Let us remember the reason for the Season...

And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear. And the angel said to them, "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!"[c]

Merry Chistmas to all!!!

Scudz

Getting Powder

They say a picture is worth a thousand words...

I have no idea where to begin.

Critters

Last weekend, hunting season came to a close here in New South Montucky. As an avid hunter and outdoorsy type of person I have enjoyed my time traipsing around the countryside with my guns in tow. This is also one of my favorite times of the year to fly. I enjoy looking for places to hunt while trying to spot game from my lofty perch.

Sometimes, much to my chagrin, the critters seem to find me.

For example, Cow Town, one of my usual stops has been a virtual goose gathering area. The Cow Town airport is located on top of the hills west of the river, surrounded by crop land on all sides. The open water of the river and the crop residue left in the field from the harvest is a goose magnet. There are about four flocks of geese numbering in the hundreds that I have had to dodge in recent weeks. Each flock sends up recon flights of 15- 20 birds to torment inbound and outbound aircraft.

My first encounter, an early AM arrival, had me lined up for runway 22. At about ¾ mile final the ground began to move. Not me flying over it, the dirt, like waves on a pond on a windy day. Suddenly I realized I was descending on top of and into a couple of recon patrols I had spooked up off of the earthen field below me.

Pulling the control wheel gently toward me and adding a little power, I arrested my descent and sailed above them to a smooth landing.

A few mornings later, departing runway 4, the solitude of the Cow Town morning was disrupted buy the sound of my engines turning avgas into massive amounts of noise. As the takeoff roll began I noticed that my gas guzzling, air breathing machine had launched an entire squadron of geese ahead and to my right.

Their flight path was much like mine. They departed parallel to the runway and began to climb straight out. They must have not been on the radio with the same controllers as me. The lead goose decided to take the squadron into a left hand turn across the runway towards the safety of the river. It was about this time that I became airborne.

As the wheels rose and clunked into the wheel wells I quickly realized that things could get messy in a hurry. Climbing would make an awful mess of blood and feathers so I pushed the nose over and headed down towards the pavement. 8-10 feet looked like a good place to level off. As the airspeed ripped through 120 KTS, it looked like I would pass below the now panicked geese which were scattering in all directions. I goosed (ducked), held my breath, and waited for the worst.

Surprised I had not heard or felt any impacts on the SUV I removed myself from the fetal position and started my turn for a left downwind departure.

I really don’t like encounters with birds any larger than your common robin or jay. Not only do these encounters with our feathered friends raise a pilot’s blood pressure, they can also have costly results as seen here and here.

I think that I like encounters with geese better when I’m the hunter.

Conspiracy Theory

Where in the world has Aviatrix gone? She has abruptly signed off to take a break from blogging. What event in the fabric of life could change the habits of a faithful daily poster?
Here are my additions to the conspiracy theories.

Is it possible that her recent tip to California yielded a job interview and subsequent move to the US? Maybe she got a job flying the company jet for a computer company that her friends work for. Or possibly flying for some rich individual in wine country.

Maybe it was Sam. I think he got her a job at that regional airline that he flies for in the Pacific Northwest. I know that they currently are hiring. I think that it would be fun to fly a Megawhacker or Barbie Jet

Better yet it was Sulako. I know his company has been looking for a few good pilots. They sure could use a good stick like our dear friend Aviatrix.

No, I know what it was. One of her faithful readers found a cure for DVT in Nepal and she has sold all of her possessions to go and find that Sherpa Medicine Man. Better yet what if she did move to the US to get an unrestricted medical certificate. I hope she comes to New South Montucky so I can buy her a cup of coffee and share “There I was…” stories with her.

My hope and prayer for her is this. She was successful on her Mammal Hunt and is now in ground school and just doesn’t have time to blog. Going through company indoc, learning SOP and systems is much more important than filling our pea sized minds with stories form the great white north.

Aviatrix my friend, Squawk VFR, frequency change approved. We’ll see you on the return trip.

I wonder if she got married….?

This is the Coolest...

thing I have seen in a while. Not anywhere near aviation related but worth a peek.

Nesting

There is this process in which pilots move into or out of an airplane with their personal belongings. The frequency depends on the pilot and the nature of the flying. Aircraft owners for example are not typically nesters in a sense as they may only nest a few times in a life time. Flight crews for example are frequent nesters, nesting into and out of several aircraft in a week. To me, it seemed that the thoroughness to which I nested into an aircraft has depended largely on what point I’m at in my flying career.

As a student pilot I was, like most student pilots, too naïve to understand the complexities of nesting. At that time all I ever needed was my logbook. It contained my student pilot license/medical certificate taped conveniently on the inside cover. The log book itself contained the various endorsements and authorizations from my instructor on the pages contained therein. Occasionally, when circumstances dictated, you would find the sectional chart that depicted the vast area of New South Montucky jammed inside the cover as well. The aircraft at the flight school where I learned to fly had headsets in them. As a result there was never any need to own a headset. Nesting into the training aircraft consisted of tossing my log book and its contents on the right seat.

As I entered University, it quickly became apparent that nesting would take on a whole new shape. I actually had to purchase my own headset, flight bag, course materials, flight syllabus, student copies of the aircraft flight manual, standard operating procedures, and standardization manual. Let’s not forget the 45 miles of checklists, new sectional charts, pens, pencils, calculator, plotters and my good friend the E6B. I never knew that pilots had to own so much junk. Flying was nothing like this back home.

Nesting at University consisted of lugging this gynormous flight bag plane side, and carefully and methodically placing the contents of the bag into the aircraft. First up was the headset. Necessary for communication (apparently), it was plugged into the aircraft intercom, the cords where arranged so that upon entering the aircraft you didn’t hang yourself, and the headset was placed on the glare shield or hung on the control column. The sectional charts were next, arranged and folded to depict the days current practice area and neatly stowed between the wall and the seat. The lesson plan for today and the aircraft checklist were removed and placed on your knee board for easy access and reference during flight. This was stowed under the seat and put on shortly after the cabin door was closed. The rest of the requisite materials remained in the flight bag until they were needed. Otherwise, the flight bag was placed in the center of the back seat and strapped in order to reach it during flight. Seems like something was always needed out of it at some point during the lesson. The heavy winter jacket and winter weather gear were stowed on the back seat in the vicinity of the flight bag. The aircraft keys were removed from the dispatch binder and placed on the glare shield and the binder put into the flight bag on the back seat. I was now properly nested to begin my lesson. All of these items were collected and placed back into the flight bag at the conclusion of the lesson.

Upon Graduation from University I went to work as a Certified Flight Instructor (CFI) in the Deep South. Nesting again took on a new look. This time, I was able to nest into my own office complete with a desk and file cabinets. Nesting into the aircraft was up to the student. The nesting materials of a CFI consisted of my headset, instructor copy of the flight syllabus, and if needed, a view limiting device. Most of the time I could even get away with leaving my belongings in the aircraft between lessons because I scheduled my lessons back to back in the same aircraft.

When I took the job in Big Town flying the Ambulance, nesting got easier. All I needed was my headset and the aircraft coffee pot. No office. No desk. Everything was kept in the aircraft save for the said coffee pot and the charts for the East Coast.

As I have begun to settle into the new job flying the SUV for Royal Air, it has become apparent that the flight bag and all the toys inside would become a necessity again. I don’t fly the same plane every day, my routes change, and I have come to expect the occasional charter. So now I have gone back somewhat to the days of University lugging around a bag full of headsets, pens, pencils, Jepp binders, The Good Book, company ops manual and a self issued Nalgene bottle. I take the time daily to take the required materials out of the flight bag and place them in the cockpit.

Nesting in and out of the various company SUV’s has become a fine tuned process. A process that can be completed in just a few minutes on a good day or less in the event of a sudden and last minute aircraft change.

I’m sure that other pilots have nesting routines similar to mine that they go through on a daily basis. My nesting routine, no doubt will continue to evolve and develop with my current job and my career. It might be fun to watch.

So, my friends, how do you nest?

God's Sense of Humor

It is no secret that I started this new job with Royal Air. Although the job is great, and I 'm having a great time, it is not what I pictured while praying and begging God for a new job.

You see, in aviation when pilots think about a new job they are usually thinking about and striving for a job that is Bigger, Better, and Faster than their current one. Apply the BBF principal in any way you like. Bigger plane, better pay, faster upgrade. Bigger pay, better work conditions, faster airplane. I think that you catch my drift.

When I thought of my new job, the plane was bigger, flew higher and faster than the one I was currently flying..AND had shiny paint and burned Jet A. I wanted to fly more hours, have a better schedule, and most of all, better pay. So I prayed for a better job. Mostly out of desperation , on those days when flying went from that "glamorous profession" to just another stinking job. (Yes, pilots have those days.)

So now the joke is on me. Hiring on with Royal Air I got exactly what I asked for, a better job. I got a better schedule, more vacation, a retirement package, and a $10K/ year raise. I didn't get what I saw in my head; A big shiny jet that went 400MPH and flew at altitudes where the sky turned blue. God is a funny man. It will be interesting to see how this job plays out in the future, and what impact it has on my career.

Decision Day

I've been in this rut lately where I'm tired of flying the Ambulance. Like most pilots I want to go bigger, better, faster. I'm the most junior pilot here with not much opportunity for advancement. I only get 20 - 25 hours a month with very little, if any Pilot-in-Command time. However, the time that I do get is all turbine. The management here has changed recently as our company has been bought out by non-aviation types looking for an investment opportunity. (enter hysterical laughter here) Although I don't agree with the decisions that they make, it is my job to carry out the policy and fly the mission. Right?

I'm one of those guys who regularly keeps his 'finger on the pulse' of what flying jobs are out there. I make it a habit to frequently visit webs sites, message boards and read trade publications that might advertise my next flying gig. I have laid awake at night praying that God would deliver me from this personal hell that I feel is my job. I have numerous resumes out but the telephone ain't ringing.

So out of the blue, a couple of days ago (ok more than a week) the Mentor offered me a job. I told him I'd get back to him in a week to ten days, as I was leaving the country for some much needed R&R. It gave me time to ponder my options. Althought the job isn't bigger, better, faster, it is actually, smaller, better pay, and slower. I've flown an SUV before, but I never thought that I would return to the cockpit of one. The pay is better; about $8 - 10K per year better. Plus, it would be scheduled flying. No more being tied to the cell phone and beeper. No more getting woken up at 3AM to fly half way across New South Montucky to peel some drunk teens off the road after they rolled their car after prom.

The Chief Pilot here at Diamond doesn't seem to want me or need me for that matter in the charter department, even though there are vacancies that need to be filled.

I guess it is time to write my resignation letter...

Royal Air, here I come!!!

The 'View

It is a typical day in Big Town, New South Montucky. I am doing my own thing around the house, hoping to get a few things done before the phone rings. I’ve debated whether or not to change the oil in the truck. As an Ambulance driver you tend not to get involved in too many projects that you can’t drop in a moments notice and hurry to the airport. Knowing my luck I would get the oil all drained out of the truck and then the phone would ring, beckoning me to go and fly the Ambulance. Then it would be a mad dash to change the filter, put the required six quarts of Quaker State’s finest into the engine, put my toys away, clean up, change into my uniform while driving to the airport, check the weather, pull the ambulance out of the hangar, and perform the preflight checks, all within the required 20 minute ready time. I guess the oil change can wait until I go off duty.

As I begin to mentally taste the adult beverage I would like to consume after work, I pull the mower out of the garden shed and right on queue, my pocket begins to ring with that all too familiar tone. Such is the life of an Ambulance pilot. I must go.

An hour and a half later I find myself sitting on the dilapidated couch in the FBO in Squidtown, NSMT, waiting for the medical crew to return to the airport with our patient. (Ironically Squid Town is where I grew up and where my parental units still reside. The owner of the FBO just happens to be the guy that taught me how to fly almost two decades ago. (It’s been that long?))

I pass the time thumbing through that latest pilot porn magazine, swapping ‘There I was…’ stories with my former mentor, when suddenly the conversation took an interesting turn. It went a little some thing like this…

“So, Scuds, did you hear that Orville quit me?” he said.

“Yeah, I did, sorry to hear that. Who’s flying for ya now?”

“Some temp guy from the west coast.”

Insert awkward silence here.

“Say, you should come to work for me!” he said excitedly.

Chuckling I said, “Man I don’t want to fly for you.”

“C’mon take yer turn in the barrel!”

“I don’t want to fly for you.” I repeated.

My mind now began to churn on this sudden job prospect.

“C’mon Scud”

“No”

“Going once”

“No”

“Going twice”

“No way.” My mind now running at Mach 4.

“Going..”

“OK! OK!” I interrupted. “Let me call you when I get home tonight. I probably shouldn’t be discussing this with you while I’m on duty and in uniform.”

I called him back earlier this evening after I had put the Ambulance to bed and had a few minutes to unwind. We discussed the details (schedule, pay, days off, benefits, etc.) and by the end of the phone call he had made me a pretty lucrative offer. I guess without even knowing it I interviewed and was offered a job today. Looks like I have some decisions to make…

Cleared for Takeoff Too

Allow myself to introduce, myself. My name is Scud Runner. Although I have had other jobs in the aviation industry, I’m what some may call a freight dawg.
I live in a small metropolis I call Big Town in New South Montucky.
I fly a cabin class twin engine aircraft (SUV) for a small company that contracts freight for one of the Big Box Haulers. I’m a thirty-something year old male that is old enough to know better and at times, is still too young to care. I fly a fairly regular schedule (4-6 Days a week) putting in the max allowed 14 hour duty days. (at least that is what the paperwork says)

I feel that I know my job and do it very well. (not cocky here just confident) I feel that it is important for a pilot know and be able to operate his or her machine in every corner of the flight envelope. I think it is also important for a pilot to know his or her own physical limitations very well and know where those boundaries are. Lapses in judgment and flying your aircraft out side of those limits can lead to tragic and fatal results. My personal limits may, at times seem too conservative or wildly excessive depending on your perception. I want you the reader to understand that when I do my job I try to make decisions based on sound judgment and the safest way to accomplish the task at hand. Keep this in mind as you read.

These are the stories of my adventures. I hope that you will enjoy them!

Cleared for Takeoff

So I have finally done it. I’ve ventured off into the wild blue yonder in an attempt to carve out a spot, or at the very least, make a mark in cyberspace. I guess the purpose of this blog is to share my experiences with my family and friends, and you, John and Jane Q. Public.

My hope is first of all to entertain my friends and family and give them insight into my life as an aviator/pilot. Pilots, I find, are still a mysterious bunch. The day to day activities we go through seem so mundane and routine to us, but are wildly amazing to those who are aviation challenged.

I’m not sure, exactly, where this adventure into the digital world may lead. You see, as we venture out to accomplish various tasks in this life, they inevitably take on a life of their own. This blog may not be a suitable forum in which I want to share my tales. A pod cast, I may find, is more suitable. We’ll have to wait and see. For now, here am I.

DISCLAIMER

My intent is to entertain and inform. It is NOT my intent to slander, libel, degrade, or belittle anyone or any organization that I am associated with, belong to or interact with. As the Pilot-in-Command (PIC) I reserve the right to change my mind or the rules on a case by case basis.