One of those Flights...

Do you ever just have one of those flights where everything seems to just come together? Well I had one last week and it makes all those hours of studying, planning, arranging schedules and of course financing, worth it.

Our destination was a small airport at the tip of Cape Cod and our steed was a formidable Baron 55. Weather was looking good with winds out of the northeast and a scattered layer at 3000 feet enroute. I called a friend the night before to see if he was interested in joining me. I told him he’d have one of the best views of Boston’s morning skyline from the copilot window, he was sold.

I called up weather the morning of the flight on DUATS and filed direct from Nashua NH, not knowing what sort of route they’d give us to keep us out of Logan’s flight arrivals and departures. After pulling the plane from the warm hanger and preflighting, we were off to the run-up area along runway 32.

Having done my undergraduate work at Daniel Webster College, I was familiar with the airport and I couldn’t help but take a few moments to reminisce on all that I’d learned since getting my private pilot license here some 20 (ahem) years ago. Kids, family, countless preflights, articles, books, and stories separated me from that life of the innocent college student. I have lost much of my innocence of youth, but not the zeal for lifting off at rotation speed to see the world beneath me float away along with all its chaos, noise and politics.

After copying my clearance (they gave us direct Boston direct Provincetown), and making sure the IO 470’s were functioning properly, we were cleared for takeoff. “Let’s go flying.” I said, as I pushed the throttle levers forward. As always I was impressed at how much faster twins will accelerate than the light singles I’m used to flying. In no time we were up at 3000 feet enjoying the view and trying to keep up with the numerous frequency changes enroute. After only 30 minutes we were cleared for the visual by Cape Approach, and despite a hefty crosswind, the Baron handled the landing well. After cleaning up the plane and completing the shutdown checklist we sauntered into the quaint airport and enjoyed the views of one of the neatest communities in the Northeast.
Provincetown is home to but a few thousand locals in the winter months, but surges to over 30,000 in the summertime. We spent an hour enjoying the views of sand dunes, galleries and seabirds before heading back for Nashua.

The return flight was also uneventful with a few more vectors around traffic than on the way down, but still fantastic views and good company made it all worthwhile.

I hope you have flights like this one where all the hard work seems to pay off. I don’t think we should ever take for granted what it means to have a smooth flight where we think “wow, this is easy”. In my mind, that usually means we’ve done our homework and there is always something to be learned from every flight. At the same time, one of the things that I love about aviation is that it’s never seemed like burdensome “work” for me. I actually love reading books, flight manuals, practicing approaches in simulators and figuring out the nuances of a weather report. I can’t think of a better gift than a spectacular view of this amazing planet when all that “work” pays off. Safe and happy travels.

Speed Bumps

Flying in Maine in February is really more like running the Iditarod than a quick jaunt to the airport to pull the plane out, preflight and go. Such was the flight I had set up with a friend of mine last week as we were to fly from Augusta to Bar Harbor in a Beech single. The weather looked good, the engine heater had been plugged in, but wait, when did they decide to install speed bumps in front of the hangers?!

Let me back up…did I mention that Maine (and much of northern New England) is in one of the top 10 snowiest winters in history? And on those occasionally rare days, where the temperature creeps above 32 F, the snow turns to water and then, you got it, back to ice in front of the hanger door whose roof it just fell from minutes ago. Hence, the speed bumps.

We were comparatively lucky however. The hanger we were in faces south, and therefore the H2O stayed in its liquid form longer and therefore had more of a chance to make it to the drains before freezing again. Those with northern facing hangers had bumps that looked more like K2 than speed bumps. However, ice is slick and no matter how much or little there is of it, when it’s perfectly formed in front of your hanger, and you don’t have on your cleats, it’s very hard to get enough traction to pull your fully fueled plane over the one inch ice mound. Thank goodness for cell phones- this allowed us a simple call to the FBO to have the tug come over to pull us out. (After it’s rough start from a cold and likely overused battery).

Once over the mound we thanked the tug operator and finished the preflight and started without a problem. The good news about cold clear air is that airplanes really perform as more of those closely packed molecules mean more lift, and we were off the runway before the first taxiway climbing at over 1000 fpm with 30 miles of unrestricted visibility.

Yes, winter flying can take more effort, time and patience, but really… who cares. Isn’t the fun of getting out and above our earth worth the extra effort? Life puts plenty of speed bumps in our way, but those smaller ones which can be easily overcome with a call for help make the ongoing journey well worth the wait. Pass the hot chocolate please; I think that’s Bar Harbor off the nose.