This morning's distraction comes from Tanya, who posted this make-your-own-quiz link.
Not having anything to do other than work, I took Tanya's test and made my own. Take my quiz! And then check out the scoreboard!
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Trip to Corning
The group of pilots at my home airport, the Cherry Ridge Pilot's Association, planned a fly-out for yesterday. Fly-outs are trips where several members in the group will all fly to the same place together, timing their arrival to coincide, despite the different performance of their planes. It serves as a social function, and a way to enjoy the hobby (obsession) of flying light aircraft.
Yesterday was to have been to Alton Bay, New Hampshire to land on an ice runway on a frozen lake. But when word came that the runway was unsuitable for landing, it was changed to Corning, New York; another area club was flying there, too. There is a warplane museum on the airport at Elmira-Corning, and the group planned on lunch and a tour of the restoration hangar.
I pitched the idea to Gail, but with a different attraction in mind; the Corning Museum of Glass. I'd been there many years ago, and since then it has been totally remodeled and doubled in size. It's sort of a hidden treasure in upstate New York, filled with beautiful art, antiquities and science. Lured by my promise of wondrous things to photograph, she liked the idea.
We arrived at the hangar a bit late to catch the others for lunch; most of them fly later-model planes that can outpace the Tri-Pacer by a few knots, so we would have had to leave sooner to meet them at noon. But we were going our own way anyway. The weather was mostly clear, but cold, with temps aloft of -18C. We took off into partly-cloudy skies and turned into the stiff headwinds from the northwest.
Even with the heater going full blast, it was slightly cold in the cabin. The walls and doors of this old plane are just two layers of thin synthetic fabric; and far from being pressurized, it leaks air around the windows and doors. As I checked that the outside air temp was in fact below zero (-20C), I recalled the flight home from Nashville, Tennessee when it was almost 100F. Temps in the cabin on that day were over 120 degrees (48C)! I have truly been to the extremes of temperature now... I hope. The GPS estimated 1:03 as our travel time to Elmira/Corning, and Gail got cozy next to me and fell asleep for a bit, once the turbulence died down.
By the time we got to Elmira, the cloud cover was solid just above us at 4500 feet. It must be a quiet town, as the controller cleared us to land when we were eight miles out. At the small-aircraft base we found that two of the three courtesy cars were out (probably with my mates from home!) and the third had a sick transmission. So we had to bite the bullet and rent a Hertz to get to the museum, but at least we had a good car for the day.
The museum was great - full of amazing things, bigger, and beautifully redesigned. Gail took a volume of photos, her account of the day is here. (Her photos were up Saturday night, she stayed up late posting them.) We stayed all afternoon and only left when the museum closed; we will definitely be back to see the things we missed. We had a great full supper at an Italian place in old Corning.
On the way back to the airport, I was shifting back into pilot-mode, mentally checking off my concerns about the cold, the dark and the weather. I called the Flight Service Station and got a loquacious controller, who advised me to file a flight plan, and warned me of approaching snow on the radar. It seemed to be getting bad to the northwest, moving in quickly with the prevailing wind; but our destination was still clear below 6,000 feet with 10-mile visibility. I decided that the best course was to leave immediately - conditions were still good to depart Elmira, and the bad weather moving in would likely last two days.
We bundled up and took off, and I was able to get to 3,500 feet with no trouble. We were flying in light snow, which concerned me a bit; I occasionally flicked on the landing light to look for any buildup of snow or ice on the plane. But visibility improved, with occasional patches of bright moonlight; and we were being pushed by a powerful tailwind. The GPS unit showed us covering ground at almost 140 m.p.h., thirty more than 02P can fly in still air. Gail slept and I flew as the villages of rural New York and then Pennsylvania passed below us.
In only forty minutes we were descending into Cherry Ridge, happy to see that the runway lights are all working now. (Thanks, Rick!) It was warmer than in New York, but only in a relative sense! We have our routine down; to minimize our exposure to the cold, Gail jumped out and pulled the car out of the tin hangar while I postflighted the plane and pushed it inside.
Yesterday was to have been to Alton Bay, New Hampshire to land on an ice runway on a frozen lake. But when word came that the runway was unsuitable for landing, it was changed to Corning, New York; another area club was flying there, too. There is a warplane museum on the airport at Elmira-Corning, and the group planned on lunch and a tour of the restoration hangar.
I pitched the idea to Gail, but with a different attraction in mind; the Corning Museum of Glass. I'd been there many years ago, and since then it has been totally remodeled and doubled in size. It's sort of a hidden treasure in upstate New York, filled with beautiful art, antiquities and science. Lured by my promise of wondrous things to photograph, she liked the idea.
We arrived at the hangar a bit late to catch the others for lunch; most of them fly later-model planes that can outpace the Tri-Pacer by a few knots, so we would have had to leave sooner to meet them at noon. But we were going our own way anyway. The weather was mostly clear, but cold, with temps aloft of -18C. We took off into partly-cloudy skies and turned into the stiff headwinds from the northwest.
Even with the heater going full blast, it was slightly cold in the cabin. The walls and doors of this old plane are just two layers of thin synthetic fabric; and far from being pressurized, it leaks air around the windows and doors. As I checked that the outside air temp was in fact below zero (-20C), I recalled the flight home from Nashville, Tennessee when it was almost 100F. Temps in the cabin on that day were over 120 degrees (48C)! I have truly been to the extremes of temperature now... I hope. The GPS estimated 1:03 as our travel time to Elmira/Corning, and Gail got cozy next to me and fell asleep for a bit, once the turbulence died down.
By the time we got to Elmira, the cloud cover was solid just above us at 4500 feet. It must be a quiet town, as the controller cleared us to land when we were eight miles out. At the small-aircraft base we found that two of the three courtesy cars were out (probably with my mates from home!) and the third had a sick transmission. So we had to bite the bullet and rent a Hertz to get to the museum, but at least we had a good car for the day.
The museum was great - full of amazing things, bigger, and beautifully redesigned. Gail took a volume of photos, her account of the day is here. (Her photos were up Saturday night, she stayed up late posting them.) We stayed all afternoon and only left when the museum closed; we will definitely be back to see the things we missed. We had a great full supper at an Italian place in old Corning.
On the way back to the airport, I was shifting back into pilot-mode, mentally checking off my concerns about the cold, the dark and the weather. I called the Flight Service Station and got a loquacious controller, who advised me to file a flight plan, and warned me of approaching snow on the radar. It seemed to be getting bad to the northwest, moving in quickly with the prevailing wind; but our destination was still clear below 6,000 feet with 10-mile visibility. I decided that the best course was to leave immediately - conditions were still good to depart Elmira, and the bad weather moving in would likely last two days.
We bundled up and took off, and I was able to get to 3,500 feet with no trouble. We were flying in light snow, which concerned me a bit; I occasionally flicked on the landing light to look for any buildup of snow or ice on the plane. But visibility improved, with occasional patches of bright moonlight; and we were being pushed by a powerful tailwind. The GPS unit showed us covering ground at almost 140 m.p.h., thirty more than 02P can fly in still air. Gail slept and I flew as the villages of rural New York and then Pennsylvania passed below us.
In only forty minutes we were descending into Cherry Ridge, happy to see that the runway lights are all working now. (Thanks, Rick!) It was warmer than in New York, but only in a relative sense! We have our routine down; to minimize our exposure to the cold, Gail jumped out and pulled the car out of the tin hangar while I postflighted the plane and pushed it inside.
Monday, February 14, 2005
Fielding Airlines, Flight 001
Since Gail has been flying with me for a while, and taking a lot on faith, I thought I would set out to answer some questions about myself and my plane; things that I may take for granted, and have been unintentionally keeping to myself.
The plane is a 1954 Piper Tri-Pacer. I bought it in September of 2003, and flew it home from Nashville, Tennessee, in a series of adventurous flights; I was learning the quirks of the old plane on the way home, and I only had a few hours in Tri-Pacers. Compared to a brand-new four-seat plane, it's cramped and noisy, and the view is obstructed by bracing struts and wires. But it's only about 15-20 miles per hour slower, uses two-thirds the fuel, and cost a tenth of the purchase price.
The Tri-Pacer is the last of a long line of Piper aircraft that began with the famous Cub. The Cub was a two-seat lightplane with 65 horsepower, and was built in the thousands from the late 1930s. It was rugged, easy to fly and performed well on its limited power. After World War II, there was a boom in general aviation, and the Cub family began to grow in power, comfort and capability. In succeeding models the engine power was increased and the fuselage widened to accommodate four seats; with the additional performance available, the long Cub wings were shortened by three feet on either side to a total of 29 feet span. This became the "short wing" Piper family, of which the Pacer was the most powerful.
The Pacer family already had an innovation for pilots of that era, landing flaps, which were never needed on the slower long-wing Pipers. In 1951, with the increased availability of paved runways, another feature was introduced; a nosewheel. Until then, only large transport aircraft had used "tricycle" gear - all light planes had tailwheels, suited to rough fields but more challenging to take off and land. Old pilots scoffed at the "training wheel", but the new "Tri-Pacer" was a sales success, and production of the Pacer ended the next year. Piper went on to sell over nine thousand trike-geared planes over the next ten years; almost three thousand are still flying.
Like the Cubs, the Tri-Pacer was made of a frame of welded steel tubing, with sealed fabric stretched and stitched over the body and wings. It was a rugged, labor-intensive style of construction that was used on nearly every plane since the Lindbergh era. In 1961, to compete with the increasing challenge from Cessna, Piper introduced the Cherokee series. Like its rival, the Cherokee was made in an entirely new way - all metal, folded and riveted aluminum. The sleek new Cherokee could be manufactured much easier - it had only half as many parts!
My "Tripe", N1502P, has very little in common with the plane that rolled out of Lock Haven, PA back in the Buddy Holly era - other than a tail number. The paperwork for every repair and service ever done to the plane is recorded in a little stack of logbooks, going back to 1954. In the late 1950's it flipped over on landing, with only slight damage - testament to the rugged steel-tube structure. One wing was replaced at that time. Over the years it has been repaired and slightly modernized, and it's been modified many times in response to AD's - Airworthiness Directives, which come from the FAA and carry the force of law. (Want to give an aircraft owner nightmares? Whisper "Ay Dee" in his ear. They can cost thousands of dollars, and the plane is grounded until they are complied with!) The 4-cylinder Lycoming engine is nearly identical to brand-new engines; it has been completely overhauled twice, and at the last rebuild in 1998 nearly every moving part of the engine was replaced.
In the 1980s, 02P was modified with stronger wings and a heavy-duty electrical system to carry a lighted advertising sign under its belly; today, the sign has been removed. And the tough fabric covering has been replaced twice, most recently in 1992, with a synthetic fabric and plasticized coating which is far more durable than the original cotton cloth.
Even though 50 years old, it still has to pass current Federal standards for airworthiness. I am required to have it inspected every year - and the process is nothing like an auto inspection. It spends at least a week being taken apart and scrutinized by aircraft mechanics, who must sign off on everything with their name and certificate number. Parts are X-rayed, oil is chemically analyzed, and many components are replaced based on their age, not condition.
It's a fun plane to fly. The instruments and radios have been modernized, although it lacks a few items to be capable of blind-flying. It is more challenging to fly than newer planes, which have a lot of built-in aerodynamic tricks to make them tame and stable. It needs to be flown; let go of the controls, and 02P will wander off in random directions of her own choosing. But the controls respond instantly; I can only compare it to the difference between a bread truck and a little MG sportscar.
As Gail will find out - it's my hope that she will start learning to fly on the old kite, and log the time officially once I'm an instructor. It will be good to have a second pilot aboard, and she might just enjoy it as much as I do. (And if she can fly 02P, she can fly anything!)
The plane is a 1954 Piper Tri-Pacer. I bought it in September of 2003, and flew it home from Nashville, Tennessee, in a series of adventurous flights; I was learning the quirks of the old plane on the way home, and I only had a few hours in Tri-Pacers. Compared to a brand-new four-seat plane, it's cramped and noisy, and the view is obstructed by bracing struts and wires. But it's only about 15-20 miles per hour slower, uses two-thirds the fuel, and cost a tenth of the purchase price.
The Tri-Pacer is the last of a long line of Piper aircraft that began with the famous Cub. The Cub was a two-seat lightplane with 65 horsepower, and was built in the thousands from the late 1930s. It was rugged, easy to fly and performed well on its limited power. After World War II, there was a boom in general aviation, and the Cub family began to grow in power, comfort and capability. In succeeding models the engine power was increased and the fuselage widened to accommodate four seats; with the additional performance available, the long Cub wings were shortened by three feet on either side to a total of 29 feet span. This became the "short wing" Piper family, of which the Pacer was the most powerful.
The Pacer family already had an innovation for pilots of that era, landing flaps, which were never needed on the slower long-wing Pipers. In 1951, with the increased availability of paved runways, another feature was introduced; a nosewheel. Until then, only large transport aircraft had used "tricycle" gear - all light planes had tailwheels, suited to rough fields but more challenging to take off and land. Old pilots scoffed at the "training wheel", but the new "Tri-Pacer" was a sales success, and production of the Pacer ended the next year. Piper went on to sell over nine thousand trike-geared planes over the next ten years; almost three thousand are still flying.
Like the Cubs, the Tri-Pacer was made of a frame of welded steel tubing, with sealed fabric stretched and stitched over the body and wings. It was a rugged, labor-intensive style of construction that was used on nearly every plane since the Lindbergh era. In 1961, to compete with the increasing challenge from Cessna, Piper introduced the Cherokee series. Like its rival, the Cherokee was made in an entirely new way - all metal, folded and riveted aluminum. The sleek new Cherokee could be manufactured much easier - it had only half as many parts!
My "Tripe", N1502P, has very little in common with the plane that rolled out of Lock Haven, PA back in the Buddy Holly era - other than a tail number. The paperwork for every repair and service ever done to the plane is recorded in a little stack of logbooks, going back to 1954. In the late 1950's it flipped over on landing, with only slight damage - testament to the rugged steel-tube structure. One wing was replaced at that time. Over the years it has been repaired and slightly modernized, and it's been modified many times in response to AD's - Airworthiness Directives, which come from the FAA and carry the force of law. (Want to give an aircraft owner nightmares? Whisper "Ay Dee" in his ear. They can cost thousands of dollars, and the plane is grounded until they are complied with!) The 4-cylinder Lycoming engine is nearly identical to brand-new engines; it has been completely overhauled twice, and at the last rebuild in 1998 nearly every moving part of the engine was replaced.
In the 1980s, 02P was modified with stronger wings and a heavy-duty electrical system to carry a lighted advertising sign under its belly; today, the sign has been removed. And the tough fabric covering has been replaced twice, most recently in 1992, with a synthetic fabric and plasticized coating which is far more durable than the original cotton cloth.
Even though 50 years old, it still has to pass current Federal standards for airworthiness. I am required to have it inspected every year - and the process is nothing like an auto inspection. It spends at least a week being taken apart and scrutinized by aircraft mechanics, who must sign off on everything with their name and certificate number. Parts are X-rayed, oil is chemically analyzed, and many components are replaced based on their age, not condition.
It's a fun plane to fly. The instruments and radios have been modernized, although it lacks a few items to be capable of blind-flying. It is more challenging to fly than newer planes, which have a lot of built-in aerodynamic tricks to make them tame and stable. It needs to be flown; let go of the controls, and 02P will wander off in random directions of her own choosing. But the controls respond instantly; I can only compare it to the difference between a bread truck and a little MG sportscar.
As Gail will find out - it's my hope that she will start learning to fly on the old kite, and log the time officially once I'm an instructor. It will be good to have a second pilot aboard, and she might just enjoy it as much as I do. (And if she can fly 02P, she can fly anything!)
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Test (tube) pilots
Friday night, Gail and I went over to Montage Mountain to go snow tubing. (See Gail's account at Snowtubing Postmortem). It's just 4 miles from our house; kind of smallish for a ski slope, but very convenient to have nearby. We haven't skied in a while, and I had never snow tubed - so we figured our marked lack of experience would be entertaining.If you've never been, the idea is to travel down a snowy incline after the manner of a sled, riding on an inflated truck tire tube.
Since the tube is round, it has no particular stem or stern, and will travel freely in any direction.
Since it is elastic and filled with air, it will transmit shocks from the irregular terrain to the rider, so as to eject said rider in a random direction.
Since it is smooth on the bottom, the coefficient of friction over the packed, icy snow on the ramp is quite low and provides a startling terminal velocity.
In short, great fun. Unlike skiing, where instruction is available and encouraged, anyone can go out and tube with no lessons or safety briefings of any kind. In this state we bought our lift passes and went up the hill.
There is a cable tow to pull you up the hill; a little awkward to mount and dismount the tube, and it made me feel a little lazy. Our first time up, confronted with the steep ramps before us, we cautiously seated ourselves on the tubes and let go. (You can ride upright, prone, or any weird position you like; again, no instructions!)
Off we went into the frigid night air - picking up speed fast. With my feet in front, I put my boots down to brake a little; instantly I was showered in the face with a spray of ice from my feet. OK, that's better; what I can't see can't hurt me, right? Spinning around, bouncing along faster...
Rather than teach the patrons to stop, the management found it expedient to simply stretch a broad net across the slope, to catch anyone who would otherwise shoot off the ramp and continue on down to the Interstate. It caught me; a moment later, it caught Gail, in grand fashion. She hit hard, so hard that the tube shot straight up and came down on her! But we were laughing, damp but undamaged, and we got in line for another try.
On my third run I switched to prone position, going down headfirst on my belly; the best way for speed and visibility. You have a modicum of control by dragging your toes on one side or the other, or both at once to slow down. Each time we went down, I got a little more confident, and a little faster, once I knew how much stopping power I had. Gail switched to headfirst, too.
It was getting colder, and we took a break to warm ourselves by the bonfire with some hot chocolate. When we resumed, the line was much shorter, so our runs came closer together. I noticed that the braking action was wearing the polish off the front of my leather boots! But by now I was hooked, and bent on raw speed. I could be almost airborne by the second steep section, really moving, and still stop in a shower of ice at the bottom.
We managed to squeeze in ten runs before the lift closed at 10:00, so we figured we got our money's worth from the lift pass. We were chilled to the bone, but it was a blast; we cranked up the car heater and headed down the mountain. Back home, we thawed ourselves with a hot shower, and settled in for a movie; but I was spent, and was asleep before the first hour.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Countdown from ten
From Katy, through Gail; a fun little listing game about yourself. If you play, post it or send it along.TEN random things about me:
1. Both my thumbs are double-jointed
2. I can swim like a fish
3. My vision is slowly improving
4. I have a streak of white hair at my temple; it's a birthmark
5. I'm a fair cook
6. Ridden in police cruisers, twice
7. I have perfect pitch
8. Once hired a sumo wrestler
9. I'm absent-minded
10. If you have a game console, you've probably seen my artwork
NINE places I want to visit:
1. The North Pole (seriously!)
2. Rome
3. Moorish Spain
4. Easter Island
5. Nepal
6. Moscow (Russia - I've been to Moscow, PA)
7. Hawaii
8. Paris
9. Argentina
EIGHT things I want to do before I die:
1. Get my CFI rating
2. Build a wooden sailboat
3. Skydive
4. Find someone alive on a SAR mission
5. Hang glide (I've done it, but I want to do it more!)
6. Learn to make music, somehow
7. Fly a DC-3
8. Blow out 100 candles *hee*
SEVEN ways to win my heart:
1. Be different
2. Have integrity
3. Hold my hand
4. Find the joy in life
5. Care about others, and animals
6. Enjoy flying
7. Chili dogs
SIX things I believe in:
1. Myself
2. Bernoulli's principle
3. Science and the natural world
4. Simplicity
5. Patience
6. Love conquers all
FIVE things I'm afraid of:
1. Disease
2. Cockpit fires
3. Losing my keys
4. Low overcasts
5. Heartbreak
FOUR of my favorite items in my bedroom:
1. Gail
2. Book "Song of the Sky" by Guy Murchie
3. Hugh - although he's banished from the new bed!
4. The new bed
THREE things I do almost every day:
1. Read
2. Spoil my cat
3. Daydream
TWO things I'm trying not to do right now:
1. Worry
2. Crash
ONE person I want to see right now:
1. Dan
Monday, February 07, 2005
Gail and Dave Take Manhattan (Again) (From the Air)
We slept in after our late arrival from Philadelphia, but the warm clear weather was persisting, so we couldn't pass up another great flying day. I had told Gail about flying around Manhattan, and we figured that today would be the perfect day. Breakfast (brunch!) consumed and cameras freshly recharged, we lit out for the airport.First order of business; chip away at the snow and ice that had the hangar door stuck fast. We both had half-destroyed our feet and shoes kicking at the ice when I saw Rick, the airport owner nearby; he quickly came by with his tractor and auger and helped clear the snow. Soon the Tri-Pacer stood brightly in the sun, and we folded ourselves in and took off. The trip across Pennsylvania and New Jersey took about 50 minutes; as the landscape below us changed from frozen lakes and trees to dense suburbs, I was carefully preparing myself for the navigational challenge.
The airspace we were flying into is the busiest in the world, bar none. To fly over New York City takes you into the triangle between Newark, LaGuardia and Kennedy airports - plus the helicopter traffic over Manhattan and the exec jet traffic into Teterboro. But there is a mousehole in all of this; the "VFR corridor", a narrow strip of airspace from the water up to 1100 feet over the Hudson River, which is reserved for small aircraft to safely transit this congested area. If it were not for this imaginary tunnel, small planes would have to fly miles out of their way to travel up and down the coast; and too, it affords one of the most spectacular views possible of Manhattan.
I planned on flying to a point south of Newark airspace and requesting a transit from south to north; this way, the city would be on our right, and Gail would get the best photos and views on her side, with the afternoon sun behind us. I boggled at the air traffic; jumbo jets lumbered back and forth above us, helicopters swarmed below. I was "handed" quickly and efficiently from one air traffic controller to the next, and I have to say that I got sterling service from all of them. We were given vectors to steer us safely through Newark's airspace, and our little 50-year-old plane carried us along through the 21st century traffic, at a stately 100 m.p.h.
We joined the banks of the Hudson River just north of the Verrazano bridge, and passed Liberty Island on the right; oops, Gail was on the wrong side for that one, but she reached over my shoulder and managed to snap a few frames of the Statue of Liberty. Crossing the harbor to the southern tip of Manhattan, I lined up on the east bank of the river. We were cruising only a few hundred feet above the highest towers, right over the docks; and we immediately noticed the gaping hole in the forest of skyscrapers that is Ground Zero. Gail was shooting every moment, and got a lot of amazing pictures. We passed a quarter-mile from the spire of the Empire State Building, where we had stood and photographed the city just nine days ago. (We were flying at 1500 feet; the spire of the ESB is at 1515'!)
We passed over the USS Intrepid, the aircraft carrier that is now moored on the Hudson as a floating museum; I resisted the urge to cut the power and circle in for a deck landing. As we continued north, we looked over Central Park and midtown as we headed towards the George Washington Bridge. Gail and I have crossed the GW many times on our trips to and from JFK; now we crossed it perpendicularly, a thousand feet up. Time for a few more photos, Columbia University and Harlem, and finally we were north of Teterboro, with open airspace to our west. I climbed and banked left, and poked at the GPS (ah, thank you GPS!) to set a course for Greenwood Lake airport in New Jersey.
Gail's morning coffee was making itself felt - too urgently for the long trip home, so I picked that airport as the first easy washroom-stop stop west of Teterboro. It turned out to be a neat place to visit, though - as I turned final, and Gail was recording my landing on video, I saw an unusual sight; a 1950s-vintage Lockheed Constellation parked on the ramp, towering over the gaggle of small planes parked around it. We parked and Gail dashed off as I took some snaps of the old airliner; its flying days over, it is permanently grounded now, but being restored as a static display and as office space for the airport and the flight school. We stepped inside to see the big cabin of the Connie, now with the seats removed and newly carpeted and furnished. What a neat place to have your ground lessons, in a classic old prop-liner! Not to mention the hundred or so bird families that were happily nesting in the undersides and engines of the plane.
Nature's call answered, we took off again and flew back the 45 miles to Cherry Ridge. We refueled and stowed 02P in her hangar and went back to town, famished, for a ten-thousand-calorie seafood dinner at Cooper's with my mother. Gail and I are looking at Cooper's as possible caterers for the wedding; but it was also her first look at the restaurant, which is huge and rambling and stuffed to the gunwales (literally - it's shaped like a ship!) with nautical tchotzkes and historic artifacts.
Gail and Dave Take Philadelphia
Since Gail and I spent the week cooped up at home and work, respectively, we traveled down to Philadelphia on Saturday to enjoy the nearest big city and the beautiful weather. Gail, who has been Many Places, had never been to Philly; and I hadn't been downtown in a long time. We considered flying down, but it's a leisurely two-hour drive from Scranton, and it's tricky to park the plane downtown.
We parked the car next to the Bourse Building, the first mercantile exchange in the U.S., opened in 1895 and now a food court. (!) That's not unusual in Philly; so many of the buildings are historic. Philadelphia has been a major city for over 300 years, and if you paid attention during your grade school history, you will know that it was the first capital of the United States, and the city in which the Declaration of Independence was signed.
We were a block from Independence Hall, home of the First Continental Congress, and near the plaza which is home to the Liberty Bell. But the weather was too nice to stand in queues, besides which I didn't want to lose another pocketknife going through security. (Even to walk by the Liberty Bell, you have to go through a metal detector and be searched. I imagined the ghosts of Franklin and Jefferson, shaking their heads at the current paranoiac state of life in the birthplace of American freedom.)
But we were both armed with our digicams and up for a good walk, so we headed uptown towards City Hall, grey and historic, built in 1874. Today the larger skyscrapers tower over it, but it has a commanding place in the center of the city; it can be seen for dozens of blocks in every direction. All along the way we photographed other bits of historic Philly, then decided to head to the waterfront for sunset.
We dropped down to the subway level to take a train downtown. The SEPTA stations are gray and utilitarian; very grim and dirty. I misread the directions on a token vending machine, and mistakenly purchased $20 worth! Oh well, I thought, we'll save them for another visit. But a few stops later we were down to Second Street, near Christ Church and the pedestrian bridge to Penn's Landing on the Delaware River. We noted that there were quite a few inviting restaurants in Old Town, and walked out over the bridge.
The biggest landmark in view was the Ben Franklin bridge, stretching over the broad Delaware to Camden, New Jersey. Huge container ships and barges ply the Delaware down here, and farther south are the immense dockyards and the Naval shipyard. Penn's Landing is a public park along the west side of the river, with several historic ships on display and a maritime museum. We took in the setting sun and photographed everything and each other, before our growling stomachs led us back towards the city.
Back in Old Town, we stopped and read menus in the windows of a lot of inviting restaurants, with many world cuisines; Afghan, Cuban, Indian, and others. But since it was Gail's first visit, we decided to find some "real" Philadelphia cheese steak sandwiches. We did, at a nice little grill (Steve's?) where we stuffed ourselves on some very authentic cheesesteaks, plus jalapeno poppers and crab fries.
On the way back to the Bourse, we passed a street guitar player; he caught my attention and began a fun little game. He played the opening chords of songs, first Hendrix tunes and then other hits from the sixties and seventies. Most were just a little early for me - very early for Gail - but I pulled out a few of them, and recognized all of the songs. Grand Funk Railroad, Bob Dylan, Iron Butterfly - groovy, man! Solid! I wanted to tip something into his bag, but I had very little change - but I did have all those damn subway tokens! He said that he rides the tubes, so they would be of use to him; I gave him most of my pocketful, saving only a few for our next trip.
On the way home, the hum of the car and the complex carbs of the giant cheesesteak put Gail to sleep quickly, and she dozed as I drove back to Scranton. A disappointing weekend for Eagles fans, but a good one for us.
We parked the car next to the Bourse Building, the first mercantile exchange in the U.S., opened in 1895 and now a food court. (!) That's not unusual in Philly; so many of the buildings are historic. Philadelphia has been a major city for over 300 years, and if you paid attention during your grade school history, you will know that it was the first capital of the United States, and the city in which the Declaration of Independence was signed.
We were a block from Independence Hall, home of the First Continental Congress, and near the plaza which is home to the Liberty Bell. But the weather was too nice to stand in queues, besides which I didn't want to lose another pocketknife going through security. (Even to walk by the Liberty Bell, you have to go through a metal detector and be searched. I imagined the ghosts of Franklin and Jefferson, shaking their heads at the current paranoiac state of life in the birthplace of American freedom.)
But we were both armed with our digicams and up for a good walk, so we headed uptown towards City Hall, grey and historic, built in 1874. Today the larger skyscrapers tower over it, but it has a commanding place in the center of the city; it can be seen for dozens of blocks in every direction. All along the way we photographed other bits of historic Philly, then decided to head to the waterfront for sunset.We dropped down to the subway level to take a train downtown. The SEPTA stations are gray and utilitarian; very grim and dirty. I misread the directions on a token vending machine, and mistakenly purchased $20 worth! Oh well, I thought, we'll save them for another visit. But a few stops later we were down to Second Street, near Christ Church and the pedestrian bridge to Penn's Landing on the Delaware River. We noted that there were quite a few inviting restaurants in Old Town, and walked out over the bridge.
The biggest landmark in view was the Ben Franklin bridge, stretching over the broad Delaware to Camden, New Jersey. Huge container ships and barges ply the Delaware down here, and farther south are the immense dockyards and the Naval shipyard. Penn's Landing is a public park along the west side of the river, with several historic ships on display and a maritime museum. We took in the setting sun and photographed everything and each other, before our growling stomachs led us back towards the city.Back in Old Town, we stopped and read menus in the windows of a lot of inviting restaurants, with many world cuisines; Afghan, Cuban, Indian, and others. But since it was Gail's first visit, we decided to find some "real" Philadelphia cheese steak sandwiches. We did, at a nice little grill (Steve's?) where we stuffed ourselves on some very authentic cheesesteaks, plus jalapeno poppers and crab fries.
On the way back to the Bourse, we passed a street guitar player; he caught my attention and began a fun little game. He played the opening chords of songs, first Hendrix tunes and then other hits from the sixties and seventies. Most were just a little early for me - very early for Gail - but I pulled out a few of them, and recognized all of the songs. Grand Funk Railroad, Bob Dylan, Iron Butterfly - groovy, man! Solid! I wanted to tip something into his bag, but I had very little change - but I did have all those damn subway tokens! He said that he rides the tubes, so they would be of use to him; I gave him most of my pocketful, saving only a few for our next trip.
On the way home, the hum of the car and the complex carbs of the giant cheesesteak put Gail to sleep quickly, and she dozed as I drove back to Scranton. A disappointing weekend for Eagles fans, but a good one for us.
Friday, February 04, 2005
A new approach
My small home airstrip, Cherry Ridge Airport (N30) near Honesdale, PA, has a new published instrument approach procedure! The new plate came out in the most recent update, and shows the GPS approach to runway 36, landing to the north.This means that instrument-rated pilots with appropriate GPS units can make a blind approach to landing, in conditions down to a 700-foot overcast. This is a useful thing for our little hole in the trees. The approach guides you from the initial approach fix, an imaginary point in the air called "TALLI", to the final fix, "AYUKU" over Lake Wallenpaupack.
So, as Ron quipped in his email, "TALLI-ho!" 13 miles to home...
Historic photos
I have scanned and posted a few pictures from an envelope full of photos I found in the estate of a friend-of-a-friend, a WWII veteran who passed away several years ago. They show his experiences in the Pacific theatre: his trip across, including an attack on his ship by Japanese aircraft; his base, a B-24 bomber group, from the air and from the ground; and a few faded Kodachrome shots of the jungle and a boat trip around the atoll.Also of interest to an aviation buff are some pictures of a few downed Japanese aircraft on the base. The U.S. never had very good intelligence on the Japanese aircraft industry until late in the war, so any intact specimens were studied carefully and a matter of security; a blackboard in one of the shots is marked "confidential". Since the actual model designations were not known, each Japanese type was given a codename - the best known being "Zeke" for the Nakajima Zero fighter. Some of these photos show the cockpit of a G4M "Betty" bomber, and a crashlanded D4Y "Judy" naval torpedo bomber.
I've been trying to date the photos, and locate the base. The fact that the bombers are B-24s suggests that it was before the introduction of the larger B-29s in the latter part of 1944; and the nose turret and unpainted finish marks them as late-production models. The tails have horizontal stripes, which may be a clue as to the unit. Also in the aerial photo is a P-47 "Thunderbolt" fighter; these were replaced by Mustangs later in the war, although this lone example may be a holdout.
The D4Y "Judy" type was introduced in 1943, and was rare for a Japanese aircraft in having a liquid-cooled engine; later versions were equipped with the rounder, blunter air-cooled radial engines that were more easily produced and maintained. This example had the liquid-cooled engine, very similar in design to the German inverted-vee Daimler-Benz. So my best guess for this little date-puzzle is sometime between 1943 and 1944.
There are two other items in the packet that are more personal, and serious, than mere historic interest and planespotting. One is a black-and-white negative of a woman and a small child on a tricycle; possibly his family back home. I will try to make a positive print of this one. The other is a murky picture of a cave entrance, strewn with damaged gear, and showing the bodies of several Japanese soldiers who were presumably killed when the island base was captured. I won't post that one, out of respect for those soldiers and their families.
Spiders: A rebuttal
Upon reading Socar's journal entry of today, A Spiderless Tomorrow, I felt compelled to offer a few words (Ha! Right, Dave.) on behalf of the spiders.
Many among us are guilty of spider persecution, or at least are horrified and frightened by them. Not me. For I know many wondrous things about the eight-legged, and the myriad little ways they are gainfully employed. Not like the insects, who are in the main a bunch of overbreeding freeloaders and ne'er-do-wells.
As Socar pointed out, they may well see us as the invaders. Spider history goes back 400 million years, to the Devonian period; we are a bunch of altered apes who came on the scene in the last 70,000 years. All spiders are predators, and the main item in most spider diets is insects. Their scientific class, Arachnida, is named for the Greek tapestry weaver Arachne, who was turned into a spider by the goddess Athena. So right off the bat they have a literary air. Unlike insects, they have lungs, and their blood - haemolymph - is slightly bluish in colour. True nobility.
They are clever little creatures. They live underwater, at the top of Mt. Everest, on six continents - and it's likely that a few have packed off to Antarctica with the human crazies that work down there. Scientists have been trying to synthesize a material like spider silk for years; it's at least five times as strong as steel, twice as elastic as nylon, waterproof and stretchable. And yet for spiders, it's child's play - baby spiders can make perfect webs shortly after hatching.
Fear of them, by humans, is largely unjustified. Any spider smaller than about 1/4" (8 mm) in body length cannot break human skin with their tiny fangs, and most spider species are smaller than this. Even the larger species will only bite humans if they are pressed into close contact. That said, there are a few species in Australia (legendary for its huge, poisonous versions of everything) that have very toxic venom.
Before you take after one with your shoe, consider their usefulness. They are sentinels against the insect population; our world would be awash in insects without a dominant predator. A few spiders in your house can and will consume hundreds of mosquitos, cockroaches, ants and other pests. By curtailing mosquito populations, they form an important link in world disease control; in the same way they save hundreds of tons of crops each year from harmful insects.
So, while I do not advocate living in a roomful of them - nor do I myself - at least consider a more peaceful coexistence. When you see a web in some remote corner of your home, remember that the occupant may well be doing you a service, and give her* a break.
*Male spiders do not build webs.
Many among us are guilty of spider persecution, or at least are horrified and frightened by them. Not me. For I know many wondrous things about the eight-legged, and the myriad little ways they are gainfully employed. Not like the insects, who are in the main a bunch of overbreeding freeloaders and ne'er-do-wells.As Socar pointed out, they may well see us as the invaders. Spider history goes back 400 million years, to the Devonian period; we are a bunch of altered apes who came on the scene in the last 70,000 years. All spiders are predators, and the main item in most spider diets is insects. Their scientific class, Arachnida, is named for the Greek tapestry weaver Arachne, who was turned into a spider by the goddess Athena. So right off the bat they have a literary air. Unlike insects, they have lungs, and their blood - haemolymph - is slightly bluish in colour. True nobility.
They are clever little creatures. They live underwater, at the top of Mt. Everest, on six continents - and it's likely that a few have packed off to Antarctica with the human crazies that work down there. Scientists have been trying to synthesize a material like spider silk for years; it's at least five times as strong as steel, twice as elastic as nylon, waterproof and stretchable. And yet for spiders, it's child's play - baby spiders can make perfect webs shortly after hatching.
Fear of them, by humans, is largely unjustified. Any spider smaller than about 1/4" (8 mm) in body length cannot break human skin with their tiny fangs, and most spider species are smaller than this. Even the larger species will only bite humans if they are pressed into close contact. That said, there are a few species in Australia (legendary for its huge, poisonous versions of everything) that have very toxic venom.
Before you take after one with your shoe, consider their usefulness. They are sentinels against the insect population; our world would be awash in insects without a dominant predator. A few spiders in your house can and will consume hundreds of mosquitos, cockroaches, ants and other pests. By curtailing mosquito populations, they form an important link in world disease control; in the same way they save hundreds of tons of crops each year from harmful insects.
So, while I do not advocate living in a roomful of them - nor do I myself - at least consider a more peaceful coexistence. When you see a web in some remote corner of your home, remember that the occupant may well be doing you a service, and give her* a break.
*Male spiders do not build webs.
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Reunited
and it feels so good... *groan* That was Peaches & Herb, cats and kittens, comin' at ya smooth and mellow from 1979. We'll be right back after this word from Kelly Tires.
Gail's flight arrived a bit early Thursday night, and I was at the airport a bit early. But that's the kind of thing that the busy ground controllers at JFK take no heed of, so her plane spent around half an hour getting to the gate. Still, I was happy to see her at last, and we headed for Manhattan. While we inched up the Van Wyck Expressway, Gail filled in her last few days for me; she had been working around the clock, packing up her apartment and getting ready for the move. All the better that we had decided to get a bed nearby and spend Friday in NYC.
Or so I thought. Travelocity hadn't informed the hotel of my reservation, so it took a phone call and fax to get us registered. But we finally herded our luggage into the tiny elevator of the Hotel Wolcott, an indifferently renovated 100-year old rack on 31st. It was inexpensive, and not really that bad; the lobby is nicely restored and very ornate. The room was rather small, and short on amenities (no coffee, no hair dryer) but we were happy to drop the bags and rest. We were both starving, so I ran around the block to an all-night deli (ah, New York!) for some overstuffed bagels and a hamentashen.
Late Friday morning, we overstayed our checkout time a bit while we redistributed and repacked the bags; then we stashed everything in the lockers in the hotel lobby and headed uptown, intent on lunch and a visit to the Museum of Modern Art.
But I got distracted only two blocks away; the Empire State Building was on our left, and it was a beautiful, clear (but very cold!) day. The lure of a great photo op convinced Gail, and we went through a weekday-short line for the elevators to the top. The conditions were perfect, cloudless blue skies and 95-mile visibility; we started on the southeast side and remarked how pleasant and relatively warm the weather was. After we both ratcheted away with our cameras for a bit, we had an encounter with some of the charcoal-grey pigeons who hang around the ledges. (As Gail wondered, how hard must it be for them to fly all the way up there? They are small birds, and it's over 1000 feet!)
The pigeons were standing hunched and ruffled against the cold, very like the street vendors 86 floors below. But they lost all of their New York ennui when Gail handed me the brownie we had left from the deli - FOOD! DIVE! They hopped right onto our arms, and I had four of them trying to remove the wrapper from the brownie. (Heck, two of them made a grab for my watch; I wondered where in the city a pigeon would fence such a thing.) While Gail snapped pictures, I managed to feed them a few walnuts without being pooped on.
Then we rounded the corner to get some pictures from the north side of the tower - and were instantly frozen by the icy northerly wind! BRRR! No wonder everyone was on the south side. I wrapped my scarf around my face and pulled up my collar long enough to take a few more pictures.
Back at ground level and a short cab ride later, we made it to MoMA, and were happily surprised to find that Fridays the museum is open later, until 8 pm. It's actually free after 4:00, but we paid the admission anyway (it's reasonable, and we figured to beat the freebie-crowd by a little while.) We had a great light lunch at one of the museum cafes and got started exploring. We started at the photography and design floor, those being key interests of Gail and I respectively. I saw the great old posters and industrial design items that have been in the collection for years, plus a lot of amazing new things, and we explored the photo galleries carefully. The newly-back-in-Manhattan MoMA is better than ever; the interior layout is clean, spacious and full of interesting perspectives on both the exhibits and the visitors.
As we worked down through the art and sculpture floors, the crowds got thicker, but not impossible; and Gail got some good observational photos of the visitors interacting with the artwork on display. Finally we wrapped up our visit at the museum store, and bought a few gifts for friends and for ourselves.
The second cab ride, back downtown, was much more satisfying - lots of full-throttle sprints, swerving and screeching of tires. Good to know there are still some real en-wye-cee cabbies! Back on the blocks around our hotel there was a whole string of Asian restaurants, so Gail chose one with a Zagat rating; Dae Dong, a Korean place. I had never had Korean barbecue, and there were a few items that were new even to Gail. But everything on the menu was very good, except for the translations (Gail giggled and wrote down a few of the gems; check her journal!)
Finally we collected the car and the suitcases, and set off on the dark, quiet drive back to Pennsylvania. Gail banked some long-delayed sleep, while I listened to the rich library of music on her laptop.
I'm glad she's here. We had a great day - and it's good to be home.
Gail's flight arrived a bit early Thursday night, and I was at the airport a bit early. But that's the kind of thing that the busy ground controllers at JFK take no heed of, so her plane spent around half an hour getting to the gate. Still, I was happy to see her at last, and we headed for Manhattan. While we inched up the Van Wyck Expressway, Gail filled in her last few days for me; she had been working around the clock, packing up her apartment and getting ready for the move. All the better that we had decided to get a bed nearby and spend Friday in NYC.
Or so I thought. Travelocity hadn't informed the hotel of my reservation, so it took a phone call and fax to get us registered. But we finally herded our luggage into the tiny elevator of the Hotel Wolcott, an indifferently renovated 100-year old rack on 31st. It was inexpensive, and not really that bad; the lobby is nicely restored and very ornate. The room was rather small, and short on amenities (no coffee, no hair dryer) but we were happy to drop the bags and rest. We were both starving, so I ran around the block to an all-night deli (ah, New York!) for some overstuffed bagels and a hamentashen.
Late Friday morning, we overstayed our checkout time a bit while we redistributed and repacked the bags; then we stashed everything in the lockers in the hotel lobby and headed uptown, intent on lunch and a visit to the Museum of Modern Art.
But I got distracted only two blocks away; the Empire State Building was on our left, and it was a beautiful, clear (but very cold!) day. The lure of a great photo op convinced Gail, and we went through a weekday-short line for the elevators to the top. The conditions were perfect, cloudless blue skies and 95-mile visibility; we started on the southeast side and remarked how pleasant and relatively warm the weather was. After we both ratcheted away with our cameras for a bit, we had an encounter with some of the charcoal-grey pigeons who hang around the ledges. (As Gail wondered, how hard must it be for them to fly all the way up there? They are small birds, and it's over 1000 feet!)The pigeons were standing hunched and ruffled against the cold, very like the street vendors 86 floors below. But they lost all of their New York ennui when Gail handed me the brownie we had left from the deli - FOOD! DIVE! They hopped right onto our arms, and I had four of them trying to remove the wrapper from the brownie. (Heck, two of them made a grab for my watch; I wondered where in the city a pigeon would fence such a thing.) While Gail snapped pictures, I managed to feed them a few walnuts without being pooped on.
Then we rounded the corner to get some pictures from the north side of the tower - and were instantly frozen by the icy northerly wind! BRRR! No wonder everyone was on the south side. I wrapped my scarf around my face and pulled up my collar long enough to take a few more pictures.
Back at ground level and a short cab ride later, we made it to MoMA, and were happily surprised to find that Fridays the museum is open later, until 8 pm. It's actually free after 4:00, but we paid the admission anyway (it's reasonable, and we figured to beat the freebie-crowd by a little while.) We had a great light lunch at one of the museum cafes and got started exploring. We started at the photography and design floor, those being key interests of Gail and I respectively. I saw the great old posters and industrial design items that have been in the collection for years, plus a lot of amazing new things, and we explored the photo galleries carefully. The newly-back-in-Manhattan MoMA is better than ever; the interior layout is clean, spacious and full of interesting perspectives on both the exhibits and the visitors.
As we worked down through the art and sculpture floors, the crowds got thicker, but not impossible; and Gail got some good observational photos of the visitors interacting with the artwork on display. Finally we wrapped up our visit at the museum store, and bought a few gifts for friends and for ourselves.
The second cab ride, back downtown, was much more satisfying - lots of full-throttle sprints, swerving and screeching of tires. Good to know there are still some real en-wye-cee cabbies! Back on the blocks around our hotel there was a whole string of Asian restaurants, so Gail chose one with a Zagat rating; Dae Dong, a Korean place. I had never had Korean barbecue, and there were a few items that were new even to Gail. But everything on the menu was very good, except for the translations (Gail giggled and wrote down a few of the gems; check her journal!)
Finally we collected the car and the suitcases, and set off on the dark, quiet drive back to Pennsylvania. Gail banked some long-delayed sleep, while I listened to the rich library of music on her laptop.
I'm glad she's here. We had a great day - and it's good to be home.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Winter, finally
We got our first appreciable snowfall over the weekend. It started about 11:30 on Saturday, I just got back in time to get up my hill without trouble. Then it kept snowing heavily through the afternoon and night, totaling about 12 inches (30 cm). Luckily it was a Sunday morning; commuting would have been a mess.I got up and out early to clear my sidewalks and driveway. All around the neighborhood was the whirr of snowthrowers, but my walks and driveway are small enough to do by hand with a shovel. I don't mind shoveling if I'm not in a hurry, it's pleasant work, although I'm feeling it in my back today. I was tempted to stay outside and play after I was done - I haven't made a snowman in years - but it was also very cold and windy, and I wasn't sure that my toes were still attached, so I went inside.
Later last night, the temperature dropped even lower; -1F, about -17C. My kitchen sink pipes froze, as expected, but the worst was yet to come. The soil pipe froze at the trap where it exits the house (the cold air goes down the vent pipe) and backed up my downstairs toilet. It didn't overflow into the bathroom, but instead geysered out of my utility sink in the basement. As I went to work on the trap with a propane torch, I heard more water splashing out of the sink; I had forgotten that I had a load of laundry going! So now the dirty water was joined by soap suds... argh.
I finally got the trap open again, and put a space heater there to keep it flowing until things warm up, and swept the dirty water down the French drain (THAT still worked, thankfully). Now I have a dehumidifier running in the basement, and a humidifier running in the bedroom. Ah, the manifold joys of home ownership.
I should have made the snowman. Plenty of snow left, maybe I'll pick up some carrots on the way home.
Friday, January 21, 2005
The China Clippers
Aviation history is my most serious geek-pursuit. I've been reading about flying, planes and pilots since I was 14 - and that's about a quarter-century, boys and girls. I am an unbeatable aviation trivia machine. So when Gail wrote about her search for airfare to the Philippines, it called to mind the story of the first commercial transpacific flight, in the 1930s - the age of the China Clippers.Pan American Airways was the undisputed pioneer in over-the-ocean flying; they offered the first commercial service across the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, having developed their planes and techniques on air service to South America. Since large airports didn't exist at the time, and airplane engines not as reliable as they are today, it made sense for the first large airliners to be seaplanes - flying boats, large aircraft with boat-hull bottoms. It did away with the need for long runways, and gave the option of landing in the water in case of critical engine failures, or fuel exhaustion.
Pan Am's colorful president, Juan Terry Trippe, had gone about setting up air service across the Pacific with a zeal that bordered on piracy. Determined to be the first, and where possible the only such service, he secured landing rights in Hong Kong and Macao, and built bases and hotels on Wake Island and Guam. Before the aircraft were even available to fly the long distances, Trippe had a virtual lock on the route.
Finally in 1935 the plane was ready that could do the job: the Martin C-130, by far the largest plane ever built, and the most expensive. (Pan Am had a history of being the launch customer for such planes, from the 1920s through the introduction of the Boeing 747.) There were only three ever built, but they were the most famous commercial planes of their time. Christened China Clipper, Philippine Clipper and Hawaii Clipper, they went into service in 1936.
The clippers flew low and slow by today's standard, about 150 m.p.h., and there were no advanced navigation radios or methods. Neither was there any accurate weather forecasting for the vast areas of ocean to be crossed. Navigation was done by the stars, when they could be seen through the Clipper's dome window. The Pan Am route took its passengers (no more than 18, when full fuel had to be carried) from San Francisco to Manila with stops at Honolulu, Midway, Wake Island, and Guam. The China Clipper inaugurated the service and set the standard for flying time - 57 hours, 42 minutes. A long trip, but the Clippers offered five-star cuisine and luxury accommodations like a fine ocean liner.
The Clipper flights were listed in the shipping register just like the passenger liners, and Pan Am ran everything in a nautical fashion - which is why all pilots today are called Captains, and wear four stripes on their sleeve; and also why airspeed is measured in knots, nautical miles per hour. Pilots flying jets over oceans today use some of the same navigation routes and techniques developed by Pan Am in the 1930s.
The Philippine Clipper began service in 1936 and flew the Pacific route right up until the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. When the attack came, the crew was in the air headed east toward Guam. Notified of the attack by radio - "Case 7, Condition A" - they turned around and headed back to Wake Island. There, while floating in the lagoon, they endured a strafing attack by Japanese fighters that put over 90 holes in the big flying boat, but miraculously didn't set it afire. Overloaded with all of the Pan Am personnel on the island - save one - Captain Hamilton coaxed the plane into the air on the third try, and made it back to Honolulu. (The poor soul left behind, Waldo Raugust, was driving an ambulance for wounded Wake Island natives and civilians. He paid for his bravery with four years in a Japanese prison camp.)
Remarkable stories, from when flying was an adventure. Something to think about while whistling along seven miles up, just under the speed of sound.
(Painting, "Hong Kong Clipper" by Stan Stokes.)
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Vancouver Diary, Pt. VII - The Final Chapter
January 1st - Meet the Seattleites!
A fine start to the new year, but sadly it was time to pack up and leave Vancouver. Since I had an early-morning flight from SeaTac on the 2nd, Gail and I booked an airport hotel for the night and traveled to Seattle to meet some of the Seattle area Orkut crowd; Karl, Eric, Krisanne, and Francesca. (Clockwise from my left in the picture.) My big opportunity to meet everyone and put voices with faces - too bad I couldn't afford them the same chance, with my laryngitis! Hot coffee and beer made it possible for me to converse, though.
I had been long looking forward to this meetup; I've had a lot of fun online with the Seattleites. (Most of whom come from somewhere else, not unusual in that sprawling place). We met them at a coffee shop and lit out to find a restaurant in Krisanne's neighborhood. After rejecting a few closed and crowded places, we found a good grille in which to sit, feast and chat. I passed around Gail's engagement ring and the wedding ring, to show how they fit together. Everyone was as friendly and fun as they are online, and we managed to communicate without the use of emoticons.
Back at Krisanne's nice walkup apartment, we continued the chat and engaged in Orkut gossip (which I'm forever behind on.) Nowhere near the tech level of the Albany meetup, but with the essential geekiness intact; Krisanne brought out her laptop so that we could laugh at some video clips online. (A revealing social experiment; we watched a clip which substituted the SuperFriends from the old animated series for the guys in the Budweiser "Whassup" advert. The Americans: all ringing with laughter. Canada, represented by Gail: no reaction. As with beer, apparently it takes stronger stuff to amuse the wry Canuck.)
We were all hanging on Krisanne's skydiving stories, too. She showed us a video of her last jump; she's learning fast, and has been seriously bit by the bug. I know a lot of the crowd down at Hazleton and up at Sky Haven, the guys and gals that jump year-round in any weather they can - it's obviously a potent rush. I know I will try 'diving someday, but I still think my next step up adrenaline-wise will be aerobatics. I was powerfully drawn to the muscular little Pitts stunt biplane over at Sussex on Sunday, and I can get dual instruction there or a few other places.
We got samples of Lee's chocolate, and took one back for Heather M. - I got to meet Lee in Albany, but I didn't get to sample her craft until now. And we posed for the must-have blog pics, with Karl and Krisanne. I look forward to seeing them all again, at the West Coast Reception, if not sooner.
Especially Karl, since he's one of my six regular readers. Hi Karl! :^)
A fine start to the new year, but sadly it was time to pack up and leave Vancouver. Since I had an early-morning flight from SeaTac on the 2nd, Gail and I booked an airport hotel for the night and traveled to Seattle to meet some of the Seattle area Orkut crowd; Karl, Eric, Krisanne, and Francesca. (Clockwise from my left in the picture.) My big opportunity to meet everyone and put voices with faces - too bad I couldn't afford them the same chance, with my laryngitis! Hot coffee and beer made it possible for me to converse, though.I had been long looking forward to this meetup; I've had a lot of fun online with the Seattleites. (Most of whom come from somewhere else, not unusual in that sprawling place). We met them at a coffee shop and lit out to find a restaurant in Krisanne's neighborhood. After rejecting a few closed and crowded places, we found a good grille in which to sit, feast and chat. I passed around Gail's engagement ring and the wedding ring, to show how they fit together. Everyone was as friendly and fun as they are online, and we managed to communicate without the use of emoticons.
Back at Krisanne's nice walkup apartment, we continued the chat and engaged in Orkut gossip (which I'm forever behind on.) Nowhere near the tech level of the Albany meetup, but with the essential geekiness intact; Krisanne brought out her laptop so that we could laugh at some video clips online. (A revealing social experiment; we watched a clip which substituted the SuperFriends from the old animated series for the guys in the Budweiser "Whassup" advert. The Americans: all ringing with laughter. Canada, represented by Gail: no reaction. As with beer, apparently it takes stronger stuff to amuse the wry Canuck.)
We were all hanging on Krisanne's skydiving stories, too. She showed us a video of her last jump; she's learning fast, and has been seriously bit by the bug. I know a lot of the crowd down at Hazleton and up at Sky Haven, the guys and gals that jump year-round in any weather they can - it's obviously a potent rush. I know I will try 'diving someday, but I still think my next step up adrenaline-wise will be aerobatics. I was powerfully drawn to the muscular little Pitts stunt biplane over at Sussex on Sunday, and I can get dual instruction there or a few other places.
We got samples of Lee's chocolate, and took one back for Heather M. - I got to meet Lee in Albany, but I didn't get to sample her craft until now. And we posed for the must-have blog pics, with Karl and Krisanne. I look forward to seeing them all again, at the West Coast Reception, if not sooner.
Especially Karl, since he's one of my six regular readers. Hi Karl! :^)
Monday, January 17, 2005
Vancouver Diary, Pt. VI
December 31st - First Night Vancouver
On the last day of 2004, Gail and I dismantled and crammed a lot of her furniture into the borrowed minivan (again, thanks Kevin!) and took it with us out to the Sunshine Coast, where her office is. A glass Ikea table and some metal chairs were headed for the office, and Gail's crimson fainting couch was going to her co-worker Melanie. Amazingly, we packed everything into the minivan and still had room for twelve boxes of envelopes that we picked up from the printer. (Although the only way to achieve this required me to ride tandem-style behind Gail!)
I got to experience the ferry trip that Gail has made once a week for a long time, a 40-minute ride out to the Sunshine Coast. It was raining and foggy (I did mention that this was the Pacific Northwest, right?) but I enjoyed the ride from our seats on the passenger deck. As we approached the coast, Gail pointed out the steeply sloping mountainside road that was our destination.
We dropped the boxes and furniture at her office, Equity Research Associates, which occupies half of her boss Kevin's big house on a steeply pitched hillside. Then the couch got dropped off at Melanie's house, and we said a quick hello to her husband, as she was out. We drove out to have lunch with Gail's retired employer, Ross and his wife Lee and a friend of theirs. We had some good turkey soup (which soothed my raw throat, but induced a bit of deja-vu; lots of turkey soup over the holidays!) and had a genteel good time. Gail and Ross told me some of their work stories, and we sat down to watch some video that Gail had brought of a truly grand retirement party, which she had organized. Ross and Lee were moved by seeing some of the footage again; it was apparent that the event was a big undertaking, and a big success.
Within a few hours, we were down the road to have dinner with Melanie and her husband, who is a chiropractor with an office attached to their home. Melanie gave us some nice wedding gifts and wishes, but also expressed her chagrin at seeing Gail leaving! Melanie will have a lot of new duties at work in her absence, but Gail will still be working as a consultant and will be traveling back and forth, so she won't really be thrown on her own.
I rested for a while before we headed out for New Year's Eve; we had bought passes for First Night Vancouver, the official downtown celebration. The human traffic was thick by the time we arrived, so we couldn't get into all of the shows; but we saw some good street performers, and enjoyed some short films in the CBC tent, and explored the area on foot and in photos. We took up a good position near the bandstand, where a great cover band was playing, tried a few self-portraits as the minutes counted down, and rang in 2005 with the happy, teeming multitude. Just after midnight, fireworks soared from the Canada Post building across the way, and we started to head back.
Walking through town, and through an increasingly drunken crowd, we stopped in for a snack (churros!) and watched as a poor drunken girl was herded in by her friends with a badly bleeding nose. While they hustled her into the washroom, they plopped another companion in a chair - which a minute later she slowly toppled out of. We finished our snacks and carefully picked our way back to the apartment. Gail and I have both done our share of drunken crawls; I enjoyed our New Years' celebration just as it was, mostly sober - no broken noses, lost clothing or police citations. I even remember it...
On the last day of 2004, Gail and I dismantled and crammed a lot of her furniture into the borrowed minivan (again, thanks Kevin!) and took it with us out to the Sunshine Coast, where her office is. A glass Ikea table and some metal chairs were headed for the office, and Gail's crimson fainting couch was going to her co-worker Melanie. Amazingly, we packed everything into the minivan and still had room for twelve boxes of envelopes that we picked up from the printer. (Although the only way to achieve this required me to ride tandem-style behind Gail!)
I got to experience the ferry trip that Gail has made once a week for a long time, a 40-minute ride out to the Sunshine Coast. It was raining and foggy (I did mention that this was the Pacific Northwest, right?) but I enjoyed the ride from our seats on the passenger deck. As we approached the coast, Gail pointed out the steeply sloping mountainside road that was our destination.
We dropped the boxes and furniture at her office, Equity Research Associates, which occupies half of her boss Kevin's big house on a steeply pitched hillside. Then the couch got dropped off at Melanie's house, and we said a quick hello to her husband, as she was out. We drove out to have lunch with Gail's retired employer, Ross and his wife Lee and a friend of theirs. We had some good turkey soup (which soothed my raw throat, but induced a bit of deja-vu; lots of turkey soup over the holidays!) and had a genteel good time. Gail and Ross told me some of their work stories, and we sat down to watch some video that Gail had brought of a truly grand retirement party, which she had organized. Ross and Lee were moved by seeing some of the footage again; it was apparent that the event was a big undertaking, and a big success.
Within a few hours, we were down the road to have dinner with Melanie and her husband, who is a chiropractor with an office attached to their home. Melanie gave us some nice wedding gifts and wishes, but also expressed her chagrin at seeing Gail leaving! Melanie will have a lot of new duties at work in her absence, but Gail will still be working as a consultant and will be traveling back and forth, so she won't really be thrown on her own.
I rested for a while before we headed out for New Year's Eve; we had bought passes for First Night Vancouver, the official downtown celebration. The human traffic was thick by the time we arrived, so we couldn't get into all of the shows; but we saw some good street performers, and enjoyed some short films in the CBC tent, and explored the area on foot and in photos. We took up a good position near the bandstand, where a great cover band was playing, tried a few self-portraits as the minutes counted down, and rang in 2005 with the happy, teeming multitude. Just after midnight, fireworks soared from the Canada Post building across the way, and we started to head back.Walking through town, and through an increasingly drunken crowd, we stopped in for a snack (churros!) and watched as a poor drunken girl was herded in by her friends with a badly bleeding nose. While they hustled her into the washroom, they plopped another companion in a chair - which a minute later she slowly toppled out of. We finished our snacks and carefully picked our way back to the apartment. Gail and I have both done our share of drunken crawls; I enjoyed our New Years' celebration just as it was, mostly sober - no broken noses, lost clothing or police citations. I even remember it...
Vancouver Diary, Pt. V
December 29th - The Aberthau House
Gail and I have chosen two nice old houses in which to have our wedding and reception(s); the Tripp House in Scranton, and the Aberthau House in Vancouver. Gail describes them in detail here. Wednesday the 29th we went to visit the Aberthau House, being used as a community centre; when we went in there was some kind of a class or playgroup of little kids running around. The house is beautiful, an old Tudor mansion with rich, dark wood panelling and beautiful parquet floors. It will be a great venue for the West Coast reception.
After that we went to the Museum of Anthropology at the University of British Columbia. We had to do a rather abbreviated visit, as it was late in the day. Gail was intent on taking some photos, so we split up and I wandered off to look at whatever intrigued me. It's a beautiful museum, filled with art and cultural objects from around the world, and especially from the First Nations of British Columbia. One tall, striking gallery is filled with huge, ancient wooden totems and some latter-day art and carvings, and a central rotunda showcases a massive modern wood carving, "The Raven and the First Men" by sculptor Bill Reid. We stayed right up until the moment they were locking the doors.
Dinner was at another Japanese restaurant, Octopus' Garden. More new people to meet: Gail's cousin Tosca and husband Mike, and her friends Vicky and Mark. The company was great, but I was definitely the sushi tyro of the group; again, I didn't recognize half of what I was eating, but enjoyed nearly everything that came out. The sushi chef here was definitely skilled in the art of presentation, as well as taste - some of the rolls were nothing less than sculpture, dragons and other creatures. Most memorable was "Mr. Bean", which came out in the form of a comic green caterpillar (skinned with ultra-thin slices of avocado) perched on a glowing seashell.
I had a good day, but by this time I was beginning to suffer from what turned out to be a pretty serious case of bronchitis. I medicated with over-the-counter stuff and coped the best I could; I was determined to make to most of my short time in Vancouver (which I did) and leave the suffering for when I got home (which I did!)
Gail and I have chosen two nice old houses in which to have our wedding and reception(s); the Tripp House in Scranton, and the Aberthau House in Vancouver. Gail describes them in detail here. Wednesday the 29th we went to visit the Aberthau House, being used as a community centre; when we went in there was some kind of a class or playgroup of little kids running around. The house is beautiful, an old Tudor mansion with rich, dark wood panelling and beautiful parquet floors. It will be a great venue for the West Coast reception.
After that we went to the Museum of Anthropology at the University of British Columbia. We had to do a rather abbreviated visit, as it was late in the day. Gail was intent on taking some photos, so we split up and I wandered off to look at whatever intrigued me. It's a beautiful museum, filled with art and cultural objects from around the world, and especially from the First Nations of British Columbia. One tall, striking gallery is filled with huge, ancient wooden totems and some latter-day art and carvings, and a central rotunda showcases a massive modern wood carving, "The Raven and the First Men" by sculptor Bill Reid. We stayed right up until the moment they were locking the doors.Dinner was at another Japanese restaurant, Octopus' Garden. More new people to meet: Gail's cousin Tosca and husband Mike, and her friends Vicky and Mark. The company was great, but I was definitely the sushi tyro of the group; again, I didn't recognize half of what I was eating, but enjoyed nearly everything that came out. The sushi chef here was definitely skilled in the art of presentation, as well as taste - some of the rolls were nothing less than sculpture, dragons and other creatures. Most memorable was "Mr. Bean", which came out in the form of a comic green caterpillar (skinned with ultra-thin slices of avocado) perched on a glowing seashell.I had a good day, but by this time I was beginning to suffer from what turned out to be a pretty serious case of bronchitis. I medicated with over-the-counter stuff and coped the best I could; I was determined to make to most of my short time in Vancouver (which I did) and leave the suffering for when I got home (which I did!)
Sunday, January 16, 2005
I Fly the Frosty Skies
Finally got back in the skies today after a month-long hiatus, which is about the longest I've played groundhog in the last nine years. It's a Bad Thing for airplanes to sit around without flying; regular use prevents corrosion on all those expensive, important engine parts. It's a bad thing for pilots, too; there is something about the skills and disciplines of flying that deteriorates without use, from student pilots to airline captains. Pilot certificates never expire; but it's illegal for a pilot to take passengers aloft if they are not current, with strict definitions for recent experience.Flying small airplanes in winter conditions requires some extra care, too. Just getting the things out of a frozen hangar onto an icy taxiway is a chore; and the lightweight batteries and starters often require a preheat to even start the engine. In the air, piston engines are susceptible to carburetor ice; and ice can build up on the airframe, which has no built-in deicing equipment like jet airliners.
But today the elements were overcome easily enough; I chipped away at the ice in front of the hangar and pulled my plane out. 02P laughed off the -10C weather like any good Pennsylvania native, and started smartly on the first crank.
There was a fly-out to Lancaster scheduled by my local airport pilots' association, but I had gotten there too late to make the appointed meeting time. I was just going to fly locally, but two of the guys turned up and said they were heading for Sussex, NJ, so I decided to tag along. Sussex is about a 45-minute flight; it's a friendly, ramshackle little airport that houses a fair gaggle of light planes and an aerobatic flight school. (And has a cafe nearby, naturally!) It was the home of Leo Loudenslager, 7-time U.S. and one-time World aerobatic champion. I used to go to the small Sussex airshow every summer to see the best of the aerobatic world show off in Leo's backyard; but none could ever match the smooth, polished perfection of Leo's routines. When he did a point roll, you could measure the angles with a t-square; and I remember watching him land his tiny 1100-pound aerobatic plane in a blustery crosswind that had almost blown a B-25 bomber off the runway.
On the way back, I was just five minutes from my home when I hit a lowering wall of clouds; I ducked under and found just enough room underneath to press on. Light snow was falling, but the runway was just ahead and I slipped in with no trouble. Felt good to knock the rust off.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Vancouver Diary, Pt. IV
December 28th - The Aquarium and Stanley Park
Tuesday was rainy again, but we had a good activity planned - a trip with Melissa, Michael and Madeleine (I'm feeling lazy typing 3 Ms) to the Vancouver Aquarium in Stanley Park. We again bundled all the little ones up and piled into the minivan. (Gail's boss Kevin had loaned us his vehicle for the week - which was a godsend, since Gail's old Volvo wagon had succumbed to electrical problems the week before. We wouldn't have been able to move it to Pennsylvania anyway, so perhaps it chose its time well to trundle off into automotive Valhalla.)
Predictably, Stanley Park was fairly packed with people, this holiday week. We had to park some ways off, and made our way through the rain (I did mention that this was the Pacific Northwest, right?) to the Aquarium. It's a nice one, but filled to capacity this day; at first it was hard to see the shows due to the crowd. I took turns parking Melissa and Michael on my shoulders for a look at the big seals and sea otters, then we made our way inside. It was a little more hair-raising to keep track of them here than at Science World, since the aquarium layout rambles and isn't partitioned for small children. With three Ems, and two of Gail and I, we had a brisk job of shepherding - especially when they all became fascinated by different fish at once! But there were some nice exhibits for the smaller kids, including a little animal hospital where they could don white smocks and minister to stuffed seal pups.
Between the excitement and the crowds, the kids got very wound up, and we struggled through to the food court for a snack before leaving. Our next stop was to have been the Christmas Train, and the kidlets were excited at the prospect; but there was a sign at the ticket kiosk that said they were sold out for the day. So we made do by touring the Christmas light displays, and by decorating cookies at a tent set up as a benefit for local emergency services. Photos in Gail's album, and a few in mine.
On the way back, we stopped in at a Gelato place (208 flavors - apparently they picked up a few new ones, since Gail recalled it had been 198 last time!) and had some ice cream. The shop features some very exotic flavors and encourages tasting; and the tiny cones that are perfect for wee kids are free. So we all got a dose of sugar, and agreeably sticky. On the long trip back home, the Ems colored for a while and reluctantly began to fall asleep.
Gail and I made our way back to the city and enjoyed a wonderful Japanese dinner - perhaps she will remind me of the name, I really enjoyed it. I tried a lot of things I didn't recognize, and didn't leave a scrap. Gail ordered a new kind of sake advertised on a little card, very light - almost like a sparkling wine, I had a taste. But we boggled a bit when we got the bill; even though the bottle was quite small, one portion only, the sake was 19 dollars - half again as much as the rest of the meal, and we had ordered a lot! It's a good thing we didn't decide to go on a bender...
Next chapter: The Aberthau House, Anthro Geeking and Mr. Bean!
Tuesday was rainy again, but we had a good activity planned - a trip with Melissa, Michael and Madeleine (I'm feeling lazy typing 3 Ms) to the Vancouver Aquarium in Stanley Park. We again bundled all the little ones up and piled into the minivan. (Gail's boss Kevin had loaned us his vehicle for the week - which was a godsend, since Gail's old Volvo wagon had succumbed to electrical problems the week before. We wouldn't have been able to move it to Pennsylvania anyway, so perhaps it chose its time well to trundle off into automotive Valhalla.)
Predictably, Stanley Park was fairly packed with people, this holiday week. We had to park some ways off, and made our way through the rain (I did mention that this was the Pacific Northwest, right?) to the Aquarium. It's a nice one, but filled to capacity this day; at first it was hard to see the shows due to the crowd. I took turns parking Melissa and Michael on my shoulders for a look at the big seals and sea otters, then we made our way inside. It was a little more hair-raising to keep track of them here than at Science World, since the aquarium layout rambles and isn't partitioned for small children. With three Ems, and two of Gail and I, we had a brisk job of shepherding - especially when they all became fascinated by different fish at once! But there were some nice exhibits for the smaller kids, including a little animal hospital where they could don white smocks and minister to stuffed seal pups.Between the excitement and the crowds, the kids got very wound up, and we struggled through to the food court for a snack before leaving. Our next stop was to have been the Christmas Train, and the kidlets were excited at the prospect; but there was a sign at the ticket kiosk that said they were sold out for the day. So we made do by touring the Christmas light displays, and by decorating cookies at a tent set up as a benefit for local emergency services. Photos in Gail's album, and a few in mine.On the way back, we stopped in at a Gelato place (208 flavors - apparently they picked up a few new ones, since Gail recalled it had been 198 last time!) and had some ice cream. The shop features some very exotic flavors and encourages tasting; and the tiny cones that are perfect for wee kids are free. So we all got a dose of sugar, and agreeably sticky. On the long trip back home, the Ems colored for a while and reluctantly began to fall asleep.
Gail and I made our way back to the city and enjoyed a wonderful Japanese dinner - perhaps she will remind me of the name, I really enjoyed it. I tried a lot of things I didn't recognize, and didn't leave a scrap. Gail ordered a new kind of sake advertised on a little card, very light - almost like a sparkling wine, I had a taste. But we boggled a bit when we got the bill; even though the bottle was quite small, one portion only, the sake was 19 dollars - half again as much as the rest of the meal, and we had ordered a lot! It's a good thing we didn't decide to go on a bender...
Next chapter: The Aberthau House, Anthro Geeking and Mr. Bean!
Vancouver Diary, Pt. III
December 27th - We sleep in.
Monday we relaxed a bit in the morning - nearly into the afternoon, as I recall; sinfully late, for me, as I rarely am in bed past 8:00 on the East Coast! But we had stayed up late, as we did most nights while I was there. It's not hard for me to go nocturnal for a while, as Gail usually does; I am a morning person of necessity and habit, more than inclination. The weather was rainy anyway, so Gail and I drove around and ran some errands, and she showed me her environs, which I had long looked forward to. I only ever had a tourist's quick look at Vancouver, but Gail is a longtime resident, and one who loves her city. One of her main goals was to take me to plenty of restaurants, to show me the varied cuisines of the city; most of which are not to be found in provincial Scranton. (I can only escape to Manhattan for such fare, but NYC is generally expensive!) Later in the day we left the city and took a long drive north of Vancouver towards Whistler, and the weather finally broke a little so that I got some nice photographs of a beautiful Pacific sunset.
That evening, I finally got to meet some of Gail's friends - first Socar, who just took up residence in a modern apartment not far from Gail. I have been getting to know Socar through Orkut, where I met Gail, and I won't attempt to summarize her here - other than to say that she is an original and creative artist, and a wickedly entertaining writer. Her journal is one of my favorite reads. Gail and I had brought Greek take-out for us all (Socar's younger sister was visiting) and afterwards Gail and Socar tried to coax Stella, Socar's Giant Gambian Pouched Rat into a photo session. Stella, for her part, tried to coax Gail and Socar into finding other amusement; but dogged perseverance yielded a few photos.
Next we all went to the elevator to visit Gail's close friend Eliza, who will be Maid of Honor at our wedding. Eliza is Taiwanese, and lives in an ultra-modern (certainly to me!) apartment in the same building. (They helped Socar get into the building when her last flat was pulled out from under her.) Eliza dotes on her two elegant cats, Ebi and Tako, and is also apparently Gail's connection to the world of things Girly. Eliza will be instrumental in helping us plan the wedding; and she has a great disposition and is quite funny. Poor Eliza got her car smashed while trying to help Gail get to the airport to retrieve me on Friday; I don't think she's blogged it yet, but Gail can tell the story best. Luckily, it's more funny than tragic - no one was hurt.
Next: The 3 Ms (and half of Vancouver) visit Stanley Park!
Monday we relaxed a bit in the morning - nearly into the afternoon, as I recall; sinfully late, for me, as I rarely am in bed past 8:00 on the East Coast! But we had stayed up late, as we did most nights while I was there. It's not hard for me to go nocturnal for a while, as Gail usually does; I am a morning person of necessity and habit, more than inclination. The weather was rainy anyway, so Gail and I drove around and ran some errands, and she showed me her environs, which I had long looked forward to. I only ever had a tourist's quick look at Vancouver, but Gail is a longtime resident, and one who loves her city. One of her main goals was to take me to plenty of restaurants, to show me the varied cuisines of the city; most of which are not to be found in provincial Scranton. (I can only escape to Manhattan for such fare, but NYC is generally expensive!) Later in the day we left the city and took a long drive north of Vancouver towards Whistler, and the weather finally broke a little so that I got some nice photographs of a beautiful Pacific sunset.That evening, I finally got to meet some of Gail's friends - first Socar, who just took up residence in a modern apartment not far from Gail. I have been getting to know Socar through Orkut, where I met Gail, and I won't attempt to summarize her here - other than to say that she is an original and creative artist, and a wickedly entertaining writer. Her journal is one of my favorite reads. Gail and I had brought Greek take-out for us all (Socar's younger sister was visiting) and afterwards Gail and Socar tried to coax Stella, Socar's Giant Gambian Pouched Rat into a photo session. Stella, for her part, tried to coax Gail and Socar into finding other amusement; but dogged perseverance yielded a few photos.
Next we all went to the elevator to visit Gail's close friend Eliza, who will be Maid of Honor at our wedding. Eliza is Taiwanese, and lives in an ultra-modern (certainly to me!) apartment in the same building. (They helped Socar get into the building when her last flat was pulled out from under her.) Eliza dotes on her two elegant cats, Ebi and Tako, and is also apparently Gail's connection to the world of things Girly. Eliza will be instrumental in helping us plan the wedding; and she has a great disposition and is quite funny. Poor Eliza got her car smashed while trying to help Gail get to the airport to retrieve me on Friday; I don't think she's blogged it yet, but Gail can tell the story best. Luckily, it's more funny than tragic - no one was hurt.
Next: The 3 Ms (and half of Vancouver) visit Stanley Park!
Vancouver Diary, Pt. II
December 26th - The Big Ball of Science!
The day after Christmas (Boxing Day, as the sale banners proclaim) Gail and I began the week with a few outings with the "M"s, or at least the elder three. Sunday we took them to Science World, a very nice children's museum not far from Gail's neighbourhood. (The large geodesic dome over the museum prompted Michael, on one of his previous visits, to name it "The Big Ball of Science".) I'm accustomed to trips with adolescents and teens, so it was a nice change to spend time with younger children again - holding hands, picking up... chasing after! They were really no trouble, just active, happy kids. "Attie Gail" had taken them here many times before, but it was obvious that this was a favorite outing; plenty of hands-on fun, and a little interactive science show to see while sipping milkshakes. I was busy enjoying myself, but I managed to snap a few pictures.
In the evening we finally had some time to relax together, and of course geek out a bit and upload some photos. Thanks to the busy day, sleep came easily, when we finally slept.
The day after Christmas (Boxing Day, as the sale banners proclaim) Gail and I began the week with a few outings with the "M"s, or at least the elder three. Sunday we took them to Science World, a very nice children's museum not far from Gail's neighbourhood. (The large geodesic dome over the museum prompted Michael, on one of his previous visits, to name it "The Big Ball of Science".) I'm accustomed to trips with adolescents and teens, so it was a nice change to spend time with younger children again - holding hands, picking up... chasing after! They were really no trouble, just active, happy kids. "Attie Gail" had taken them here many times before, but it was obvious that this was a favorite outing; plenty of hands-on fun, and a little interactive science show to see while sipping milkshakes. I was busy enjoying myself, but I managed to snap a few pictures.In the evening we finally had some time to relax together, and of course geek out a bit and upload some photos. Thanks to the busy day, sleep came easily, when we finally slept.
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