Flying over Amsterdam isn’t easy, but Gerhard van Roon says he wouldn’t trade it for anything: “once over the target and the safety pilot has taken the yoke with me hanging with my cameras out of the window, I am sure that there isn’t a job in the world as beautiful and satisfying as mine!” As this week’s Friday photo shows, he does have quite the view.
You have to pay close attention these days to keep up with all the breathless news about “flying cars” and “disruptive aerial vehicles.” The great and the good from the technology world have fallen in love with aviation lately, and their various startup companies have been launching aviation projects at an unprecedented rate in 2017. Do any of them have a chance? Does it matter?
I’m going to fly along with you as you take your Cessna 206 Stationair II for a flight to pick up a client out in the flat country beyond the Alaska Range. Your client lives in a log cabin along the Kuskokwim River, downstream from the village of Aniak. You’ve made sure to have the necessary flight charts with you.
Like many pilots, flying my plane to Oshkosh was on my bucket list, but work, cost, and time always seemed to say “not this year.” So, in 2012 when the Cub Club announced the “Cubs To Oshkosh” in celebration of the 75th anniversary of the Cub, that was it. I had to be part of that history. This is my story of that trip.
Mount Shasta is a stunning sight from any altitude, but when it’s passing off the right wing the towering peak looks particularly good. That’s exactly the picture Dale Morris captured from his RV-6A on a sightseeing flight with his wife.
Saturday October 16, 2010. Mom and I were at a craft show when Grandpa called to see if I could go fly with him today. He tried to take me before but something always came up, like I hadn’t had my nap. When you’re four years old everybody knows no nap and flying aren’t a good mix. Today was my lucky day.
The place as it stands today bears no resemblance to the airport tucked away in my thoughts. Every pilot has melancholy memories of favourite places because flying sears powerful images and feelings they long for. The airfield that comes to mind is where I learned to fly. Introductory flights were $10 back then.
Most pilots don’t fly holds too often these days, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore them. Whether it’s a hold on an instrument approach or knowing when not to hold, there is a lot to know. Take our 10-question quiz to test your knowledge of IFR holding procedures and see if you’re still current.
The potential for turbulence should be an integral part of pre- and in-flight weather study. And I found over the years that experience is the best teacher because with turbulence what you feel is what you get. If flying IFR in clouds, the fact that turbulence there makes many riders uneasy and uncomfortable has to be acknowledged, and even some pilots riding as passengers get antsy in bumpy clouds.
One of the best parts of our Friday Photo series is the wide variety of locations we get to share. This week’s photo is a great example: Thor Fredrik Eie took this beautiful picture of Torghatten in northern Norway on a recent sightseeing flight. The rocky coast and the blue skies make for a unique view over the nose of his Cessna.
In the remarks section of my logbook entry for January 3, 1999, it simply says, “Ride for Barb – Clear and cold.” We flew for 1.9 hours, but I honestly can’t remember the flight. For Barb, this was her first flight in a plane other than a commercial airliner. For me it was part of my vetting process for potential dating partners. If they didn’t like flying in small airplanes, there wouldn’t be much of a future in the relationship.
This year’s Sun ‘n Fun Fly-in didn’t have any flashy new product introductions – no $50,000 LSAs or supersonic jets from unknown startups – but there may have been a more important trend unfolding. The vacuum-driven gyro may finally be on the way out. Thank goodness.
I loved being at Elmendorf and being in Alaska. It was supposed to be a 90-day tour; I volunteered to stay much longer. My memory causes me to believe there were about a dozen B-47s cocked on alert. Four days a week, three B-47s arrived from Tucson, two of which were turn arounds rotating flight crews, the third cocked to replace an alert bird being rotated home.
The flight started out as an early evening flight to just go flying. I stopped and refueled at Ak Chin just as the sun was getting low on the horizon. I departed for KCHD in time to catch this fantastic sunset over Maricopa. It reminded me of the Arizona flag.
Mom and Dad, now elderly, were visiting our family in Waterloo, Ontario, on one of their annual visits. I decided to take them flying. I rented a Cessna 172 out of Kitchener Waterloo airport and took them for individual flights. He took the controls for some of the flight. I marveled at how natural he seemed with the controls.
So I poured the power on and hauled back on the yoke. With the lighter load, that yoke came right back and the nose of the plane pointed right up. For a split second I thought “that’s strange” and before I knew it, I was pointing straight down at the ground in a left spin.
I had taken off from a small airport in southern Arizona, when the tower asked me to extend my upwind leg. “I’ll extend departure leg,” I acknowledged. I just happened to be flying with my CFI, who is also a controller at the same airport. My CFI gave me a quizzical look. I asked, “why do controllers use incorrect terminology to describe the departure leg?”
Combine a beautiful airplane and Mother Nature and sometimes you get a stunning view. Kevin Olsen snapped this photo while descending into Palm Beach in a Baron. As he says, “Even though I’ve been flying for over 50 years, I continue to be humbled and amazed at images like this. Such power and beauty.”
I released the brakes, and we began our takeoff roll. The runway lights went by faster and faster as we accelerated, with the familiar callouts coming from Mark in the right seat as he monitored all of the gauges and instruments while I kept my attention outside the cockpit. I used both hands to pull back on the control wheel, and the nosewheel came smoothly off the runway, followed by the main wheels. Suddenly, a red warning light flashed, indicating “ENGINE FIRE.”
The pilot of the jump plane is required to wear a parachute just in case an “in case” happens. I mentioned to another young pilot that I wasn’t quite sure of my ability to affect a positive outcome if I had to hit the silk. Word got back to the jumpmaster somehow, and I found myself in the front row of the next jump class. Wonderful!