ESSAY - FLIGHTWEST.
32 PAGES 15,205 WORDS
Day Three and Four - 4th and 5th July
The next morning, Ed said continental breakfast had been provided downstairs. We went down - only to find he had been helping himself to the Elder Hostel guests' breakfast. Their young teacher had been too shy to tell him about it ! We went along the street to eat at a fast-food outlet where we had supper the night before.
"Lady DYY" 'n me.
This would be the last leg in the U.S.A. We left Bemidji about eleven and flew directly to Winnipeg.
I had bought a large T-shirt with "The 33 well Known Aviation Lies" on the front and copied a poem about the pain of being a flying instructor:-
An instructor knocked on the Pearly Gate, His face
was scared and cold. He stood before the seal of fate, for admission
to the fold. "What have you done," St. Peter said, "to gain admission
here?" "A flying instructor, Sir" he replied, "for many and many a
year." The Pearly Gate swung open wide, St. Peter punched the
bell. "Come in and choose a harp, young man", he said. "You have had
your share of Hell!"
Shortly I informed Ed we were approaching Thief Lake. I have often heard that the average student finger travels over a map at a thousand m.p.h. (which a Cessna cannot do)! However, I thought I had gone beyond that stage. Not so. It must have been fatigue which caused this error, as I am not accustomed to flying day after day.
The land we passed over was deserted and looked marshy. Having always looked continually for places to land, this bothered me. Even if we landed safely, we would probably be eaten by mosquitoes. I tried not to think about it and amused myself getting cross-fix positions with the NDB (non-directional radio beacons) and VOR (vhf omni-bearing radio signals). Although the Loran will tell the exact course and distance, if one has to go around clouds, weather, military areas etc. it gets a bit confusing as to one's position. I thought about how great it would be if the Club could afford a Mooney or a Lear Jet! My mind wandered on the possibilities of getting bigger and better bank loans.
As I was flying with another pilot, Ed, I thought it would be ok if he read the various frequencies and Control Area information to me from the Canada Flight Supplement - but in my case that was not good enough. When I am approaching a control area I like to let them know well ahead - just in case they tell me to "go away and stay away". I normally write down all the information in large clear print on my knee-board pad and generally get organized. Also, I have learned from experience that, when I am solo, the Flight Supplement tends to flop closed at inopportune times. However, I decided on this occasion not to bother with writing everything down. Ed helped me as much as he needed, just to prevent infractions. I was still a nuisance though. As I turned final approach my eyes flicked to the Tower Control and I could see the figure silhouetted; watching through high-power binoculars. I could almost hear his thoughts: "Who on earth is this inefficient lady coming into Winnipeg International - What next will they allow in !"
I realized from the angle of DYY's nose that she was pointing into a strong cross-wind - and I mentally groaned. All that and an audience too. I should have known from the ATIS (Air Terminal Information Service), if I had written the information down and considered it all properly. Also, from the old pilot saying: "At any time all runways should be turned at least 45º to port or starboard".
I put the left wing down into the crosswind and immediately remembered the friendly instructor in my imagination: "Get that right rudder all the way down. Bring that nose round. There ! Perfect ! Hold it up to the horizon ! Don't let it land !"
DYY came down in a good forward slip. Landed gently on the left wheel, then the right, then the nose gear - and I breathed a sigh of relief. I always like to tell my passengers about cross-winds and side slips, even when perfectly done they don't feel good to passengers. It must be a bit hair-raising for passengers to suddenly see the aircraft come down all askew.
The Customs Officer came right out and passed us through as an extremely boring crew - having purchased only a T shirt in the U.S.A.
We fed and watered DYY, then took off for Carmen, which is a few miles south of Winnipeg. Ed has relatives there.
Ed had tried to telephone the Carmen Flying Club - no luck. Then he tried calling his relatives - no reply. Our concern was that the Carmen Airstrip is in a field. They had had weeks of pouring rain. It was also a cross-wind. This had potential for problems which I did not care for. We decided Ed would fly this leg. My soft-field landings tend to be ok until the last bit - then I come down too hard. We trod around on the lush grass of the Winnipeg Airport beside the taxi-way - it had drained pretty well, but how would it compare with the field at Carmen?
Out of Winnipeg I took my video-camera and began filming the interesting famous flat terrain. The roads, even from the air, were fascinating - straight, straight from here to eternity. The Red River wound its' way in huge S bends as though each bend had been drawn just so.
We flew a couple of circles over the Carmen Village and then went over to the strip.
The field was a bit bumpy, but well-drained and dry, thank goodness. Ed made a perfect crosswind landing, without lowering the one wing as much as I had done at Winnipeg (or so it seemed to me).
As soon as we were out of the plane, the delicious perfume of the air wafted around me. I closed my eyes and just sniffed. Exquisite, fresh, clover, a hint of dill, wheat: "That's the scent of the Prairies", said Elly.
Ed's relatives, Jim and Jean, were there to meet us and made us very welcome. They had been farming in that area for generations, but had just retired to a neat, comfortable home where we stayed. Jean was most concerned that the living room furniture had to "match", which it did beautifully. Jim could not understand this, but quietly tolerated it. Just like our friends back in Ontario. Jean served us a lovely meal and fresh strawberry shortcake to follow. We were very hungry.
After supper I walked around the estate to the main road. Those straight roads .. I suddenly felt vulnerable: like a pimple on the end of a nose or a blot on a white sheet. I walked as close to the side as I could. At that moment an enormous black Harley Davidson type motorcycle shot over the road toward me. With a black-leather-clad biker .. his black beard blowing in the wind. He swerved away from me again and I laughed to see perched very upright and aloof on the back of his bike; a beautifully groomed, snow-white poodle.
Then when I arrived back, Jim and Jean showed us a movie they had made recently on an African Safari. I hated to excuse myself, but I was so tired and developed a dreadful headache from the light and noise in the cockpit. It certainly is hard work flying a small airplane, as much as I enjoy it.
The next morning was less difficult to get up earlier - as we had gained an hour at Chicago.
We all walked to Church, just down the street. I had expected everyone to be very formal: ladies wearing hats, gentlemen in black suits. Not so; my pale blue jeans and shirt were quite acceptable. We all enjoyed the service and the beautiful floral decorations which the ladies in the congregation had provided.
Afterwards, we drove with Jim and Jean out to a woodland camp, where their children and grandchildren were spending the weekend.
On the way we passed through an interesting village, which was having the 125th year celebrations. The older homes had been beautifully decorated, the gardens tended. In front of each home was a board with the former residents listed, who they were, where they came from, what they did.
When I am not flying, doing my accounting, playing with my computer, walking or writing .. I'd rather be swimming.
It was a lovely day and all the children were swimming - so I decided to get changed and go into the pool also. After a while I realized my clothes were locked in the car. Just as well young Kelly, their helpful grandchild, had been following me around, showing me where everything was, fascinated by my Mary Poppins British accent. She happily fetched the car keys and my clothes.
We had a barbecue. I took a few more pictures with the video .. then it was time for the drive home. Jim stopped for me on the way. I had to get a picture of a typical cross-roads. It may seem a strange scene to video, but I have never seen cross-roads like that. One may see from the air: the roads only bend every so often to allow for magnetic variation.
Day Five - 6th July.
This morning Ed took over the "reins". Frankly I don't do mornings! As much as I admire morning people, I went off mornings many years ago. From the days when my sister would get me up at 3 a.m. to go fox-hunting. I did not have the clothes, the type of steed or the time. (I was supposed to be studying for the British General Cert. Of Education). We would spend the day frantically galloping after a quarry which we did not usually see. We were frozen to the marrow and frequently soaked with the rain and sleet; as fox hunting only takes place in winter. We must have been masochists .. and enjoyed every minute of it! Anyway, the upshot of it is that I am like a zombie in the morning and happily refuse to change.
As usual, thunder-storms and golf-ball size hail were forecast. We took off early before they started to form and headed off toward them like Don Quixote to his windmills.
Ed and Elly were to attend agricultural seminars and meetings near Brandon, so we were glad to be able to fly there in time. The Canadian Owners & Pilots Association had FAXed me a list of their recommended hotels and Ed had pre-booked at The Redwood Motor Inn.
The Redwood was very comfortable, with non-smoking rooms and my required swimming pool. There were several restaurants nearby and we chose Aunt Sarah's Family Restaurant, which served good meals with fresh salad and vegetables. I don't usually care particularly for bread. However, this was not bread .. this was ambrosia! I had no idea that fresh bread would taste any different on the Prairies, but it certainly did.
I took a note of the things in this restaurant:
Stuffed elk head on the wall.
Small, very old laundry wringer - the sort little children would get their fingers in the cogs .. my mother had one. The words carefully hand engraved "be sure to oil before using".
Large ceiling fans humming slowly around and the sound of sad, muddled country and western music.
Two farming buddies chatting softly and a quiet family of four talking and laughing. .. I went to get some coffee