Slipping just below the clouds we headed towards a patch of blue sky just barely visible in the distance.
“The light is beautiful”, I said in awe. “Like beams of transparent Amber piercing the clouds”.
“We are trying to duck beneath the cloud banks before that opening to the sky closes in front of us, this is called “scud running”, my husband replied. “We are almost there,”
“The idea is to maintain visual contact with the ground while avoiding physical contact with it?, I joked .
“Exactly”, He said in a serious tone.
This was the first time in our air travels I had seen him do this. In aviation, scud running is a practice where pilots lower their altitude to avoid clouds and stay clear of weather. It is considered dangerous and has lead to many cases of pilots flying into the side of a mountain or towers. It wasn’t something we had done before but when weather moved in on us we had to take the risk to avoid thunderstorms embedded in the clouds.
The sleek little 4 place experimental air craft was bouncing around in the turbulence. I bounded with it blissfully unaware that “scud running” was a last resort maneuver in worsening weather conditions. It had taken him 8 1/2 years to build this sturdy speedy little airplane. When he finally got it done he flight tested it himself. That was a year ago and since then we had taken lots of flights together.
I always felt so safe flying with him. Meticulous in his pre-flight checks, determined to explain to me every part of “How to Fly” . He gave me lessons on landing the plane itn an emergency. I hoped that never was necessary. Taught me basic radio communication and map reading.
‘So, If I have a heart attack while we are in the air you will be able to get back on the ground in one piece’. He would remind me, “Try not to scratch the plane! ”
Today, I am boarding a larger airplane and the commercial pilot is a stranger. I won’t be able to help him navigate. I won’t see the pilot carefully check all the gages or listen to him communicate with air traffic controllers. It won’t be as much fun, kind of like riding in a bus instead of a go kart. But, when I look out the window at the clouds I will remember those other trips and the adventures they were a part of.
Now I pack differently too. Instead of a small suitcase with barely the essentials and carefully weighed , I take a bigger one. I travel with compression hose, neck pillow, mask, blanket, etc. Old ladies have to haul almost as much stuff as you would traveling with an infant! But there are advantages. I get assistance to the gate, help with my luggage, pre boarding and fall asleep as soon as we are in the air.
This trip to the Azores (Terceira) will be challenging. Total travel time to get there, including layovers is 31 hours. I know that’s crazy.....but that’s what takes and believe me the destination is worth it.
So as I settle back in my seat, I will smile as my heart remembers the past and looks forward to the future.....
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