Please take a moment today to remember those who died in the line of duty fighting the wars of our country.

It’s already that time of year, time for the Red Hills Fly-in! Sadly this event was cancelled last year out of concern for the health of our hosts, Jack and Myrna who are well into their 70’s. But this year we were all unafraid and pushed ahead with the fly-in on our usual Memorial Day weekend. The biggest change was that this year I truly had nothing to fly to or at the fly-in. Our flying club in Oakdale (O27) is closing it’s doors and I sold my PPC two years ago. To add insult to injury I was on-call for work this weekend so there was no way I could camp with everyone else. However, there was also no way I was going to miss it. It’s only an hour drive away so I drove up Friday and then again on Saturday to visit. We had a great visit with Jack and Myrna and caught up with old friends. Always a lot of fun.

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Can’t wait until next year!

An inflatable kayak. Seemed the best way to transport a kayak. Especially as we start full-time travel. I chose the Sea Eagle 370, big enough for two people and all the gear they would want to stuff in there. It inflates quickly and easily. I tried it in my garage and it went together quickly. We were eager to try it on the water so I picked a likely launch spot at New Melones Lake, near Sonora, CA.

We drove up to Sonora and had lunch at Schnoog’s. Then we headed over to the spot I had chosen. Then we ran into the first problem. It was muddy, and crowded. And full of boats playing obnoxious rap music. Eh… nope. We drove over to another part of the lake and after taking one look at the shoreline we decided that was a no-go too.

By now the wind started picking up. It was going to make launching an inflatable kayak challenging for the first timers that we are. We decided to walk up the shoreline to see if it got any better. Then we ran into this.

If the rocks weren’t enough, if the wind wasn’t enough, the vultures were enough to make us realize that this was not the day to go on the maiden voyage of our kayak! We have rescheduled for this Friday morning back at Modesto Reservoir. We’ll let you know how that goes!

A little over 4 years ago I got the news that I was about to be laid off. Again. I was working for McClatchy Newspapers and was told that within 3 months we would all be let go. I went into full-blown job search mode. I started sending out resumes, I started researching was I could make money online and go into business for myself.

In the middle of all that I began praying in faith to God. My prayer was, “Father, I know you have my next job already picked out for me. Please just give me the wisdom to recognize the opportunities you present me with.”

Within a month of praying that prayer I saw job posting at a county hospital. They were looking for someone with my exact qualifications. So, on the last day the posting was open, I applied and didn’t think anything more about it. A few weeks later a followup questionnaire was emailed to me. I filled that out and sent it back and then didn’t think anything more about it. A few weeks later I was called in for a panel interview. I interviewed with them but didn’t think it went particularly good. And then didn’t think anything more about it.

Then on a Friday afternoon I was called in for a second interview with the CIO and a few other people. One woman just kept staring at me like I was crazy. I answered all their questions. I had been doing at my last job exactly what they were looking for for this job. That afternoon there was an email in my personal email box from the CIO stating “I should’t tell you this but you got the job!”

God had provided for me… YET AGAIN! My family would be taken care of by GOD! So this is more than just a job. More than just a work anniversary for me. It is the anniversary of date that God provided for my family. I had prayed in faith, and God had responded to my faith. I’ve certainly done nothing to deserve it. But I feel the need to witness what God has done for me.

So Happy Anniversary to me and thank you God!

“Gone west” is a euphemism that pilots use to refer to a pilot passing away. I just learned this past weekend that a very special pilot passed away. His name was Bun Moreland. That’s right, Bun. He was a flight instructor. My first flight instructor in fact. He was the man that introduced me to the sky. He was the man that kept pointing out everything I was doing wrong. He was the man who used to try to mess up my airplane controls just to see if I was paying attention. He was stern while I was a student pilot. It made me a fair pilot.

I’ll never forget the day we met. I walked into Sierra Aviation and asked if they gave airplane rides. Merle Furry, the owner said they did demo flights. I told him I’d take one of those. You see, I was supposed to ride with a friend of a friend and they never showed up so I was determined to get my airplane ride. Merle calls to this balding older guy that looked more like a farmer in his plaid flannel shirt and blue jeans, “Hey Bun, this gentleman was to go on a demo ride.”

So Bun walks me out to the airplane and goes through preflight inspection with me. Explaining everything he was doing without even setting his coffee cup down. He told me to get into the pilot seat. I thought he’d tell me to move before we flew but he got into the passenger seat. He fired up the airplane and we taxied out. He did his runup (more preflight checks) and then taxied to the runway and took off. He told me to put my hands on the yoke and my feet on the rudder pedals, which I did. He then let go of everything and then said, “your airplane.”

I asked him what I was supposed to do now. He said, “I dunno, whatever you want I guess.” Simply awe-inspiring. But he did let me do whatever I wanted. We climbed we turned. After half an hour or so he talked me back to the airport pattern and then took over and landed the airplane. He walked over to the display case holding all the pilots supplies and filled out a logbook. The first entry (which I still have) turned out to be my very first flying lesson. I was hooked. It was the most expensive $20 I ever spent.

After I passed my checkride and received my certificate, he became a different person. He moved from stern instructor to mentor. Also giving me advice, which I took. Later still he became a comrade, a man who could find the humor in anything. I never would have guessed when I was his student. When we became peers, I found that the man could, would, and did laugh at everything, most especially himself. And more than occasionally, me. He taught me to laugh at myself.

My favorite Bun Moreland story was when I was still a student. We were on my first long cross country flight. We were over Sacramento, California and the engine started sputtering. He immediately called, “my airplane” and took the controls. He tried carburetor heat, mixture, magneto check but nothing would bring the engine back to life. He then called Sacramento Approach and declared an emergency. Air Traffic Control asked our intentions and Bun asked for the nearest airport. That airport happened to be an active US Air Force base. But in an emergency, you will be cleared to land there.

Bun had milked the plane most of the way to the Air Force base when the engine quit completely. Coincidentally the tower called us on the radio and said that our approach end of the runway was under construction and could we please land long? I’ll never forget the look on Bun’s face as he looked at me with a half smile, half what-the-heck expression. After a few seconds he looked back out the front and simply said “unable” on the radio.

As we were gliding toward the runway we saw it was indeed torn up but the taxiways were in perfect shape and much larger than our runway at home in Oakdale. Bun just side-stepped the plane over to the taxiway and continued our approach. I looked over at the runway and men were diving off their tractors and running. Trucks were speeding away from the runway as fast as possible. At the time I just thought, “huh, look at that.” It was much later that we found out that all those men know was that “an airplane is about to crash at the airport.” The had pictures of a huge cargo jet crashing and exploding on the torn up runway. That’s why they didn’t notice the little two-seat Cessna quietly gliding past them.

But set it down on the taxiway as pretty as you please. We were just congratulating each other when I pointed out a large barricade designed to warn other aircraft that the taxiway was closed. Bun wheeled our little plane around it, though how he could have missed is beyond me. It was almost as big as my house. We costed to a stop just as a fire truck also as large as my house rolled up with firemen in their moon suits pointing a huge foam cannon at us. I jumped out and put my hands up and said “Don’t shoot!” Though they didn’t see much humor in it.

First the fireman asked us what happened. Then security arrived and asked us what happened. Then all sorts of men in uniform started showing up and asking what happened. We spent about 30 minutes trying to tell the story and getting interrupted as the next guy that was higher up the food chain in the Air Force showed up. Finally we were stuffed in a security car and taking to the security office to make our formal statements. In separate rooms. That was another two hours of filling out forms. The last form was one Bun had to fill out. A landing permit, and that’s the one that finally set him off. “Next time I’m going to put us in a f…ing bean field!” But after the fact Bun found a way to laugh at almost everything that happened during that incident.

Another time Bun and Vito (another of Bun’s former students) flew their plane up to Columbia and I flew up in my plane. We all got on the ground and were just telling stories and lies on the ramp when we noticed a plane landing really long and fast. We were waiting for him to go around but many minutes later he finally came taxiing in. They all piled out of his airplane and everyone was arguing. Except for one small dog who jumped out of the plane and immediately started rolling around on the ground, sniffing the asphalt and licking it. Bun said, “Hey look at that dog!” I said, “He sure is happy to be on the ground.” And for some reason that just struck a chord with the three of us and we almost bust our guts laughing so hard. We still laughed at those stories every time we saw each other at the airport.

And now, that’s all that’s left of Bun. Oh, he had children but they never got into flying and I don’t really know them. But Bun’s stories will live on in my memory. Bun Moreland, the man that taught me to fly. The man who introduced me to the sky. CAVU Bun Morland. Rest in peace my friend.

Well this will go down as one of the epic days in aviation.  My daughter asked a couple of weeks ago if we could go flying.  After the shock wore off I told her OF COURSE!!  I booked the aircraft on the spot.  That was two weeks ago.  Of course a storm had to move in this morning… BUT!  It’s a California storm which means high overcast, wind from the south, and MAYBE some rain here or there.  Perfect flying conditions.

We got to the airport at 8am.  I was wondering what condition the airplane would be in because it was rented for the two hours leading up to my booking.  However, when we got there the prior pilot was walking out as we were walking in and passed off the key to me while letting me know he had topped off the fuel tanks.  Thanks random student pilot!

It was a little chilly so my daughter Angela sat in the plane while I did my pre-flight inspection.  Everything checked out so I couldn’t think of any reason not to fly.   We started up the plane, taxied down to runway 10 (since the wind was out of the southeast) and did my pre-takeoff checklist.  We took to the runway and started the slow climb up to 2000 feet MSL (Mean Sea Level).

At first we headed into the Sierra foothills but it proved to be a little bumpy there due to the winds from the south blowing over the hills and causing mechanical turbulence.  Instead I decided to take us back out over the valley and give Angela some flight time.  The whole point of flying was that she wanted to try actually flying the airplane.  And fly she did.  It was a little daunting for her at first but after she got a feel for the controls, and how you really only need a light touch, she really settled into it.  We just flow around Escalon and Riverbank and then over our house and church in Modesto.

The map above shows our general route of flight.  The yellow highlighted part is the portion Angela flew.

Or if you don’t read aeronautical charts, here’s a regular map with a simplified version of our route:

I think she did great and I hope she wants to go again!  I would love to have her as a flying buddy.  We’ll pick a time when the weather is better and we can fly longer.  Maybe head over the San Francisco Bay or over to Half Moon Bay.  But we’ll go somewhere.

 

This morning my flying buddy Jordan and I decided to take a quick flight from Oakdale down to Los Banos, just ’cause.  We hadn’t been flying together in a while and just decided to take a quick flight somewhere and Lost Bananas is just as good as any place.  The morning started out great.  It took a few tries to get the airplane started because it was pretty cold out.  But finally we were airborne climbing up into the silky smooth air.

The flight down to Los Banos was uneventful and we chatted happily (for us anyway) about life’s goings on.

We finally had Los Banos in sight so made a long lazy approach and perfect landing.  Good job Jordan.

We swapped seats and I taxied out to take off.  I finished off all the pre-flight checks and took to the runway, rolled on power, and off we went.  Then Jordan tells me his door isn’t latched.

Okay.

So that’s supposed to be one of our pre-takeoff checklist items:

DOORS and WINDOWS CLOSED and LATCHED……CHECK.

Who’s fault was that?  Mine.

No problem.  I tell Jordan that I’ll just climb out and when we get a little higher, I’ll slow down and he can shut the door.  I slow down to about 60 MPH and he still can’t shut the door.

No problem.  The slipstream is going to hold the door closed anyway so we just decide to fly back to Oakdale with the door cracked.

We make a beautiful approach back to Oakdale and I call all my pattern positions, downwind, base, final using my best professional pilot voice.  Except, something doesn’t feel right.  I’m too close on my turn to final approach and too high.

No problem.  I’ll just use all 40 degrees of flaps on the plane we were flying.  Most only have 30 degrees but not this beast.  I was still high when going past the first taxiway and I should be touching down at that point.

No problem. Go around.

I advanced the throttle, eased the flaps back up and tried it again.  Upwind, crosswind, downwind, base, final… Exact same result.

Huh.

Only this time I finally looked at the windsock.  Well there’s your problem.  We’ve got a fairly decent tailwind.  You see, we took off to the west on runway 28.  There was ZERO wind.  When we got back a mere 45 minutes later the wind was coming from the east meaning I should be landing on runway 10.  On cold mornings the cold dense air in the Sierra Nevada mountains just east of Oakdale starts rolling down the mountains.  It blows down into the low lying Central Valley for a few hours until things heat up and the wind starts blowing the other way.  And I KNOW THIS.

So I changed my pattern to land on runway 10 and made a beautiful landing, right where I meant to touch down.  The moral of the story is that you’re never too old to be a rookie.  If something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t.

Happy landings.