I'm not a real Pilot?

On Mar 31, 1:12 pm, "Maxwell" wrote:
"Walt" wrote in message
I once flew in an ultralight one August evening near Decorah, Iowa (my
daughter was going to Luther College at the time). Flying at near
treetop level in perfectly still air, taking in the sights and smells
of the woods and fields (and having the occasional bug smash into the
face mask of my helmet) it was, in my book, as close to pure flight as
I've gotten. And, while I don't have nearly the experience of many
people on this list, I've flown stuff from KC-135's to gliders.

Nothing compares to real life, my friend.

Can I ever relate to that. I can remember many cross country flights where
we often had to grab a little altitude from time to time, to cross power
lines and sometimes even fences. The lower and slower, the more real it
seems to become.

I have also had the opportunity on a few occasions to fly with the hawks. At
one of our hang gliding locations, it was not at all uncommon to either
follow or be followed, up and down the ridge line, by hawks often coming
within 50' of your wing tips.

But it doesn't take the fun out of GA either.

Thanks for refreshing the memories.

My pleasure. I fly a glider around the Bridger Mountains, which is one
of the biggest raptor breeding areas in the lower 48. I've spent many
a time trying desperately to work a thermal near Ross Peak, only to
look off my left wing and see a hawk flying formation with me, looking
me over, with a look in his eyes like, "You're hopeless. Not worth my
time". And then he'd start soaring above me and I'd be stuck still
working the same thermal.

OTOH, there was one time when I was flying a 1-26 out of Kelly Air
Park in Colorado, desperately looking for lift a few miles west of the
airport. I spotted five or six hawks working what looked like pretty
good lift not far from me, so I flew over there and managed to work a
pretty good thermal for a couple thousand feet. I thanked the hawks
profusely.

Then the thermal gave out and the hawks started flying further west. I
thought, "Hey, I'll follow the hawks and they'll find another thermal
for me".

Unfortunately they flew about a half-mile and landed in a pine tree to
rest. I wound up doing my one and only (up to present day) landout.

Not a big deal, although I had to buy the beer for the guys who came
to retrieve me and the 1-26. The rancher thought it was cool.

:)

I agree about GA. Taking off, early morning, easy flight in the Archer
down to Driggs, Idaho for breakfast with ten or so other airplanes
tagging along, easy conversation on 122.75 while flying up the Madison
River valley to Raynolds Pass, the retired airline pilot in the
perfectly restored Waco complaining because he has to take a leak,
then landing in Driggs and having breakfast at the Warbirds Cafe.

Fun time. You really can't put a price on that sort of thing.

I could tell the story about flying my daughter and one of her friends
to Powell, Wyoming to visit another kid they met at summer camp in the
Beartooths, but you're probably already almost falling asleep reading
this.

Bottom line: because of the trip to Powell there are two 17-year-old
girls taking flying lessons. That's the essence of GA, IMHO.

Enough.
--Walt
Bozeman

"Walt" wrote in message
oups.com...
On Mar 31, 1:12 pm, "Maxwell" wrote:
"Walt" wrote in message
I once flew in an ultralight one August evening near Decorah, Iowa (my
daughter was going to Luther College at the time). Flying at near
treetop level in perfectly still air, taking in the sights and smells
of the woods and fields (and having the occasional bug smash into the
face mask of my helmet) it was, in my book, as close to pure flight as
I've gotten. And, while I don't have nearly the experience of many
people on this list, I've flown stuff from KC-135's to gliders.

Nothing compares to real life, my friend.

Can I ever relate to that. I can remember many cross country flights
where
we often had to grab a little altitude from time to time, to cross power
lines and sometimes even fences. The lower and slower, the more real it
seems to become.

I have also had the opportunity on a few occasions to fly with the hawks.
At
one of our hang gliding locations, it was not at all uncommon to either
follow or be followed, up and down the ridge line, by hawks often coming
within 50' of your wing tips.

But it doesn't take the fun out of GA either.

Thanks for refreshing the memories.

My pleasure. I fly a glider around the Bridger Mountains, which is one
of the biggest raptor breeding areas in the lower 48. I've spent many
a time trying desperately to work a thermal near Ross Peak, only to
look off my left wing and see a hawk flying formation with me, looking
me over, with a look in his eyes like, "You're hopeless. Not worth my
time". And then he'd start soaring above me and I'd be stuck still
working the same thermal.

OTOH, there was one time when I was flying a 1-26 out of Kelly Air
Park in Colorado, desperately looking for lift a few miles west of the
airport. I spotted five or six hawks working what looked like pretty
good lift not far from me, so I flew over there and managed to work a
pretty good thermal for a couple thousand feet. I thanked the hawks
profusely.

Then the thermal gave out and the hawks started flying further west. I
thought, "Hey, I'll follow the hawks and they'll find another thermal
for me".

Unfortunately they flew about a half-mile and landed in a pine tree to
rest. I wound up doing my one and only (up to present day) landout.

Not a big deal, although I had to buy the beer for the guys who came
to retrieve me and the 1-26. The rancher thought it was cool.

:)

I agree about GA. Taking off, early morning, easy flight in the Archer
down to Driggs, Idaho for breakfast with ten or so other airplanes
tagging along, easy conversation on 122.75 while flying up the Madison
River valley to Raynolds Pass, the retired airline pilot in the
perfectly restored Waco complaining because he has to take a leak,
then landing in Driggs and having breakfast at the Warbirds Cafe.

Fun time. You really can't put a price on that sort of thing.

I could tell the story about flying my daughter and one of her friends
to Powell, Wyoming to visit another kid they met at summer camp in the
Beartooths, but you're probably already almost falling asleep reading
this.

Bottom line: because of the trip to Powell there are two 17-year-old
girls taking flying lessons. That's the essence of GA, IMHO.

Enough.
--Walt
Bozeman


No, I can relate. Many memories myself. It's all great stuff.

One of my favorites was featured in Hang Glider magazine back in the 70's. A
man by the name of Nealy was flying HGs around the Chattanoga TN area, and
was also a falconer. He had a pet hawk that rode on his own special perch
and would cast off and fly with him. Dropping back in occasionally to reset
next to Nealy on the HG.