Cause Tig(g)ers Are Wonderful Things

I'm writing this post in ice blue, because that's the color my fingers turned while pre-flighting Bravo Alpha a week ago Wednesday. Greg and I wanted to fly to Northeast Philadelphia to pick up the Tiger, so agreed on an early start in the hopes that we'd be able to fit in an afternoon at the office. As we lugged out the engine pre-heater, I marvelled that I had continued my flight training with Rich given my first below-freezing, 5:30 a.m. lesson in January. It's definitely a testament to how much I love flying, because early mornings and cold weather really are not "my thing."

After the engine had been warming for some time, we climbed in so Greg could start the plane. Or, I should say, attempt to start the plane. It was frustrating, as she kept sounding like the propeller was going to catch, only to wind down again. Eventually, we gave up and Bob, President of our Flying Club and White Knight, came and started Romeo for us. It was close to 10:30 when we eventually took off into a strong headwind and watched the familiar Maryland scenery crawl by.

In my defense, I amused myself for at least twenty minutes - mostly trying to convince my camera that if my eye could see Baltimore (above), it should be able to pick it out in a photograph - before complaining to Greg that I was bored. As I recall, he was his usual sympathetic self.

When we got closer to Philadelphia, the light on the water made for some good photography. It was amazing how different the same body of water, featured above and below, looked depending on how the angle of the sun was hitting the water.

Although my brown gloves are almost hidden, I also persuaded Greg to participate in a double victory sign photograph. As you can tell, he was most pleased to be in my staged shot.

Our route of flight took us over the Susquehanna river, and I reminisced over my student days when the number of bridges and dams to the left and right of my course were eagerly counted to check my bearings. Most of the time, I even counted right.

The sun reflecting on the water as we passed by Delaware was awesome. There is something about intensely cold mornings that definitely make the sun seem to shine all the brighter.

I took this next picture as a shout-out to my Godson, Carlos. This is the air field Rich, Gillian, Eddie and I flew too in the hopes of seeing Juan play a polo game one afternoon this past summer. As it turned out, the rain had other plans for us, but we ended up practicing our polo skills in a large cage, getting our plane hand propped by the Flying Farmer, and it was a memorable day all the same.

Coming into the Northeast Philadelphia airport, Greg concentrated on the instructions he was received from the Tower, while I snapped pictures of Philadelphia.

I definitely had the easier job.

Once on the ground, we met with the mechanic who had worked on the Tiger. I walked down to say hello to the Tiger, but then decided to get Romeo going again before there was any chance that the engine would cool down to the point of giving me trouble. I haven't had a ton of solo experience at Towered airports, so it was good practice. All went smoothly, and I hugged the Class Bravo airspace around Philadelphia for a while after take-off, before turning to a more direct course for home.

The winds were not exactly a headwind, but still my progress was retarded. There was also an occasional bump of turbulence, and a few up and down drafts to keep me on my toes, but I couldn't resist pulling out my camera for the above quarry. I was flying low to stay under a Bravo shelf, and the water is always such a crazy color of blue in the quarries.

When I got back to Gaithersburg, I went for a quick lunch with Bob, before returning to help Gashaw and John remove the battery from Bravo Alpha so it could be recharged overnight. I called someone at the office and told them that I was unlikely to make it in until late afternoon as I had to stay and help fix the plane I broke. Her response was (somewhat) amusing, "I just hope you didn't break it in the air."

Greg arrived at Gaithersburg about 45 minutes later, as he had stayed to talk with the mechanic in greater detail and personally inspect the work done on the Tiger. As we were leaving the airport, it was very nice to see her sitting back where she belongs.

The Return Of The Baron

Our Tiger has been in the shop this past month for her annual maintenance, and my inability to fly her has almost driven me insane. I cannot imagine what it has been like for Rich to be without his Baron for the past year. So, when Rich emailed about an early morning run where I would be tasked with keeping an eye on some instruments while he flew, I was quick to agree. I couldn't convince Gillian that a 5:30 a.m. flight was what she wanted to do, but Eddie came, looking extra spiffy in his new "C0-Pilot" bandana.

Eddie and I nearly froze to the frost-covered ground as Rich struggled to start "el diablo," which is the electric thingymajig that pulls the Baron out of its hanger. Finally, after a few anxious moments where we wondered if the new left engine was going to start, we were ready to go. But not before Eddie got his flying ear-muffs on.

Who says dogs like look their masters? :-)

The feeling of speed as Rich accelerated down the runway was fantastic. I wanted to shout "FASTER!!!," but ultimately decided that doing so might get me uninvited from future flights. I forget what Rich said our rate of climb was, but we were at some insane height in a matter of minutes.

Eddie looked very much at home in the backseat. Rich flew the Baron to North Carolina to collect Eddie (who was found as a pup, sick and abandoned), so it truly is Eddie's home away from home. I have to confess, it's tempting to laugh when Eddie has his ear-muffs on. He can still hear you, but he watches you much more intently, almost as if he's afraid that he might miss something important, like, "cookie?".

With the instrument readings duly noted, Rich practiced some steep turns while I snapped photographs.

Ironically, I found the sensation of looking straight down at the ground as Rich maneuvered through a 45 degree turn somewhat disconcerting in a "big" plane like the Baron. Not so disconcerting that I didn't take photographs, of course.

I also realized that flying in the Baron is going to teach me some new photography skills, like being fast on the trigger. I had barely formulated the thought "that's a cool cloud line formation" and we were almost under it. You still get the idea, though.

Rich offered me the yoke for a bit, but I hesitated to do anything other than hold her straight and level. Next time! Besides, somebody had to take the artsy shots.

And what is Rich doing in the photo? Well ...

If you don't think you're the best pilot in the business, MAYBE you're in the wrong business. If you think you could never make a mistake, you are REALLY in the wrong business. — Randy Sohn

Front Royal Fly-In

Several times a year, Joe, one of the members of our flying club, organizes a club fly-in. The destinations change among airports in the greater Washington area, with favorite locales occasionally repeated. I had yet to participate in one since getting my license, so let Joe know I was up for wherever and whatever.

In the end, it was just Joe and myself who were keen to fly, so we decided to head out over Harper's ferry and follow the Potomac south to Front Royal. It had been a week or so since I'd been up, and the leaves were displaying some great colors.

As we flew along, Joe pointed out the winery where his company had had a retreat only a few days before.

Although allowed to fly as low as 1,000 feet above the river, we decided that 1,600 gave us a little more maneuvering room.

While Joe flew, I practiced my "tilted is artsy" photography.

I realized how low we were to the ground when I looked up and saw birds above us!

I had never followed the Potomac South before, and saw some great fishing spots. According to Joe, there is also some great duck hunting locales. No, not in the quarry. Those two thoughts were not linked.

The day wasn't too sunny, but the air was calm, making for a good flight.

Joe landed at Front Royal and was taxing back as the below glider was landing. The picture may be a bit confusing, but the glider is landing on the left, with another glider about to take off with its tow-plane on the right. The glider was incredibly beautiful to watch as it kissed the grass and slowly came to a stop.

After shutting down the plane, Joe and I headed inside the FBO and checked out their mini-museum. As we were getting ready to leave, Joe remembered that he had a new "pilot passport" in his flight bag, which he gave to me. I hustled back inside and got my first airport stamp. I still don't fully understand the system, but apparently when the book is full, good things happen. I have a ways to go, though, in my stamp collecting endeavors.

After we watched the second glider get towed up several thousand feet (above) and released, I took off and headed us for home.

Our route was a good flight to practice my pilotage, as the Potomac took us back to Harper's ferry, at which point we cut eastwards for Gaithersburg.

I came into Gaithersburg with light winds, which made for an easy landing. Romeo still felt a bit awkward after several months of flying our low-wing Tiger, but Romeo got me through my first solo flight, and I will always have a soft spot in my heart for her.