In Flight USA Article Categories
In Flight USA Articles
SPIRIT of Flight, Bay2Bay
By Denise Rae Donegan and Ana Carolina Uribe Ruiz
WAI pilots and CHP in front of CHP aircraft at Signature in San Jose airport. (Denise Rae Donegan)Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area has been an adventure, to say the least. On any given day you can hop in your plane and enjoy the view as you make your way down to the Monterey Bay. Take a deep breath as you and your passengers follow the rugged coastal mountain ranges south, and discover the many treasures and little towns dotted along the way.
It seems as if I’ve been back and forth between these bays for a lifetime. Forty-four years ago, my father moved our family from Cleveland, Ohio to the San Francisco Bay Area. I was eight. My dad was a sailor and veteran of the Coast Guard and NAVY; he relocated our family to California for a new job and business opportunity in South San Francisco. After graduating college, I had the opportunity to join the family business, and with that came many working lunches sitting with my dad on the side of the bay, watching planes take off and land at the San Francisco International Airport.
Author Denise Rae Donegan trying sky-diving. (Courtesy Denise Rae Donegan)My dad loved to fly. He wanted to fly. And, my mom did not. In fact, it scared her. Although, this fear was not enough to not get on dozens of airplanes and jet off to their next amazing adventure! My mom still loves to explore as much as my dad loved to get lost and look up to the sky to identify as many aircraft as he could. This passion for flight rubbed off on me! It’s in the blood. My love for flight, travel, and discovery has led me to a world of amazing people and opportunity within the industry of aviation. My friend, pilot, writing partner, mentor, Co-President of Women in Aviation, International San Francisco Bay Area Chapter (WAI-SFBA), and Jefferson Award Winner for Public Service, Ana Carolina Uribe Ruiz, introduced me to Women in Aviation, International, and opened the doors for me and others to discover the career possibilities within the world of aviation. Ana’s father formed an airline in Ecuador in the late ‘50s that was the flag Airline for the country for many years…
Recently I asked Ana why she loves to fly. Her response was simple, “Why? The view and the space you are in. Nothing better than looking outside and being able to fly, a bird’s eye view. That’s what I see!”
Flying Into Writing: Some Things Have Changed Over the Years…
By Eric McCarthy
Buzzard’s Bay (Courtesy Ben Nugent/Martha’s Vineyard Chamber of Commerce)Ahh…it seems like only yesterday! My long cross-country as a student pilot…
I was speaking with one of my CAP squadron-mates the other day and asked how close he was to finishing his Private Pilot license. He said he had just a couple of items left, including his solo long cross-country. Since he was training at a Part 141 flight school, his cross-country merely had to cover at least 100nm. As I look at the FARs today, it appears that the requirements may have been relaxed from when I did my long cross-country years ago. As I recall, my flight had to have three legs of at least 100nm each.
At the time I was training at Turners Falls (0B5), a remote, picturesque airport located at a sharp bend in the Connecticut River in north central Massachusetts. The airport has a 3,200-foot runway that sits on a plateau about 50 feet above the river, which to me as a young aviator provided an exhilarating view when approaching runway 16 over the river.
I had planned my flight under the supervision of my instructor and just needed the weather and aircraft availability to cooperate. That day arrived in July, 1980. I had graduated from UMass that May, and had been making the 100 mile trek from my home in eastern Massachusetts to complete my training at 0B5 since then, but that was getting tedious – especially since I lived under the traffic pattern of Norwood Memorial Airport (KOWD). This would end up being my last flight from Turners Falls.
My flight would take me from Turners Falls to Portland International (KPWM); from there to Martha’s Vineyard (KMVY); and then back to Turners Falls; total distance: about 360nm. It would take me almost five hours’ flight time to complete in the club’s Cessna 152, N49394.
Flying into Writing: Amazing Contrast
By Eric McCarthy
Descending through the San Pasqual Valley (Rich Lee) I recently had the opportunity to fly with a good friend, Rich, in his beautifully maintained C-172. Our flight was to take us from Imperial County Airport (KIPL) to our home base, McClellan-Palomar (KCRQ). The contrast in terrain and weather along our route could not have been greater. Imperial sits 54’ below sea level in the middle of a vast agricultural area south of the Salton Sea, and even though we departed before noon, with clear skies, it was already hot.
Departing from IPL, we skirted El Centro Naval Air Facility’s airspace (KNJK) and joined V458 westbound to the KUMBA intersection, where V458 turns northwest bound to the Julian VOR (JLI). Just a few miles west of El Centro, the terrain changes dramatically from the miles and miles of lush greens and dormant browns of agricultural fields, to desolate gray desert, punctuated sporadically with cactus and hardy low bushes. The terrain starts to rise significantly as well, with peaks more than 6,000 feet, just 40 miles west of below-sea-level Imperial Valley.
What's Up: It’s Pucker Month so? The month of love and Valentines!
By Larry Shapiro
I love each month that has a theme. Some are good, and some aren’t. It seems that most have a food theme, and then I remember I write an aviation column, and I’m suppose to write about things that are suppose to make aviators happy.
It was at that point I remembered that making an aviator happy might be above my pay grade. Then I remembered how much alike we all are… but we are polite except for a few rude ones that sneak in. I know we all appreciate the kindness and help offered to us almost everywhere when we’re trying to survive a cross-country flight.
This reminds me how few pilots ever leave their zip codes or time zones after they are sitting on their private tickets. I’m serious! I have this discussion more often than I do about ice cream. Any new aviator that works with me gets the same suggestion: When you have 100 hours, beg, borrow, or even rent an appropriate airplane, and now the “kicker,” I beg, plead, and whatever it takes to get them to do the following trip, and… to do it solo.
Almost There
By Evan Isenstein-Brand
The engine starved and sputtered to a halt in my shaky hands. After several practice laps in the pattern, my instructor gave me a final handshake before neatly buckling his seatbelt across the seat and trotting over to join the crowd. I entered my focus mode, carefully examining my checklist before starting the engine again and receiving permission from the sympathetic tower operator to taxi out to the ramp.
Just like I had done dozens of times before, I made sure the plane was fit to fly and promptly received clearance to take off. The conditions were beautiful: little wind, few clouds in the sky, and only several other aircraft around the airport. It was the 4th of July. Of course the conditions were perfect.
An Interview with Bob Leuten
By Michael J. Scully
If there is one word to describe Bob Leuten, it is achiever. Bob Leuten is not a man who has ever been satisfied just waiting for good things to come his way. Bob Leuten gets it done.
A native of Cleveland, Ohio, Bob was a scholarship swimmer at Bowling Green State University where he made the record books more than once. After earning a business degree and completing the ROTC program, Bob was commissioned as an Army 2nd Lieutenant in 1965. Already having reached the highest status in HAM radio, the army applied Bob’s talents in the Signal Corps, both domestically and in Vietnam. Three years later, Bob left the army as a Captain but not before earning an Army Commendation Medal and a Bronze Star for meritorious service.
My Scary Event in Cow Country
By Charlie Briggs
It all started out very routine. The plane was a new model 150 hp, Mooney Mark 20 with less than 100 hours TT. The trip was for buying cattle. The weather was clear and calm. The route was direct from Amarillo, Texas’ Tradewind Airport to a ranch just south of Springer, N.M. on the east slope of the Rockies. Springer is on Highway 56 and approximately 90 miles west of Clayton, N.M. This route was to play a role in this event.
Landing on a smooth, grassy pasture near the ranch headquarters, I was met by the rancher. We spent the day looking at various sets of cattle. As evening drew near, nothing would do but “stay for a steak.” After an evening of exchanging “cow country tales” it was time to get home.
Contrails: First Flight
By Steve Weaver
First Flight
Once when I was little and played on the hill,
One wondrous evening, I dream of it still–
Mom called me to dinner, impatient, I knew–
So I lifted my arms up and flapped them and flew.
I lifted my arms up and flapped them, and lo!
I was flying as fast as my short legs could go.
The hill swirled beneath me, all foggy and green;
I lit by the yard fence, and no one had seen.
I told them at dinner, I said, “I can fly.”
They laughed, not believing. I started to cry
And ran from the table, and sobbed, “It is true–
You need not believe me; I flapped and I flew.”
I told them next morning, I told them again–
For years I kept telling; they laughed and I ran–
No one would believe me; I ceased then to tell;
But still I remember, remember it well–
One soft summer evening up there on the knoll,
Before life had harried the reach of my soul,
I stood there in twilight, in childlight, and dew–
And I lifted my arms up and flapped them and flew!
This was written by Southern author and poet Louise McNeil, West Virginia’s Poet Laureate for many years. It was written late in her life and while she was never a pilot or even so far as I know a passenger in a small airplane, she speaks eloquently of the yearning that lives in the breast of all humans, to defy gravity and soar above the earth.
Editorial: Good Old Days
By Ed Downs
A recent conversation with friend and fellow writer, Steve Weaver, sparked some memories and brought to mind a safety issue that has heads spinning in the magical world of FAA training gurus. As “old” pilots often do, we reminisced about the days when basic skills and common sense were considered “high technology.” Today’s version of “high technology” has progressed in the manner one might expect when having crossed into a new millennium, but some are concerned about that progression.
This writer turned back the mental clock and joined Steve in remembering how simple, and potentially frightening, the “good old days” really were. My “good old days” began in the mid 1950s. The flight school I flew with sold a “student pilot course” which included 12 hours of dual instruction in a Champ, and a 20-hour ground school. The cost was $175, including materials. The idea was that you were “issued” your student pilot certificate (solo and cross country endorsement) at the conclusion of the 12-hour program. After this, you were welcome to rent their Champs and go flying. Whether or not you decided to get a private certificate so you could carry passengers was optional. There were no multiple endorsements, no 90-day “solo sign offs,” or multitude of authorizations. The Champ had only a wind-driven generator that spun fast enough to recharge a battery if flying at about 10 mph above cruising speed, meaning the battery was constantly going dead! The low frequency radio could transmit on only one frequency and you tuned the receiver like a Motorola console radio out of the 1930s. There was no starter or workable nav system. With 12 gallons of fuel, all-important in-flight decisions had to be made in about two and half hours, or the “in flight” part of the trip came to an abrupt end. Drawing lines on big, 25 cent, sectional charts was the order of the day, with a whiskey compass and E-6B your only navigation tools. Knowing where you were and having alternatives in mind were essential, as even a mild wind could greatly affect your flight.
Falling in Love with a Cassutt, Part II
By Steve Weaver
Steve Weaver in the early ’70s with his Cassutt. (Photo provided by Steve Weaver)To anyone who has been stranded, immobile and silent on the side of a busy interstate, the whoosh of passing cars and the blasts of air from speeding tractor trailers rocking your vehicle is familiar. You sit in your crippled automobile on the verge and you change not a whit the traffic that ignores you and continues on its way. I can tell you though, when the stalled vehicle is an airplane, things change completely. Apparently, jaded though the public is, the sight of an airplane beside a busy road is enough to stop traffic. Within minutes multiple cars and trucks had stopped and I had dispatched one volunteer to phone the airport and tell my friend Jake to come to my aid.
In twenty minutes or so Jake arrived, a wide smile plastered on his face. Thankfully, with the cell phone still an invention of the far future, the police had not also appeared, and we began to noodle the problem of getting the airplane back into the air.
User Fee’s: Paying Their Fair Share?
By Ed Downs
I doubt that many readers of this editorial are completely ignorant of the war being waged against business and general aviation. Yes, we are talking about the “per flight” user fees that have been recommended by our pals in Washington, DC. The Office of Management and Budget (OMB, essentially the White House’s accounting folks), have recommended that all turbine flights be charged a $100 per flight service fee for “ATC Services.” Small, piston engine aircraft and aircraft operating in uncontrolled airspace are specifically excluded. There are other odious details, but this writer will assume that our readers are already aware of this well publicized OMB recommendation and that you have already responded to the request by multiple aviation alphabet groups to participate in a petition appearing on the White House website, “We the People.”
Early Adventure In My Luscombe 8A
By Steve Weaver
The early summer twilight was fading by the minute. Darkness was descending like a cloak on the rugged West Virginia landscape that was slipping by a thousand feet below the dangling wheels of the white Luscombe I was flying.
I felt the first stirrings of panic rising in my chest as the seriousness of my situation dawned on me and I stared frantically down at the lights of cars moving on the now invisible roads below. Inside them I knew were ordinary people, safely making their way home along familiar highways, following the bright beams of their headlights to the warmth of family and the comforts of hearth and supper. I wanted to be with them. I wanted out of this devil machine that was carrying me to my apparent doom. I wanted my mom.
It was June of 1962. The week before I had not only soloed the Piper Colt trainer at the old airpark where I was learning to fly, I’d bought a perky little Luscombe 8A the following day and checked out in it too. At that point I’d logged about nine total hours in the air, I’d soloed two machines and made one of them mine. My flying career was right on track.
By Every Yardstick, NBAA2011 an Outstanding Success
As the third and final day of NBAA’s 64th Annual Meeting & Convention (NBAA2011) drew to a close, National Business Aviation Association (NBAA) President and CEO Ed Bolen thanked Exhibitors and Attendees for what he called “a highly successful show.”
“What we are seeing is that the show is providing real value to the business aviation community, even in these challenging economic times,” Bolen said. “It’s clear that the Convention continues to be a must-attend event for anyone whose passion or profession involves business aviation.”
Learn to Beat the Hazards of Winter Flying
By Alan Smith
When summer and fall have passed and the hard cold of winter has set in we have to be careful in setting up our airplanes for safe operation. Fuel, oil and flying surfaces need special care and preflight preparation will take a lot longer than it did in the days of warm sunshine. Flying through winter skies, whether gray or blue, also needs special care as cold temperatures get colder with altitude.
On preflight being careful with your fuel is important. Never park your airplane with partial or fully empty tanks. We all know that on a cool summer night condensation will occur in partially full tanks, but, in winter, you could have ice in the tanks that would not show up in a cursory drain check in preflight inspection. Drain each tank separately by at least a quart into a transparent container and look for any solid contamination along with water. In winter, storage tanks, even those underground, can acquire rust. Fuel delivery from them drops off during the cold season and the reduction of underground temperatures can cause a slight shrinkage in metal storage facilities and let internal surface corrosion work into stored fuel. These tanks can also acquire water through condensation.
Smack In The Middle of a Thunderstorm
By Steve Weaver
I crouched miserably behind the instrument panel of the shuddering, heaving Aztec, listening to what sounded like a million BBs being shot against my windshield. I was reviewing my options as well as my sins, and I took what comfort I could from an observation that I remembered by someone who had been there; that when you’re really flying in hail, you won’t wonder if that’s what it is. I was still wondering, so this must still be rain. But rain like this I’d never seen. This was like being inside a garbage can that was being shot with fire hoses. I wondered how the engines could continue to run, since they seemed to be under water. Lightning was streaking on each side of me and almost at the same time the deafening crash of the thunder would for an instant, block the noise of the rain and even the engines. I was smack in the middle of a thunderstorm and I was not a happy young aviator.