running, with a ceiling just barely legal, and conditions were somewhat less than my (previous) personal minimums. There was, of course, peer pressure, even though it was unstated……..and just as I was about to exercise my PIC right to turn around and run for the barn, a hole opened up over Lake Washington, and I could see that beyond the north end of the lake there was much improved conditions.

Now, we were flying two Diamond 20 C1 Eclipses, (VFR only, but with Garmin 430’s), three Diamond DA40’s with Garmin G1000 glass panels, a Diamond TwinStar (diesels, G1000, soon-to-be-certified for known icing, and a Columbia 400 (G1000 as well). So, there was a lot of avionics horsepower there, and it’s only a thirty minute flight from Boeing Field to Arlington….so there was little chance of anybody getting lost. Which is why when one of us said “hey K….., where ya at…?” and there was a long pause, then a “ummmmm, …….” we had to all bite our tongues to stop from laughing out loud, because if you can’t figure it out by looking out the window, you’ve got a half-million dollar computer screen in front of you with a little picture of an airplane over a moving map……

Anyway, we all got there safe and sound. And, set up our displays, and jumped back into the TwinStar and the Columbia to blast back to Boeing and get on with the fireworks and the partying later that night.

So, for the next five days, I had the distinct pleasure of being left seat in the Diamond TwinStar as we commuted to work at Arlington each day, from Boeing Field. And I now feel a good deal more comfortable in that particular airplane than I have a right to expect. What a sweet ride she is….

The weather was lousy for the first two days, so the crowds did not materialize, and the show was disappointing, but the TwinStar was the star, that was for sure. There was always a pile of toothless pilots gathered round, chucking their chins and tilting their heads to one side and finally sidling up and asking “Is that them there damn diesels……”

That particular group of pilots have been, disparagingly and impolitely, nicknamed by one of our previous co-workers as “whistling gophers….” because they walk up to a brand new airplane, scratch their chins and their receding hairlines, then ask “how much does that there damned airplane go fer….?” and when we tell them they purse their lips and go “Weeeeeoooooooohhhhhhh………”

On the third evening, heading home, four on board, me on the stick, the PIC (for I have no multi-engine endorsement) suggested that this takeoff we might just level out at 20’ or so, and retract the gear, and fly it down the runway in ground effect…….

Just as I was about to pull back on the stick, since the available runway was coming to an end, the airshow temporary tower controller, who had been VERY interested in the TwinStar, came on the radio and said something like “So, I see the TwinStar doesn’t climb very well with four on board…….” and that was the moment that the airspeed had reached a good deal more than was necessary, and I pulled the stick back into my crotch and as we screamed up into the sky the tower came back on the radio and all he say was “Oh…..!” and that felt pretty good.

Anyway, Arlington is a blast, and there was some serious aerobatic behavior going on each day. I spent some time with my camera pointed at the sky, but my long lens doesn’t have image stabilization, so I’m disappointed with the results, but still, it was fun.

On the last evening of the show we only had four pilots available to fly those wonderful airplanes back home, so we had to do two trips and commute back up one time. It seems that I’m developing a habit on the last evening of Arlington, which is that, even though I’ve flown AWO direct KBFI dozens of times, I seem to get lost heading home on the last flight of the weekend…..and I always find myself noodling around in the skies up above the Skagit Valley, which I what I consider to be a tiny bit of heaven. So, I celebrated another great Arlington by twisting a DiamondStar around the sky for a while, then headed home just at sundown and moonrise….for yes, it was very close to the full moon. A perfect weekend.

And since it’s bedtime, I’ll stop here, but there’s more coming, and it’s called…

It’s True, Blondes DO Have More Fun!

An Orcas Adventure

2006-07-02T22:10:00.000-07:00

Had a lovely flight up to Orcas Island yesterday, with my friend Molly. We dropped into Decatur Shores to visit with Mark and Chris, but they had not yet arrived. Wandered up the path and introduced Molly to Ken and Diana. Diana was trapped in the treehouse, Ken using the ladder for work on the new deck, but Diana laid claim to the Rapunzel tactic......but she didn't actually let her hair down.

Orcas had a summer fair going on, and we were able to wander around there a bit. Had a camera with me, and noticed that I'd lost my lens cap. Backtracked looking for it, couldn't find it, cursed myself for losing it, and finally let go of it, figuring it was gone forever. It was of course at that moment that two young men wandered up to me holding the lens cap, making gestures to see if it fit.....when I asked them, they said they'd just found it a few minutes earlier, and had then been looking at all the people wandering around with cameras, looking for the missing cap. It was slightly miraculous. A lesson in letting go, as Molly pointed out.

There were some very interesting crafts going on at the fair, including some blacksmithing. It's quite the chore, that hammering on metal. No freaking wonder most of us like keeping our soft little hands on computer keyboards, or airplane controls.......

Had a lovely lunch, wandered around the drop-dead gorgeous Episcopal church on the point, and flew home. Got a text message from Mark just as I was flying overhead, over Decatur, inviting us down for tea, but we had to make it back to Boeing, more's the bad luck.

I'll be attending the Northwest EAA Fly-In at Arlington, WA, all next week, and should have piles of new photos and comments...can't wait.

What's So Special About This Guy?

2006-07-02T20:57:00.000-07:00

Much as I hate to admit it, there's a certain panache about having your own 747 available, let alone swarms of police officers and security details, when you arrive at any airport. And, to hear the tower controllers on the radio say "Air Force One, cleared to land, the airport is yours......" is not something that I hear when I fly into Boeing Field.

So, there's been a visit to Seattle this morning, and here's some photos we took, from behind the windows of course, as there were MANY secret service types scowling at us as we shot these.....

But, what the heck, what else would we spend the tax dollars on? Education? Health Care? Nah....let's spend it on airplanes..... that's MUCH more fun......

Anacortes Fly-In Saturday

2006-07-02T20:56:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking what a special privilege it is to be so familiar with the airports around the Seattle area.

Yesterday I went in to work, and unexpectedly the front desk customer service person asked me if I’d grab an airplane and fly one of our flight instructors up to the Skagit Valley, to pick up one of our aircraft which had been having a one hundred hour maintenance overhaul. So, ten minutes later I was ready to go, but the weather just crapped out, just as the briefer had said it would on the phone moments before. But, half an hour after that, again, just as the briefer had predicted, the line of thunderstorms had passed through, and I was airborne heading northbound out of Boeing Field.

It’s nice to fly with an instructor when you’re not actually paying for instruction, as he feels free to comment on your flying, but you don’t have to listen…..you’re wise however if you do. So, Keith, who’s done some significant development work for NASA, gave me an intensive lesson on leaning the engine mixture, for proper fuel consumption.

Half an hour later, I dropped him off at Bayview Skagit, which is Mount Vernon Washington, and had a nice chat with the maintenance manager at the business there. He’s trying to encourage my company to expand to his facility, so it was one of those meetings where he was putting on his best face and I was doing my best to be non-committal. But what struck me was how nice it was to know somebody at that airport, and how fortunate I am that that’s the case.

Had a nice flight back home, twiddling knobs on the panel practicing my IFR procedures, in the middle of which I find myself…..that is, I’m in the middle of my instrument rating, and I take every opportunity to fly as if I were inside the clouds. So, 1.3 hours on the company nickel, and I’m grateful for it.

Today, we flew three airplanes up to Anacortes Washington, which is the gateway to the San Juan Islands. They were having an airport fly-in, and one of the organizers had invited us to bring some planes up to display them. We anticipated a few dozen planes at most, and a barbeque, and maybe a smallish crowd….instead, it was about fifty or sixty planes of all descriptions, a few hundred people wandering around, and a beautiful sunshiney day.

You couldn’t have asked for more fun if you’re a pilot. There were taildraggers, weird birds from Eastern Bloc countries, amphibians, military helicopters, Cessnas, our three Diamonds, including the TwinStar which was the star of the show, and lots of other eye candy.

The organizer is the owner of the airplane I flew a few months ago which wound up on the cover of a flight training magazine, and he had been unaware of that, so it was fun to show him his airplane on a national magazine. There were women with diamonds the size of Manhattan Island wandering around. Anacortes has become a refuge for people from California, Oregon, and Washington, who love it for the access to the San Juans, and the fact that the sun shines significantly more often there than in Seattle or Bellingham to the north.

The burgers were free, the pilots were bullshitting each other, and the wives looked lovely, including those who were themselves accomplished pilots. And the kids were having a blast, playing airplanes and dogfighting.

I ran into an acquaintance late in the afternoon, who had dropped in looking for members of his Civil Air Patrol squadron, to pick him up at Arlington Airport, to the southeast, and give him a ride home to Seattle. I volunteered to do that, as his squadron had already packed up and left an hour earlier. So, I flew over to Arlington and there too ran into somebody I know who’s the main organizer of the Northwest EAA Fly-in and Airshow in July. We had a lovely chat, standing around her hangar, watching the various gliders being towed into the sky, to land on the grass a few minutes later.

Then it was a short hop home, arriving at Boeing just in time to hang out with the staff at the flight school, and give my new friend a ride on my motorcycle back to where he’d parked his car, at the northeast parking area. When we got there, my friend Ken was working on his Glastar, so we had a chat. Finally I tried to leave, but going out the airport gate there were two attractive young women walking towards a Piper Cub. One was my friend Mark’s wife Chris, who’s taking her private pilot checkride next week, and the other was Alison, who flies float planes for Kenmore Air out of Seattle. So we chatted for a while and finally I made my way off the airport.

Aviation has brought me so many new friends and such joy. I’m astonished at what a community it is, and how I’m beginning to be a part of that community.

It Takes Two To Tango Charlie

2006-07-02T20:55:00.000-07:00

N180TC, or November One Eight Zero Tango Charlie, holds a special place in my heart. It's the aircraft in which I earned my tailwheel endorsement, and that makes me a "real" pilot in the eyes of many, perhaps even including myself.

She's a lovely bird, a Cessna 180 Skywagon, which is basically the pickup truck of the airports. There's more Skywagons flying around with great stories to tell than you can shake a stick at, though she doesn't need a stick shaker to tell you that she's about to stall....

My friend Tom is a CFI, (Certified Flight Instructor) and he decided one day that I was competent enough to fly his airplane, and that I was even competent enough for him to endorse my logbook saying so. But the real story is how I got to that day.

My good friend Mark is the person who got me flying. If you're interested, I've written a bit about him in a posting called "It All Started At A Forty Watt Radio Station in Saskatoon", but Mark is partners in a Skywagon with our friend Steve, and because of that, and because Mark and Steve are both my aviation mentors, I've spend tons of time in the right seat of their 180. Neither is a CFI, but the hundreds of hours I've spent haven't been wasted just looking out the window.

I've been so fortunate. There's Rob too, who owns a 140A, is a CFI, and learned how to teach by teaching me some great tailwheel training, at his expense, for hours and hours. Each pilot has shown me many things about their plane, so that the day that Tom agreed to help me get my endorsement, it was mostly just a matter of showing him that I knew where the rudders were located, that I could perform an emergency landing in a crosswind, and that I could do it with enough skill that we could re-use the plane each time.....

Without these friends, I'd still be sitting somewhere hoping and praying that some day I'd be a pilot. It's what this great community of aviation is all about, friends helping friends, sharing their joy at the privilege of flight. I promise to do my utmost to continue the tradition.

Gee One Thousand

2006-07-02T20:54:00.000-07:00

There's a terrific new piece of avionics out dominating the market these days. Garmin has taken over the general aviation cockpit, and transformed it into a spaceliner flight deck.

There's only one hitch of course......it's complex and takes a good deal of time and energy to learn. But the rewards are fantastic, I'm told, though it's just now that I'm beginning to buckle/knuckle down and apply myself to the task of actually learning it instead of just talking about it.

The company I'm lucky enough to work for has developed a course to bring pilots at lightning speed into the twenty-first century, and today I attended the first day of a two day ground school. Given that I'm just a low-time VFR pilot, I'm intimidated, even though, of the class of five, there's three of us working on our instrument ratings and two high-time pilots who fly turbine powered heavy iron.

Tomorrow is the real test, where we put into place what we learned today, which was basically a familiarization tour of the two screens.....it was functionally just learning button-pushing. But tomorrow? It's all about real-world IFR experience, how to use the fabulous capabilities of this toy to actually get somewhere when the weather's a challenge.

Can't wait. It turns out that I'll be one of the first people at our flight school and even one of the first people in the nation to take a full instrument rating on the G1000. It's going to be an accomplishment to be proud of, ranking right there with my tailwheel endorsement and what I hope to have some day which would be an aerobatics capability....

More of course to follow, but now, to bed....

Lights, Camera, Satisfaction

2006-07-02T20:52:00.000-07:00

It never ceases to amaze me the reactions people have to the world of aviation.

Today I shepherded a film crew around the flight line where I work. We were entertaining many guests from around the world at the same time. Or, should I say, one of the Seattle "names" was entertaining his guests, and they had all arrived by executive jets, many parked on our ramp.

The film crew was doing work for that "name" company, doing a spoof on the highly popular TV show "24", wherein our intrepid hero finds himself piloting a business jet, with the need to subsequently abandon ship to save the world........

Meanwhile, I was surrounded by terrifically attractive intense women with a great company name doing creative work, while I was acting the part of an officious and sanctimonious twit...a part which, by the way, comes naturally to me...but a safety briefing is a safety briefing, and the world's a dangerous place, and the more so around spinning propellers and jet blast..

These film people were extraordinarily generous, and attentive, doing everything they could to put to rest any fears I might have had about the privacy of our other customers....it was just a ton of fun to be working on a bright sunny day surrounded by other people as passionate about their own work as I have become about mine.

OH, and the government saw fit yesterday to grant me clearance to pursue advanced flight training. This, because I'm an alien, and need to jump through a large number of hoops to assure the citizens of this country of which I'm a resident and guest that I'm not a threat.....

So, another banner day around light planes and beautiful women.....dang, I'm sure that this too shall pass, but bring it on Lord, and thank you.

Follow Your Twin Stars

2006-07-02T20:51:00.000-07:00

Was blessed twice in the past 24 hours.

Yesterday by appearing on the cover of a national flight training magazine, and today by having my first logbook entry flying a twin-engined aircraft.

For being on the cover of the magazine, I'd flown a Diamond 20 doing short field and soft field landings for a professional photographer doing the visuals for the article. It was on Wax Orchards, a private airstrip on Vashon, with flowering cherry trees lining the runway. A dream come true.

And today, I flew a Diamond TwinStar, the newest aircraft in our fleet. A total dream to fly...twin Mercedes diesel engines, Garmin G1000 glass panel avionics, and the sweetest ride you can imagine.

Had to ferry a Diamond 20 from Bremerton up to Arlington, and the aircraft salesperson allowed me left seat on the ride home in the TwinStar. We did advanced maneuvers, engine-out procedures, and I even greased it down on the runway at Boeing Field coming home. Got to descend at 80% power and 182 knots reporting Safeco Field on final approach, then drop out the gear and two notches of flaps and poof, I'm heading downhill at 88 knots and stable on short final......

Now, if that means nothing to you, I'm sorry, but it can, and if you'd like, I'll show you how.

Get in touch with your aviation soul!

New Years Eighteen Months Later

2006-07-02T20:50:00.000-07:00

Here's the first blog posting I made, New Years Day, 2005. It's on another blog, will figure out how to repost that here, but for the moment......

Morning all, and thanks for stopping by here.

Here's the list. You know the one I mean. The Resolutions.
1. Fly an airplane at every possible opportunity.
2. Be sure that somebody else is paying for that.....
3. Find a marketing job in the aviation community
4. Let somebody else pay for my instrument rating....
5. Lose those sneaky ten pounds that you've regained since August
6. Stay away from the dating websites.....no more kid in the candy store....

And here's the update.....

1. Flying about once or twice a week
2. Mostly somebody else is paying for it....
3. Got the marketing job eight days into the New Year, and only now am coming up for air to update this blog....
4. And, two weeks ago, got the go-ahead to complete my instrument rating as a benefit to my company, making me a more valuable employee....
5. Gained all the weight back, and more, now back down to neutral, and working hard on that......
6. Found a new girlfriend, lost her, am back to neutral there too.......

Four out of six is acceptable but not great, right?

Starting The Year Off Right

2005-01-01T03:42:00.000-08:00

Morning all, and thanks for stopping by here.

Here's the list. You know the one I mean. The Resolutions.

1. Fly an airplane at every possible opportunity.
2. Be sure that somebody else is paying for that.....
3. Find a marketing job in the aviation community
4. Let somebody else pay for my instrument rating....
5. Lose those sneaky ten pounds that you've regained since August
6. Stay away from the dating websites.....no more kid in the candy store....

It All Started At A Forty Watt Radio Station in Saskatoon

2003-11-08T20:48:00.000-08:00

"It All Started At A Forty Watt Radio Station in Saskatoon........."

My mother had a cousin, named E.... R......... Apparently ER put together a media empire of sorts, tv stations etc. etc; used to show up in Winnipeg in the 1950's driving a big geezly finned Cadillac of sorts, flashing diamonds and talking loudly. Had to love the guy. Whenever ER started a long rambling story, and in particular whenever he talked business or personal success, he started it with the now famous opening line in our family for any long and rambling story…..”It All Started At A Forty Watt Radio Station in Saskatoon”….

It's a funny thing about dreams, you gotta reach out and make them happen.

I have a fine friend named M..., who's one of those talented people you run across from time to time that make a difference in your life. M... owns a company here in Seattle, and he manufactures sport kites. He's the best in the world at what he does, and in the little world of kites, he's Michaelangelo, or more likely, Leonardo Da Vinci.

I met him because I was looking for sunshine.

As my second marriage was dissolving into catastrophe I would come home from work evenings and want sunshine. Our house was on the east slope of a hillside, and in shadow by that time of day. Nearby was the old Sand Point Naval Air Station, now a public park called Warren Magnusson Park. It's on Lake Washington. If you look down the lake on a summer evening, you can see the most beautiful volcano hanging in the sky, Mt. Rainier.

When they decommissioned the runways, they piled up the concrete onsite, and it became a hillside; the local kite community got together and removed all the scotch-broom, and now it's a lovely grassy slope with a view to die for, called Kite Hill.

Because it sticks out into the lake, it gets evening sun, and one day I wandered on up there and saw all the kite fliers. Now, when I had lived in Victoria, BC, I had flown kites, but somehow this time it kicked in as something I'd really like to do.

So I became a sport kite flier, and really began to enjoy it. Turns out, the kite I bought was a P...m kite, and it also turns out that that particular hilltop was the place where M... had filmed the videos that he used to include with his products. Kite fliers from all over the world would make pilgrimages to this place; it was astonishing.

Over time, I met M..., and we started talking business, and other kinds of things. He was just getting his private pilot's license, and I'd always been interested in aviation, like yourself, and had the standard profile of somebody who once upon a long time ago had accumulated a few hours, but then allowed life to get in the way.

A few years went by. My marriage dissolved, and one day M... asked me if I'd like to join him in a sweet old Stinson for a flight down to Portland. Duh! Like most pilots, when we were in the air, he handed me the controls. About twenty minutes later he took them back and said "you know, most times when I hand the controls to somebody, we spend five minutes porpoising and swerving all over the sky. You've held an altitude and a heading for twenty minutes. You should fly!"

"Nah" I said, "I'm too old, too poor, too much baggage, that dream is gone....." He turned his head, looked me square in the eyes, and said "YOU SHOULD FLY!" At that moment some little bell went off in my head that said "If not now, when? He's right, I've always wanted to be a pilot, and I do NOT want to be on my deathbed saying to myself 'dammit, I could have flown' "

Given that I have MANY challenges, it STILL took another three years. But, one day a few years ago only, a designated examiner from the FAA sat down at a crappy old typewriter, tapped out a few letters on a tiny piece of paper and handed it to me, and said "Congratulations Mr. W....., you're a pilot!"

And then I did a pre-flight, got back into the airplane that I'd flown up to Bellingham for the exam (since you can fly solo as a student, as long as your instructor has signed you off) and called the ground control for permission to taxi for takeoff..... "Good afternoon Bellingham Ground, Cessna Skyhawk November 5... Echo, GA Terminal with Information Charlie, Taxi for Southbound Departure."

"Five ...... Echo, Taxi to Runway One Six."

Now, by this time of day, it was sundown, and beyond; I'd have had to stay overnight if I'd failed my exam, because student pilots are not allowed to fly solo at night regardless. On the off chance that I DID fail the exam, M... was staying at his cabin on D..... , a private island in the San Juans just southwest of Bellingham. D......'s got a grass runway (with lights, activated by the pilot on the radio) and I'd dropped in there as a student once, and been in many times in the right seat with M....

It's a dangerous landing however, because there's a mountain at the other end, so you CANNOT execute a "go-around"; once you're on final approach over the meadow, you MUST get the plane onto the ground.

I'd planned this day for months, and I'd had a chance to look at an astronomical calendar, and I knew that it was going to be the night of a full moon."Bellingham Tower, Cessna Skyhawk November Five Five One Two Echo, ready at One Six, southbound departure.....!"

And then came the COOLEST radio call I've yet ever heard."Cessna 5512 Echo, cleared for takeoff Runway One Six, southbound departure approved. We understand congratulations are in order?"

Blow me away with a feather duster, the examiner had talked to the tower guys....."Uh, affirmative tower, and thanks. Cleared for takeoff, One Two Echo...!"

And off I went, my first takeoff as a private pilot, heart soaring, damned near singing into the microphones. Glanced over to my left, but no moonrise yet. Was heading to D......., to drop in on M...., and his aircraft partner S....., who was also waiting to see what had happened on the exam.

Pilot buddies. What a blessing. Got over D......, decided to overfly the runway crosswise, checking for deer, who graze it at sundown. Deer and airplanes on landing do NOT mix well. Clicked my microphone to turn on the runway lights. Nothing happened. Realized that I did NOT have the right frequency tuned in to activate them but worse, did NOT have the frequency committed to memory, and because it's a private runway, none of my charts or books were gonna help.

Damn, now I have to head back to Paine Field in Everett; just then, the runway lights came on. S...., hearing me overfly, and realizing my dilemma, had figured it out, and turned them on. So, my first landing as a private pilot was at night, onto a grass runway with deer grazing on it, and a mountain at the other end waiting to reach out and kill me. Possibly not the best exercise in good aviation judgement?

We shook hands, laughed, shot the shit for a while, and then it was time to go home. M... asked whether he could bum a ride home with me. Now, I'd been flying with lots of instructors, but my chief instructor was M.... He's not a certified flight instructor, but he's the best pilot of ALL the people I've flown with, and he had spent hundreds of hours with me in the cockpit of S.....'s Cessna 180; in fact, when I got my certificate I probably had a lot more experience than many do, including a fair amount of actual instrument flying conditions, which you don't do as a wet behind the ears private. That comes a lot later.

So, when M..... asked me for the ride home, S...... would take the 180 back to Paine, I said of course, and realized that THIS was ACTUALLY my final exam. I'd never been in the left seat of an airplane with him, never landed nor taken off with him, because the 180 is a taildragger and one needs a special endorsement to do the landings and takeoffs in it. By the way, I'm almost finished that endorsment now.

We back taxied down the runway toward the mountain, in the dark, carefully looking for deer in the taxi lights. We turned facing south, having completed the runup, which is the final moment you check to make sure all systems are go, and he said "OK, now, when you lift the nose off the runway tonight, everything is going to be pitch black; there's no lights out over the water as a visual reference, you CAN'T tell the difference between the ground and the sky, and you just need to fly on instruments like I've taught you.....use the attitude indicator to keep the wings level and the nose pitched up slightly, use the rate of climb indicator to establish that you have a positive rate of climb, and make sure that your airspeed is Vy (which is a known quantity, the best rate of climb); if you do that, then everything is going to be just fine.

Now, you'd think there'd be a bit of heart pounding going on, but there wasn't. It was just, OK, I've flown this puppy many times, I've flown with M.... many times, it's just a takeoff, nothing's any different except I can't SEE squat, off we go!

As we lifted off I had everything squared away just the way it was supposed to be. I'd dialed in the radios to contact Whidbey Naval Airstation, whose airspace I would be intruding upon about two minutes after liftoff, and everything was tickety-boo. So I allowed myself the opportunity to glance over to the left, toward the Cascade Mountains, fully expecting to see a gorgeous full moon, as it was a perfectly clear night.

Instead, there was deep yellow sliver of a moon out on the horizon, just sneaking over the tops of the mountains."Now THAT's a lunar eclipse" I said, and I was right, it was true, I'd had NO idea that it was going to happen, but sure enough, my first night takeoff as a pilot, and my first takeoff with my best friend where I was pilot in command? A VERY GOOD omen! At least, that's how I chose to take it, because the other choice was not too promising..

Now that night four years earlier with M...., coming home from Portland, it had been just before Christmas, and there'd been ground fog in all the valleys, and shining UP through the ground fog were all the Christmas lights of all the houses. Magic glow. And, looking around in the crystal sky, there were all the twinkling anti-collision lights of all the planes in the sky, as if we were swimming in some magic fishbowl.

But coming home from Bellingham, with ME doing the flying, and a full moon slowly revealing itself from a lunar eclipse over the forty minutes in flight? I will NEVER forget that night, and if I NEVER fly again, I will always have those moments.

And if YOU want to fly, then DO IT! Don't listen to the little voices saying you can't, you can't afford it, you're too old, you're too whatever. Just get into your car one day, drive out to the airport, and walk into the flight school. Tell them Jeremy sent you.

And tell them it all started at a forty watt radio station in Saskatoon.

© J....... W......, 2005