Perfect Morning Flight

Last Saturday I flew for 1:15 in the smooth, cool, clear air, low and slow over the late-summer greens and browns of Southwestern Pennsylvania. Fog covered the rivers like tubes of cotton, but everywhere else the air was Rocky Mountain clear, dry, and cool.

It helps to fly before 9 AM -- usually the sky is empty, the air is smooth, and the birds and insects haven't climbed up to my cruising altitude of 500' above the trees. I flew over familiar ground, and planned on flying over the ridge when I checked the time and realized I had a 0900 appointment with my mechanic back at KWAY. So I  reduced power, dropped the nose, and pointed west.

I had to climb a bit to clear the water tower south of the field, entered base then final, and decided a fly-by would be more fun than landing. I waved to John, enjoyed the rare sensation of speed, and entered a zooming left turn to downwind.

The landing was smooth as warm butter on the hard, dry grass, and I wished I could go around anothe time, but maintenance was waiting and so a short taxi ended the day's fun.