Alaska Gallery

It took a little while, but we've managed to sort through all our photos from Alaska. The best of them are are now posted on our Alaska Gallery site.

Enjoy!

A moment of contrast

There are moments in life when opportunities come up and the only thing to do is say Yes.

Just a few days after we returned from Alaska we turned and headed east for France. The occasion was a very special birthday party at the Louvre which we wouldn't miss for the world.
So, bonjour from Paris.

I cannot begin to describe what it is like to go from the vast landscape of The North to the thrum of Le Cite. Up there it was all about the earth. Here it is all about the people. There is no question in my mind which I prefer, where I feel more comfortable just to be.

Yet somehow, without this little experience as a bookend to our most recent adventure, the essence of the northern territories would not have become so evident, so distilled, so quickly.

Home from Alaska

The Flying Fish installed the mag on Monday, cast a last goodbye to the fish in Watson Lake, broke camp and headed south solo for home. The last two days of flying were challenging - mountains, weather, and no copilot/navigator - but 322MX flew true and he made it home last night.

We have thousands of photos to cull. When we're done, there'll be an expanded journal on this blog, and a link to the trip gallery. 

Getting unstuck

The mag arrived in Whitehorse yesterday and this afternoon a SuperCub was kind enough to ferry it on to Watson Lake. It should be arriving there about the time I'm boarding a plane to Vancouver. I'll be arriving in Seattle early tomorrow morning and the Flying Fish should be home in a few days.

Certainly never expected to finish out the trip with a sick plane and a ride on the Greyhound - but then again, it's an adventure!

;)

Stuck in the Yukon

Weren't planning to spend the weekend fishing at Watson Lake, but 322MX developed a cough. Turns out the left mag has failed and isn't getting power to the lower spark on the #1 cylinder. Spent most of yesterday tracking down a new mag and then trying to figure out how to get it here to us. Got one as far as Whitehorse today, but weather, intermittent bus schedules, and a national holiday here in Canada will make the last 350 miles the longest. May take another day or two for it to get here...

I've got to get back to Seattle by Monday, so I'll be taking an overnight bus to Whitehorse to catch a plane southbound in the morning - I hope.

Went as far north as we could...

From Igiugig we headed NW to the Ahklun Mountains. Overflew Tikchik, Upnuk and Nisblik Lakes to find the head of the Aniak River. Flew down the river to fuel at Aniak. Nome was socked in so we headed north to join the Yukon and flew it up as far as Ruby to camp.

From Ruby continued up the Yukon as far as Fairbanks, then turned south towards Denali and stopped at Kantishna. Got a good tip on some "airstrips" - really just tracks in the tundra - and camped out atop a mountain at the foot of Denali for a few days.

Back to Fairbanks for Solstice. Then up to the Brooks Range. Camped out at Lake Chandalar north of the Arctic Circle. Fueled at Bettles and headed north. Through the Brooks and past the treeline to Anuktuvik Pass. Then on across tundra and numerous small lakes in various states of thaw to the icepack of the Arctic Ocean. Found Barrow crushed up against the ice. Finally went so far north we ran out of earth. And by the way, it was perfectly clear and sunny and 55 degrees at the Arctic Ocean beach.

From Barrow to Deadhorse and finally a road. The first we'd seen since leaving Fairbanks. Followed the haul road south through the Brooks, back to the trees and camped at Wiseman.

Found and followed the Yukon east past Fort Nelson to Coal Creek, then stopped for the night at Eagle. Great town Eagle.

Followed the Yukon to Canada and Dawson city, then south to Carmacks where we picked up the Klondike Highway to Whitehorse, then the Al-Can to Watson Lake where the fish are still biting.

Hi from the Katmai Preserve

From Whitehorse through Haines Junction and on up to clear customs at Northway Alaska. Dodged a cell in Tok and hunkered down a little bit at Tanacross before heading through the pass to Gulkana. Got there on our reserve fuel and were happy to call it a day.

Next day we flew down the length of the Copper River - wow - to Cordova. Went back and spent the night at the foot of the Childs Glacier.

From Cordova to Valdez then out across the Prince William Sound. Detoured for an hour of mindblowing flightseeing over the vast Columbia Glacier, then on through Portage Pass and south along the Kenai Peninsula. Stopped for the night in Seldovia.

From Seldovia north to Homer, then on north past Anchorage and up to Talkeetna. Were happy to have someone else fly us up onto the Ruth Glacier and land within sight of the summit of Denali - in a 185 on skis!

Went to Anchorage to take care of a little business, and visited friends in Palmer.
Left Palmer to find more friends out on the tundra in the Katmai preserve - flew the north side of the Cook Inlet til we found the Lake Clark Pass, through the pass (hello bear!) and out the other side, down Lake Iliamna and across the tundra until we saw way out there past Igiugig - the Royal Wolf Lodge.

Well fed and well fished we're heading north again today. Maybe Nome is next...

Hi from the Yukon

Just a quick hello from Whitehorse in the Yukon. We've been flying since Friday as the weather allows, and hopefully the weather will allow us to get to Anchorage tomorrow. I can't begin to describe the awesome scale and remoteness of landscape we've travelled thus far. That'll have to wait to a later post - one with photos. :)

At the moment there's just time for the briefest of outlines, so here's where we've been so far...

Friday - left Paine Field in Everett, WA. Crossed the border at Boundary Bay, BC (south and east of Vancouver) from there we went east up the Fraser River valley (drop dead gorgeous!) and landed in Hope for the night.
Saturday - left Hope in low ceilings and ran north up the canyon past Cache Creek to Prince George. Camped for the night at Mackenzie.
Sunday - probably the most amazing day of flying ever - north up the Trench Route, past Fort Ware and on over 200 miles of uninhabited, undeveloped, untouched vast wilderness between the Canadian Rockies and the Cassiar Range. Landed at Watkins Lake where the fish are biting every 5 minutes and camped overnight.
Today - left Watkins lake and followed the Al-Can until we got socked in at Teslin. Weather cleared and we (along with another half dozen planes) ran the scud through the pass along the Al-Can to make Whitehorse.

Being proactive

Well, at least I got rid of the #@$#*!! $$@!# kidney stone before we took off.

Jeez.

322MX prep

Lots of final prep to do for 322MX so the Flying Fish has been spending a lot of time in the hangar checking things off the list.

Cargo nets, chart rack, quick-access life jacket storage camera holster, rod & reel rack, sound proofing (this was a Huge job, well done Luv!), fix the headset, update the GPS databanks, and so many more maintenance and tuning points too numerous to describe, oh, and of course, need to weigh the plane again to create a new weight & balance calc...

Five days to go.

Gearing up

Survival vests, backup camera, lights, guide books, charts, maps, GPS, bear can, bear spray, air horn, cyalume lights, solar panel, gaiters, hats, down jackets, shotgun, camera, tripod, tent, sleeping pads, sleeping bags, daypacks, mosquito deterrents, sting balm, med kit, light, clotting sponge, rehydration salts, supplementary meds, stove, water filter, cookware, water bags, and lots and lots of stuff sacks... 

Joining the Cast & Blast crowd

AKA Buildergrrl goes shopping, buys a shotgun and then the NRA shows her how to use it.

You're just going to have to ask me about this sometime. 

It was really something.

800 Calorie Survival vest

There's a saying when it comes to airplane crashes - what's on you is survival gear, what's in the plane is camping gear. So we each have a fly-fishing vest that we put on when flying over remote terrain. 

Since I know you're curious, here's my survival vest with all its contents splayed out. 

 

It all packs up like this...

 Back pocket:  folding cup, ziplock bags (2lg., 2sm.)

Inside left pocket:  PLB  (personal locator beacon)

Inside right pocket:  leatherman tool

Outside right top pockets: stormproof matches, firestarter (compressed trioxane fuel), bic lighter, sharpie pen, gel shot (Cliff, apple pie flavored, 100 calories)

Outside right bottom small pockets: cloth tape, duct tape, matches, gel shots (Power Bar vanilla, Cliff mango, 200 calories)

Outside right bottom large pocket: emergency bivvy sack, emergency bodywarmers (like handwarmers, only bigger), gel shot (Power Bar caramel, 100 calories)

Outside left top pockets: whistle, mini LED light, compass, mini deck of cards, gel shots (Power Bar caramel, Cliff mango, 200 calories)

Outside left bottom small pockets:  band-aids, neosporin, claritin, SPF 15 lip balm, string, gel shots (Power Bar caramel, Cliff apple pie, 200 calories)

Outside left bottom large pocket: burn gel, sting relief gel, antiseptic wipes, pocket survival pack (includes: magnifying lens, signal mirror, firestarter, fishing kit, needle & thread, scalpel blade, aluminum foil, wire, safety pins, and a tiny pencil and paper)

All together the vest and contents weigh four pounds.

Studying up on Bears

Bears figure large in the imagination of anyone contemplating an Alaskan adventure - myself included. Alaska has four bears of very different personality: Black Bears, Brown/Grizzly Bears, Brown/Kodiak Bears, and Polar Bears. All are different species, and all can eat you up. And if a bear decides it's going to have you for dinner, well, good luck to you then. 

So I've been reading Stephen Herrero's definitive study: Bear Attacks, Their Causes And Avoidance. A worthy book. And very scary if you read it from beginning to end. 

Basically, the first half describes various bear attacks on people, and they usually go like this: "Now it's very rare for a bear to attack a human, but here's an instance where..." and something grisly ensues. So I recommend starting in the middle of the book, where he starts to describe the characteristics of bears, where they live, what they eat, what kind of tracks and signs they leave behind. Then, after learning about them, go back to the middle and learn how to avoid them. When you're all done with that, then read about what happens if you mess up and find yourself in some kind of bear/human up close and personal encounter.

Good reading. Guaranteed to give you good dreams. Oh, yeah.

So I read up on bears. Then I went to the zoo and spent the afternoon watching the two Brown Bears around dinner time. Watched them "play" and beat up on each other with claws the size of my fingers. Watched them swim - pretty good at it. Watched them chase each other around at an easy lope - they're pretty darn quick. Those logs and boulders don't slow them down any. Watched them gnaw and claw on a log and basically tear it apart without too much trouble. And then I realized that these two were relatively small for Brown Bears.

Hmmmm. OK, so there's some perspective. 

Here's something interesting that one should know about bears - Black Bears and Brown behave differently around people. And they behave differently in different situations, and depending on what kind of mood the bear happens to be in. The one common factor in most bear/people interactions is this: the bear has more options than the person does. Usually, the bear is the one that makes the decisions. 

So it seems to me that avoiding a bear/person interaction is probably going to be the best place to start. To that end, we'll be getting a couple of marine-grade air horns which according to the research have been pretty effective in letting bears know that there are people around to be avoided. As our second line of defense we'll be carrying bear-spray. This high power super concentrated pepper spray has proven very effective bear deterrent. We'll each be carrying a canister in a holsters attached to the chest strap of our packs. As a last resort, we'll also be carrying a 12 gauge shotgun and lead slugs. 

The goal is not to have to use the shotgun. You're just as likely to piss the bear off as you are to kill it. But if it happens that the bear's got your sweetie in it's paws, what else are you going to do? Poke it with a stick? 

Big Tires

We're planning to fly to Alaska this summer. Figure we'll be flying over some fairly remote terrain, so it's good to be prepared. Got a set of Alaskan Bushwheels for 322MX and flew out to the beach to try them out.



There's actually a designated airport on the beach here in Washington at Copalis (S16). So we flew out with our friend Nick (who also has a lovely yellow Sportsman). Between the sand and the new bushwheels, it felt like we were landing on marshmallows. Very nice!

First Passenger

My mom was in town not too long ago. She comes out periodically to check up on the Monkeys and get a little Nana Time with them. While she was in town I screwed up the courage to ask her if she wanted to go for an airplane ride.

Actually, I was totally going to chicken out and not offer the ride and just go up for some practice but I when I mentioned it to the Flying Fish he called me on my cowardice. As he said, I could either have a regular old Saturday like any other sunny Saturday OR I could have an exceptional Saturday that would if nothing else be completely memorable. Well, he had me there. So I sucked it up and called my Mom and asked if she wanted to go have lunch on Orcas Island.

She chickened out. Then, after talking to my Dad who must have said something similar to her, she called me back and asked what time I would be at the airport and what she should bring.

We met at Boeing Field where I'd reserved a DA20 for the day. As I went through my pre-flight checklist and got my mom settled in the right seat she asked, "Have you ever flown before with someone who doesn't know anything about airplanes?" I showed her where the canopy latch was and ensured she had her seat belt properly adjusted. Then I said, "Mom, I promise not to kill you in the airplane" and I fired up the plane and off we went.

We flew up over familiar territory, over the tulip fields in Skagit Valley which were green as could be. There were a few farms with flowers, they might have been growing crocus bulbs given the season. It was a beautifully clear day as we flew along the foothills of the Cascade range. Across the sound the Olympics were in full view.

We cut across the north side of Whidbey's naval base airspace and headed out for a little tour of the San Juan islands. We circled over Decatur and then headed over to Orcas and came in low over the water to land runway 16. After we'd pulled into a parking space and popped the canopy I tuned to my mom and said, "You were my first passenger." Big grin.

Here's mom, happily landed on Orcas.



We had a nice walk to Eastsound for lunch spent a little time perusing the shops. Then we hopped back in the little plane and headed south down the length of Puget Sound back to Boeing Field in Seattle.

On the return trip, mom relaxed a little (and so did I) and in between keeping a lookout for traffic in the skies she snapped a few photos.

Departing Orcas.

The San Juan islands - that's Waldron Isl. in the center.

Seattle, with the Olympics beyond. Flying over Lake Washington.

Clear skies in February

We had some unseasonably good weather in February and I was able to get up in the air again for a couple of memorable flights.

On the second weekend of Feb. the Flying Fish and I went up for further flight training in 322MX. On Saturday we did slow flight, stalls, and a handful of low approaches over Skagit County airport (KBVS). The lesson ended with an actual wheels-down landing by yours truly. A pretty big milestone. Kinda like when your redneck boyfriend actually lets you drive his big 'ol truck down to the CircleK for the first time. But better. Way better. Because it's an airplane.

So here I am looking pretty proud of myself having landed the Sportsman.




We followed that up the next day with a scenic flight out to the coast. The coast was clear... all the way to Russia. Or Japan. We ran across a flying fish in Sekiu (11S) a little fishing town on the north side of the Olympic Peninsula. He's heading to Tokyo, 4400 miles to the west southwest.



And then headed out to Cape Flattery and Tatoosh Island where the cold Pacific pounded away at the rocky coast.




The skies were clear all the way out to Russia on the other side of the Pacific. We headed home at the end of the day and skirted the north side of the Olympic national forest - as formidable terrain as any we'd seen across the country. Hundreds of square miles of forest without a road to be seen. Once again, the perspective of flight hit home - it's a big world out there, and not too far from home it's a lot bigger and more remote than you'd think.

Dirty Laundry

Last spring I got my dream washer/dryer. I’d researched for a few months and decided on a stacking front-load set. They’re compact, they’re really water and energy efficient, they’re new and they’re awesome. Except for one thing… we live in the second floor apartment of a hundred-year-old house.

One of the things that makes the front-load washer so efficient is that it spins at a super high rate of speed. It’s a little like listening to a jet spin up, and as it spins up it vibrates at varying frequencies. So first the glasses rattle. Then the stuff on the counter rattles. Then the house starts to shake.

I leveled that machine within a gnat’s ass front to back, side to side and on the diagonals. I made sure that all four feet were in complete contact with the floor. I spent hours tweaking the bugger. Nevertheless, it was impossible to run the washer on the highest spin setting without getting that primal urge to flee. It felt like an earthquake. Not a big one - more like a 3.2 trembler than a full-on 6.0 rumbler – but even so it’s more than a little disconcerting.

So we ran the washer on a lighter cycle and that was better but the house still shimmied on the spin. It got to the point where I only did a load of laundry if I knew I was going to be out of the house by the time it spun up (17 minutes from pushing start). This usually worked - except for when my guy was working from home. On those days we either didn't do laundry or he'd have to suffer through the shimmy. Not ideal.

Finally, after about 8 months of mounting laundry anxiety we arrived at the conclusion that despite of all their positive green and earth-friendly attributes, the dream washer and dryer do not necessarily qualify as a home improvement.

I considered my options. I could install a concrete foundation from the ground up through the downstairs bedroom and up to our laundry station and separate it from the surrounding house structure using neoprene isolation pads. Or I could do a complete seismic retrofit of the house, adding hold-downs, seismic straps and shear panels across the main framing members in the building. Or I could put the washer and dryer up for sale on Craig’s list and go on down to Sears and buy an old fashioned energy guzzling water wasting laundry center with a top loading washer.

I chose the most expedient of the three options and went to Sears.

The dream washer/dryer set went to a friend of mine from work who plans to install it on the concrete floor in his basement. He’s really happy. He got a screamin’ deal.

And we now have a fully functioning super capacity old school stacked washer/dryer. We are very happy with it and the house is much relieved too.

Mac vs. PC

Overheard at the Dome last night by two shaggy-haired twenty-somethings:

"Obama's a Mac. Clinton's a PC."


True. So true.

Buildergrrl goes to caucus

One of the realities of living on the west coast is that national elections are usually called before the polls are closed. And if you're not living in California then nobody really cares cares how you vote. I've got friends here and in Alaska and Hawaii who've never bothered to vote for president before. But this year is different. With no clear front runner after Super Tuesday, all of a sudden our opinion actually matters. How 'bout that!

So I went to caucus today. I walked up the street, cut through the park and turned left to the Lutheran church. A few blocks out I noticed other people in ones and twos heading in the same direction. I joined the stream and we wound our way to the basement of the church. Inside we were herded by volunteers to maps where we could find our precinct. I found mine – a five-digit number in a block of the map where my house sat. The block was colored in with gray magic marker.

I committed the 5-digit number to memory. Shortly thereafter I forgot it again. I found another map table; this one had index cards and a pen on it. I stood beside an old woman and found my precinct again. The woman was just figuring out (evidently for the second time) that she was in the wrong place. Her precinct wasn't caucusing here in the Lutheran Church. The volunteer was patiently explaining that she'd have to go to another church a few blocks away. Except that the old lady was chauffeuring two "elderly friends" who were presumably wandering around looking for their precinct here. Hoo-boy. I wrote down my precinct number, made note of the color and stepped away from the table into the conga line of Democrats spilling into the hall.

We wound our way through a sea of bodies. Every few yards there was a table surrounded by a clump of people signing in trailing lines of people waiting to do the same. Over each clump bobbed a colored balloon. I hung tight in the conga line looking for gray balloons. We wound up the stairs to the main hall and I spotted them. At the far front of the conga line and inside the church itself there they were; a couple of grey balloons with my precinct number drawn on them in sharpie.

I approached the line to get to the clump and that's when I realized two things: A) I was surrounded by a crowd of people & B) I was in a church.

I happen to have a very strong aversion to both of these things.
I made the conscious effort not to flee. Instead I sucked it up and got in line to sign in.

I'd nearly reached the table when I realized the folks right behind me were my downstairs neighbors. Oh-hi! A quick discussion revealed that none of us had ever been to a caucus before and we had no idea what we were supposed to do or what was supposed to happen. Huh. A collective shrug of our shoulders and we signed in.

No identification necessary. Just step up to the sign-in sheet and write down your name, address, e-mail, phone number, etc. By doing so you affirm that you are a member of the Democratic Party, yadda yaddda. Then you write in your preference for Democratic Party Presidential Candidate. Unlike the state primary this is not an anonymous ballot. For the record, I wrote down Obama.

Then I milled around trying to figure out what happened next. The guy at the table with the thing in his ear said he'd be calling the precinct together in about a half-hour. Then what? He tried to explain but he was distracted by all the people and this was his first time doing this so he kind of bumbled. He did however have an agenda, which I took and read. The moment I realized that I didn't have to stay for the duration I decided I was out of there. There were way too many people. And churches creep me out.

Having decided I'd done my bit for Democracy I fought my way upstream along the conga line and out the door. The conga line wound it's way around the block. Woah. Whew, fresh air was good - that was feeling a little close in there.

A few blocks away I was finally starting to relax and that's when I began to kick myself for being a chickenshit. Then I chided myself for missing an opportunity to engage in the political process on the ground floor. Besides, if I went home now I wouldn't be able to explain to anyone what happened or how it worked.

I went home anyway. I made a cup of tea and took a few advil for the headache that was coming. Then I went back to the Lutheran Church to see what happened next.

There were even more people than when I'd left. Lots more.
I hid in the ladies room until it quieted down.

There was a guy standing up in front of the church explaining the rules. There were also groups in the hall, in the foyer and in the big basement room too. In the church itself were four groups – including my precinct. The guy was explaining that the first thing that'd happen is we'd break up into our precincts and they'd read out the first tally. Once the tally is done, a preliminary allocation of delegates is made based on the vote. Our job was to allocate our precinct Delegates to candidates according to the vote. The Delegates would then go on to do all this again at the Legislative District Caucus in April.

Our precinct had 80 people who showed up and signed in. Of those, 56 voted for Obama, 16 for Hillary and 8 undecided. This led to an unfortunate allocation of 3-1/2 delegates for Obama, 1 delegate for Hillary and 1/2 for Undecided. Unfortunately, you can't split a delegate in two. That would hurt. So we'd have to vote again until we got only whole number allocations between the three options.

So now we entered the second phase of the caucus. The part where the candidates' supporters try to convince others to switch votes. Those 8 people had to pick someone. And who knows, someone might change their mind. It started with the stump speeches. A guy from the crowd stood up on a chair and told us why we should vote for Obama. Apparently, Hillary is going to lose to McCain, and some other things that I couldn't hear because the precinct next to us got really rowdy all of a sudden. Those guys were really getting into it. Whatever it was. Couldn't figure it out while trying to hear the Obama guy. And then his minute was up. Whatever he said must have been good because he got a nice round of applause.

The Hillary lady stood up on a chair and though it looked like she was hollerin' pretty good, she was even harder to hear than the first guy. I caught the words Arkansas, Clinton, and Want. She got a good amount of applause when she was done.

Then an undecided voter stood up to support the "Undecided" point of view. Now this one I was really interested in hearing. I haven't heard much regarding Undecided's positions on the issues. Due to the rowdy precinct next to us I still haven't. I have no idea what she said. Not sure anyone else did either due to the uncertain bit of clapping when she finished.

So now we had 5 minutes to find the Undecideds among us and get them to vote for our guy. Or gal. Only one problem: which of the eight of us were they? Remember, this is Seattle, it's not like we'd want to put anyone on the spot by turning to the guy standing right here and asking "Who did you vote for? Are you undecided?"
oh, the horror.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence the guy in charge spoke up, "OK, how 'bout this: if there's anyone who is Undecided and feels comfortable identifying himself, um, or herself, ah, could you maybe raise your hand?"

Two of the eight Undecideds raised their hands.

Five minutes of milling about ensued while the rowdy precinct with the yellow balloons whooped it up on the other side of the church. The floor shook. Maybe it's the balloons, I thought. Theirs are yellow. Our balloons are gray.

Finally the five minutes were up and the second tally commenced. The results: 64 votes for Obama, 16 votes for Hillary and 0 for Undecided. Four of our precinct delegates were awarded to Obama, the fifth for Hillary. Nobody had to get chopped in two. Hooray.

We had a brief intermission from the interactive phase in which we listened to a good old-fashioned Anti-Bush stump speech This was cheerfully interrupted with editorial comments from the precinct-turned-peanut-gallery. Once we got all fired up we were buffaloed into an auction for donations to the Democratic Party. Who's going to give $10 to the party today? Five people will give 10, will five give $20? Oh, jeez.

Our buzz now thoroughly killed, we broke into the Obama group and the Hillary group to decide who would be our Delegates at the Legislative District Caucus in April. See, this is just the first step. At the April caucus, the districts get together and do all this all over again and winnow their numbers down to 2000 delegates, who then go on to the Congressional District Caucuses in May and winnow themselves down to a grand total of 97 Delegates for the state. Those 97 then get to go to the Democratic National Convention in August where our collected and distilled votes will be cast for the Democratic Presidential Candidate and finally counted.

The crowd had thinned out. Six people volunteered for our precinct's four Obama Delegates. So we got to vote again. 3x5 cards and pens made the rounds. The "candidates" wrote their names on cards and held them over their heads. They also got to say a few words...

• Sarah was super happy to participate and passionate about the Democratic Party.
• Michael was a Delegate four years ago for John Kerry and he regrets it – he'll do better this time.
• Aviva was for Obama and very pretty – that's about it.
• Carolee campaigned in Iowa for Obama and she's really excited about the whole process.
• Neal is voting for his first time and everyone in his school thinks Hillary's the one that can beat McCain even though they all like Obama better. He thinks that's stupid and that you should vote for who you want to win.
• Tom is a hard-core member of the Democratic faithful. He's been a Delegate before but would happily give up a seat to someone young and enthusiastic like Neal or Carolyn.

Cards collected, tallied and the results: Sarah, Carolee, Neal and Tom got our votes. They've made it to round two of the nominating process and will be representing us at the Legislative District Caucus in April.

Michael, Aviva and two others from the remaining smattering of folks volunteered to be the four Alternates (just in case one of our Delegates calls in sick or something). And that was that. We were done with our business. It took about an hour. Most of the other precincts were already done - including the yellow rowdies.

I got a red-white&blue popsicle on my way out the door. Thanks for being a good Democrat! It was overcast, cold, and starting to rain on the way home. I sucked on my popsicle and I started to wonder about what happens next. It might be interesting to participate in the next level of caucus. Watch the delegates turn into votes and get distilled again into fewer delegates and get sent on to the next level…

But not this year. Maybe next time. It'll probably be less crowded.

Planning for a northbound adventure

We're starting to plan a trip north to Alaska in 322MX. There's a lot to consider. We'll be flying over sparsely populated areas for long distances. We'll be travelling through Canada which has a similar-but-different set of rules for VFR flight. The terrain up north is bigger and more rugged than anywhere in the lower 48. And we'll be camping in moose and bear country.

I've collected the necessary charts for planning. The Flying Fish has ordered up the off-road tires for 322MX. We're talking to folks who have made the trip and we're assembling our gear.

The trip will depend largely on the weather, of course, but we're aiming for a June/July trip lasting about 3 weeks. It feels good to be planning another adventure.

First Passenger

My mom was in town not too long ago. She comes out periodically to check up on the Monkeys and get a little Nana Time with them. While she was in town I screwed up the courage to ask her if she wanted to go for an airplane ride.

Actually, I was totally going to chicken out and not offer the ride and just go up for some practice but I when I mentioned it to the Flying Fish he called me on my cowardice. As he said, I could either have a regular old Saturday like any other sunny Saturday OR I could have an exceptional Saturday that would if nothing else be completely memorable. Well, he had me there. So I sucked it up and called my Mom and asked if she wanted to go have lunch on Orcas Island.

She chickened out. Then, after talking to my Dad who must have said something similar to her, she called me back and asked what time I would be at the airport and what she should bring.

We met at Boeing Field where I'd reserved a DA20 for the day. As I went through my pre-flight checklist and got my mom settled in the right seat she asked, "Have you ever flown before with someone who doesn't know anything about airplanes?" I showed her where the canopy latch was and ensured she had her seat belt properly adjusted. Then I said, "Mom, I promise not to kill you in the airplane" and I fired up the plane and off we went.

We flew up over familiar territory, over the tulip fields in Skagit Valley which were green as could be. There were a few farms with flowers, they might have been growing crocus bulbs given the season. It was a beautifully clear day as we flew along the foothills of the Cascade range. Across the sound the Olympics were in full view.

We cut across the north side of Whidbey's naval base airspace and headed out for a little tour of the San Juan islands. We circled over Decatur and then headed over to Orcas and came in low over the water to land runway 16. After we'd pulled into a parking space and popped the canopy I tuned to my mom and said, "You were my first passenger." Big grin.

Here's mom, happily landed on Orcas.



We had a nice walk to Eastsound for lunch spent a little time perusing the shops. Then we hopped back in the little plane and headed south down the length of Puget Sound back to Boeing Field in Seattle.

On the return trip, mom relaxed a little (and so did I) and in between keeping a lookout for traffic in the skies she snapped a few photos.

Departing Orcas.

The San Juan islands - that's Waldron Isl. in the center.

Seattle, with the Olympics beyond. Flying over Lake Washington.

Friday afternoon from 5000 ft.

We've had a rare stretch of beautiful weather in the Puget Sound - sky's clear, sun's shining, and it's cold - it's just too nice not to fly. Last week I got checked out in a little DA20 and today I spent a little quality time getting reacquainted with the sky in it.

The DA20 is a cute little thing. It looks like a dragonfly and sounds a little like a riding lawnmower. Its sleek design allows it to fly pretty quick and it doesn't like to slow down. I definitely need to be a little more ahead of it on the landings than in the J3-cub or the 172. Then there's the added challenge of ground effect - which feels more pronounced on the low-wing than on the high wing planes I've been flying.

Essentially it boils down to this... configure the plane to slow down and descend, wait for it to actually slow down, configure the plane to land, bring her within a few feet of the ground, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, and wait until the plane bleeds off enough speed to stop flying. It takes twice as much waiting as I'm used to before the wheels finally kiss the runway.

So I spent a fair amount of time getting to know it today. I flew north from Boeing Field to Arlington staying high and close to the foothills. Just south and east of Arlington there was a group of three speedy planes chasing each other in the mountains... In the Mountains! They were amazing to watch - they'd climb up a few hundred feet, circle over a ridge line then drop and spiral a few hundred feet and peel out of the valley and do it again. I've seen eagles play like that, but not planes. They were having a good time.

The air was totally calm, wood smoke going straight up kind of calm, so I decided to brave a side trip up to Concrete. It's in a long valley just south of Mt Baker. I was up at around 5000' looking at the boot-track up to the summit and watching the Cascade Range unfold all around me as I flew up river. Found Concrete and flew by the dam there before turning around and heading back west towards the sound.

I stopped for a short break at Skagit then headed out over Puget Sound to the islands. Flew over Decatur Island and circled around... looked pretty quiet there. Only one boat in Reed's Bay and just one plane on the tie-downs. I'm not quite ready to land the DA20 on the little grass strip at Decatur, so I headed to Friday Harbor instead. Made an uneventful landing there and wished I had more time left in the day. But the sun was starting to lower so I took off heading south and flew over the length of the Sound back to Seattle. The city looked great as I flew by, just starting to pink from the setting sun.

Landed and parked uneventfully, shut down the plane, turned in the keys and then got in my car and went back to work. Looks like there's stormy weather headed our way again. Glad I got up in the sky and got a change of scene for a little while. It makes the rainy days a little brighter.