Mountain Peaks

Saturday morning the weather was good. On this happy discovery, Carolina and I knew at once that we would be going somewhere. Since our last sortie had been to the south, this time I put a little plan together that would take us by two of Northern California's tallest mountains and then have us dining at the coast. 

This route would offer close views of Mt. Lassen and Mt. Shasta.  I was surprised to learn that mountains Lassen and Shasta represent the southern end of the Cascade mountain range.  I just assumed that they were a continuation of the adjacent Sierras.  I also learned that Shasta is the second highest mountain in all the Cascades, just behind Mt. Rainier in Washington state.  Also, here's a fun fact: Shasta is the fifth highest mountain in California.   How about that?  Got to love Wikipedia. How did we ever live without it?

Mt. Lassen and Mt Shasta are both volcanic in origin with Lassen having most recently erupted (1914 to 1921).  Mt. Lassen's elevation is a paltry 10,457 feet which doesn't even make the top 100 in California, but it would be a towering monster were it located on the east coast where the tallest of the tall is only 6700 feet.  Never-the-less, I suspect that Lassen may feel inadequate sitting so close to the much taller Mount Shasta.  Lassen is still pretty big and can easily be seen from a hundred miles or more. 

Shasta rises to 14,179 feet and just dominates the north end of the Sacramento valley.  To fly past the peak of Mt Shasta does present a regulatory issue regarding the use of oxygen.  The FAA requires a pilot operating under part 91 of the federal code of regulations to be on oxygen if above 12,500' for more than 30 minutes, or while above 13,999' for any length of time.  Given this regulatory constraint, I was careful to time my ascent (and max altitude) to Shasta's peak to comply with the regulation. 

We departed runway 25 into the clear blue at about 10:30am.  Then we made a right crosswind departure from the Grass Valley pattern and right away I could see our target on the horizon, still some 80 nautical miles distant.

Instead of heading straight for the mountain, I decided to overfly the town and airport at Chester which sits on the western shore of Lake Almanor, about 17 miles southeast of Mt. Lassen. Ultimately we decided not to land there opting instead to save the altitude and head directly for Lassen. 

There was a stiff wind blowing from the northwest at 35kts which uncoincidentally was the very same direction that I wanted to go.  I have come to learn the contrarian nature of the winds.  It seems that while in the air, I alone command their direction.  That is to say, that there will always be a headwind, irrespective of my direction of travel.

I approached from the northeast, making a semi-circle around the peak before turning for Mt Shasta.

From Lassen to Shasta is about 64 nautical miles.  From this distance, it is hard to appreciate the massive scale of this mountain.  As we approached the mountain I was careful to stay to the north side, wanting to avoid any downwind turbulence that might have been generated by the wind spilling over and around the mountain.

Approaching Shasta's peak at about 14000' I followed a path similar to the one that I flew at Lassen. The air was smooth on the north and west sides so I allowed myself to get in even closer.  The wide angle lens makes it look like we were further away than we were.

I turned back around for one last look at the western slope.

From Shasta, we turned south and west toward the coast.  The coastline was clearly visible from 90 miles at our altitude and we could also see that there were a lot of clouds or fog there. We continued on anyway, heading for Murray Field at Eureka.  By the time we arrived there was just a broken layer at 1000', but no fog.  The clouds made getting around the pattern interesting, but they were not enough to prevent us from landing.  By the time we taxied to the FBO and shut down, the clouds had mostly dissipated.

Carol plotted a course for the FBO.

We had intended to eat lunch in Eureka and were hoping to get a courtesy car for the trip into town. The amiable gentleman working the FBO was pleasant enough, but explained that they did not offer a courtesy car.  He suggested that we try Shelter Cove for lunch since from there we could walk to a restaurant.  I had attempted going to Shelter Cove once before and was thwarted by fog, but it didn't seem like fog would be a problem on this day, so we quickly refueled and we were on our way.

This is the view as we are leaving Eureka to the south.  At first, we tried following the coast down to Shelter Cove.  However, we soon discovered that down low the coastline offers beautiful views and a bumpy ride.  Alas, I decided to sacrifice some of the spectacular view for a modicum of comfort, and up we went.

By air, Shelter Cove is just a quick hop from Eureka, but by automobile, it is a long way from any kind of civilization.  Left downwind at Shelter Cove.

  On the ground, here is the view of the airport looking north.

We spent a bit of time just walking around, ostensibly looking for a restaurant, but actually just enjoying the ocean view.

So the restaurant turned out to be more of a grocery store and deli, but at this point, we didn't have a lot of options.  In the end, it all turned out OK and we ended up eating out on their patio.

Not really sure what this gesture means.  It looks like I was trying to levitate my soda.

Having satisfied the $100 hamburger requirement, we made our way back to the airport.  A Beech Bonanza had joined us in the transient parking.  It turns out that they were from Portland and were heading down to the Santa Cruz area for some surfing.

The ride home was an uneventful 1 hour hop.  It still amazes me that we can transport ourselves to the far reaches with so little effort.  On this excursion, we were afforded stunning views of snow capped mountain peaks from a vantage that only a very few experience first hand.  Then just a short time later, we strolled an isolated and picturesque beachside community.  We ate a leisurely lunch outside in the ocean breezes while overlooking the expansive Pacific ocean.  Returning to Grass Valley by 3:30pm, only 5 hours had elapsed.   Amazing!

750nm day trip

Our plan was to depart at 9:00am. Sharp. No kidding, 9:00am. Really, that's when we're leaving.  Needless to say, that didn't happen. Neither did 9:30am. If we can send a man to the moon... How come we can't leave on time? OK, that's a bit of a non sequitur, but it's a good thing because if a man's moon trip actually depended on us leaving on time... He won't be going.

Eventually, we did depart, obviously. The wheels left Terra firma at 9:45am.  Why the big rush? Because we were going to get some ice cream -- 313 miles away.  The destination was actually Inyokern airport and on this day it was the location of Axel Alvarez's 9th annual ice cream social. And since we were committing a day to it, why not travel around Southern California a bit?

Our initial route had us on a southeasterly heading.  Cruising about 5500' we had a beautiful view of the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada mountain range that I had intended to follow pretty much all the way to Inyokern.  About 45 minutes into the flight we were treated to this view of the entrance of the Yosemite valley.

The view off to the west was not so inviting.  But why should I care?  We weren't going over there. Or were we?  It was about this time that I was informed of an issue in the passenger cabin.  It seems that one of the passengers needed to use the facilities.  Not a problem in an airliner, but in our two place airplane the nearest facilities were miles away.  26 miles in this particular case.  The Garmin avionics make quick work of spelling out one's diversion options. Reedley airport was about the closest, but I wasn't sure if we could get down through the cloud layer once we got there.  It turns out that Reedley was not overcast, just a broken layer and some mist to get through.  Once we got close we could see the airport without difficulty from a few miles out. 

Reedley was typical of the small airports that dot the Sacramento valley.  Surrounded by farmland on this lazy Saturday morning, Reedley was quiet and very nearly deserted. By comparison, Fresno, just a few miles to the northwest, is a bustling metropolis.  Fortunately, there were facilities available. They were clean, and we were grateful.  I spent a bit of time looking at my charts and just soaking in the quietness.  I was hoping that by delaying our departure, the cloud layer above would dissipate.   Here is a view to the southwest over the valley. Reedley is down there somewhere.

After some time it was apparent that the broken cloud layer wasn't going to clear up any time soon, so we decided to depart south towards Porterville staying just below the cloud layer.  My plan was to get us closer to the ice cream and look for clearing weather.  Fifteen minutes later we're at Porterville and the cloud layer is not looking any better.   Time to turn left and head in an easterly direction towards Inyokern.  As a VFR pilot, I am not allowed to fly through the clouds. In this situation, I must find a hole in the cloud layer to fly through.  Since the sky was not completely overcast and it wasn't too difficult to find such a hole. 

Isabella Lake, Kern Valley CA

Presently, the clouds below give way to granite tipped mountains, our last barrier to ice cream.  The RV-7A easily out climbs the rising slopes and we find ourselves crossing the Sierras at 9500 feet. Passing just north of Kern Valley airport we begin a slow descent that takes us south of Walker Pass at 5200' and then all the way down to the desert floor at Inyokern.

When we arrived the ice cream social was in full swing.  There were about 20 RV aircraft already there and more arrived after us.  We took the last parking space in the front row.  The warm desert air was absolutely balmy, a welcome change from the cool dampness we left behind in Grass Valley.  Our location at the end of the line granted the opportunity to see some really nice aircraft as we strolled the tarmac toward the gathered crowd.  

At the terminal, several flavors of ice cream and all the fixings for cones and sundaes wait for us at the end of a short line.  I had a bowl of vanilla and then I added some sprinkles on top just because I'm a wild man. Carol opted for a cupcake.

We milled about for a bit just watching the people happily chatting in various groups of three or four.  In every direction, pilot's speak is overheard.  The pilot's spoken language is two thirds English and one third acronym. On the ground, it is also partly visual.  It is not hard at all to spot the right hand-as-airplane gestures that describe their airplane's curving path through the sky.  And should a second plane enter the story, the left hand is ready and willing to fly as well.  This is what pilots do when they are on the ground.

And so, once again, I failed to take enough photos to tell any kind of reasonable story.  Here is the parking area with my plane at the far end, not visible, and too small to be seen in this shot anyway.

After about an hour or so of mingling, we thought it best to seek out our host, Alex, to thank him and his wife Alisha, for their hospitality and all the effort that goes into organizing something like this.  It was still early in the afternoon, but there was still a lot of ground to cover.  So we quickly refueled and we were on our way.

Our next destination was Vasquez rocks which Carol and I had visited by automobile in 2014.  We thought it would be fun to see by air and it was.  Unfortunately, I can't show you what it looked like because our camera was just out of reach in the baggage compartment.  Alternately, both of us tried to reach the camera as I circled over the rocks all to no avail.  It was awesome though, really it was.

The flight from Inyokern and Vasquez rocks was about 200 miles and allowed us to overfly Mojave airport, the birthplace of Spaceship 1 and 2. Our next stop was Pismo beach where we planned to walk the quiet sands and listen to the sounds of seagulls and the crashing surf.  The reality turned out a bit different. 

We landed at Oceano airport after a brief delay for skydivers.  The Oceano airport is only about a block from the beach.

But first, we needed to get some food.  As we were leaving the airport we happened across a gentleman who suggested several restaurants that were close by.  We selected the Rock & Roll cafe which had been constructed out of two railroad cars.  It had a 50's motif that seemed to fit and the food was very tasty.  

It was only after we had thoroughly enjoyed our lunch and were on our way out, that I saw a mouse run by under the table next to me.  I guess the mice know a good place too.

After our rather late lunch, we walked two blocks south to the ocean.  It turns out that Pismo beach allows vehicle traffic to drive onto the beach.  In addition, there were a variety of off road vehicles taking advantage of sand dunes a little further south.  Our quiet walk on the beach will have to wait for a different venue.

After we had our fill of the ocean (which didn't take too long), we started back for the airport.  At the entrance to the beach, there was assembled a great line of pickup trucks, mostly Chevys, waiting to gain access.  It seems that this beach is also a cruising destination.  It was Saturday night, after all.

Oceano Airport.

With the lengthening afternoon shadows, we turned our attention home still some 250 nautical miles distant.  We blasted straight out of Oceano, flying the runway centerline out over Morro Bay and around the west side of San Luis Obispo Airport's airspace.  Then we turned our little plane northeast for Grass Valley.  To clear the coastal range, we made a comfortable climb to 7500'.  Leaving the mountains behind and still cruising at 7500', I tuned in Nevada County Airport.  It surprised me that still 175nm away I could hear an aircraft happily traversing our home airport's traffic pattern.  The thought occurred to me to announce a 175 mile 45 for left downwind 25, but I just let it remain my little joke.

The sunset as we were just south of Sacramento, but in the fading light, I was able to capture this last photo.  Folsom Lake in the foreground, Sacramento and the mostly flooded valley floor behind it, and finally, the coastal mountains in the far distance.

750 nautical miles flown, ice cream, rocks, lunch, a mouse, the ocean, and many great views of California.  A great day.

Upgrades!

As luck would have it, I completed my phase 1 testing just in time for a record breaking stint of bad weather in Northern California.  So, I have been using much of my weather induced free time for airplane maintenance and some upgrades.  

First, I added a vacuum crankcase ventilator and oil separator.  The pair sound much more sophisticated than they actually are.  The engine's crankcase is normally vented to the outside air stream which serves to prevent pressure from building within the crankcase, but at the same time, it allows some oil vapor in that air to escape the engine.  This has the unfortunate consequence of depositing an oily film on the belly of the aircraft and, obviously, increasing oil consumption.  The oil separator reduces this issue by condensing the oil out of the crankcase gases before they leave the aircraft. The collected oil is then allowed to drain back into the engine.  The vacuum ventilator aids this process by pulling a vacuum on the crankcase vent by virtue of venturi action.  The vacuum ventilator directs the crankcase gases into one of the exhaust pipes rather than just overboard.  I've got a few hours on the system now and it definitely does help keep the aircraft bottom clean.

Another upgrade involved adding an additional GPS radio receiver.  This new GPS radio is connected directly to my transponder, feeding it position and velocity data.  This GPS radio is different from the other 3 GPS receivers in my plane in that it meets the FAA's 2020 requirements for Automatic Dependent Surveillance (B) accuracy.  I am now 100% compliant having already installed a compliant transponder.

For those not aware, the FAA has a grand plan to overhaul the air traffic control system called NextGen.  A major part of this new system is ADS-B which works primarily with GPS rather than radar.  To get this system off the ground, so to speak, the FAA has mandated that all aircraft (with electrical systems or those not otherwise exempted) be equipped with new transponders for relaying the ADS-B data and GPS receivers capable of achieving a high level of precision and accuracy in reporting their aircraft's position. Those not upgrading to ADS-B will not be allowed into certain controlled airspace.

And as the rain continued, I decided to upgrade my audio panel as well. I removed my practically new Garmin GMA-240 and replaced it with the clearly superior GMA-245.  What did I get for the extra five?  The new panel has Bluetooth so it can pair with my cell phone or with my Garmin VIRB camera.  In addition, it also has several new audio modes including splitting the COMS between pilot and copilot.  It also sports 3D audio which I believe means it can place certain audio sources in different places spatially. The justification for the new audio panel is that it is new and therefore I need it.

And so spring is fast approaching and I expect to resume flying with renewed vigor and some new equipment.  Sorry, no pictures this time.

Step 14.7, First passenger

Now that my forty hour long phase 1 survey of the Sacramento valley is complete, I can carry passengers and go just about anywhere.  And, as luck would have it, my wife and aircraft building partner likes to go just about anywhere.  Thus, it is fitting that she should be my very first passenger after putting so much time into this project.  The idea that she would be my copilot and aerial companion was ever present on my mind through the many long hours of construction.  If reality follows the plan, then many high flying adventures await.

The light wing loading and short span of the RV series aircraft are key to the airplane's legendary agility.  That the airplane is so light and nimble is a great quality for the pilot flying for sport, but for the passenger, especially an inexperienced passenger, it can seem unstable.  With this in mind, I was really hoping for some great weather and smooth air for our first trip.

But where to go?  I wanted the trip to be relatively short and avoid the heat of the summertime Sacramento valley.  I selected Half Moon Bay because there are a number of restaurants within walking distance of the airport and the scenery along the route is quite impressive.

Ascending from Nevada County airport the Sierra foothills quickly give way to the expansive Sacramento valley.  Our south-westerly course then enters the bay area between Vallejo and Concord, passing over the Carquinez strait and finally across the San Pablo Bay.  The route continues past Tiburon and Angel Island and then out over the Golden Gate bridge.  At this point, a left turn is the only thing keeping you from going to Hawaii (and a lot of fuel).  After turning south, following the beach leads to Half Moon Bay.  It's about 130 miles by air with the route shown.  By car, it's 175 miles. Much better to follow the crow.

The first step was getting Carol into and comfortable in the airplane.  The seat belts needed a bit of adjusting having only held sandbags since their installation.  Once Carol was in I did my preflight and then joined her in the cockpit.

The first leg of our journey lasted only a few minutes it takes to taxi down to the fuel pump. Once fueled, we first taxi back the way we came and then out to the runway run up area.  It can be pretty hot under the bubble canopy, so the run up checks were conducted post haste.  I usually like to take time to explain the purpose of each check to my passengers that are new to general aviation, but Carol has flown with me before, and as I mentioned it was pretty hot.

The wind was blowing about 8Kts to 10Kts which is not too windy, but it is enough to create some turbulence especially on such a warm day.  Just before we took the runway, I mentioned this to Carol so that she would have an idea what to expect as we climb out of Nevada County airport.  

One last check: Mixture rich, flaps 10 degrees, prop high.  "Nevada County traffic, experimental niner Romeo Victor is departing 25 straight out", I announce over the common traffic advisory frequency. Throttle forward to the max and we begin rolling.  Vr at 60Kts, positive climb established. Retract the flaps and we are on our way.

We climb up to 6500 feet and head southwest.  Our route takes us over the top of Sacramento Metro airport's class C airspace.  In the distance, Mt. Diablo looms, and in the foreground, the Sacramento river delta points the way west.  Soon we are passing over the top of Travis Air Force Base and on the horizon, I can just see the Golden Gate Bridge.  The visibility was in excess of 40 miles which is pretty good for this time of year.

The air at the cruising altitude was less bumpy and I am relieved to see Carol relax a bit.  I begin to explain the operation of the autopilot which I had enabled as soon as we were established in the climb.  "Watch this Carol", I said with some excitement. "The plane is going to level itself off at our cruising altitude."  I don't think Carol was quite as impressed with the autopilot as I am, but that did not crush my enthusiasm.  "Now look how I can turn the plane with just this knob."  I was beaming.

"Can't you just push on the stick and do the same thing?", she asks.

"Well, yes", I admit, a bit deflated, "but that is not the point."  And so it goes.  I then move on to explaining the symbology of the traffic scope which allows us to see other aircraft in the area just like an air traffic controller.  Interspersed the avionics seminar I was conducting, I was pointing out the various landmarks and cities below.

About the time we cross over the Carquinez straight I begin letting down so as to avoid entering the San Francisco class B Airspace.  As we get lower we begin to get buffeted by some mild convective turbulence.  After resetting the radios to Nor Cal approach frequency and then to Half Moon bay, I am mostly just watching for traffic and enjoying the view.  There is fog offshore and I just hope it stays there. 

We cross the Golden Gate at 1400 feet which is about twice as high as the bridge's towers are tall. The bridge is so big though, that it gives me the illusion that I am not high enough to clear it until I am very close.  I've flown over the bridge several times in the past and I've had this uncomfortable feeling each time.  I check and double check my altitude. It doesn't help that the air is getting a little bumpier here and we are lurching about.  There are a number of other aircraft in the area and I am dividing my attention between the bridge and watching the traffic on the scope.  

Once we clear the bridge we turn south we follow the beach passing the Cliff House and Golden Gate Park on our left.  Then comes the town of Pacifica, and finally we arrive at Half Moon Bay.  The fog is holding about a mile or so just offshore and there are other aircraft between us and it watching whales, so we have to be extra vigilant.  The wind is blowing 14Kts, but is aligned with runway 30 and is not a factor.

On landing, we taxi to the south end of the airport where there are tie downs for people wanting to walk into the city of Half Moon Bay.  These tie downs are separate from the airport's main transient parking area and, as I said, they are at the extreme south end of the airport.

This is where I have to apologize to the reader for not taking many pictures on this trip.  It seems this post will be mainly about our flight down because I only had two usable pictures from Half Moon Bay itself.

There is a short path next to the tie downs that lead to an area with several restaurants, a couple of bars, and a brewpub that was fairly busy.  I really want to get back to the brewpub, Half Moon Bay Brewing Company, sometime when I'm not flying.  

There is also some kind of shopping area and a nice looking hotel right next to the water. We didn't spend a lot of time exploring Half Moon Bay because I was worried that the fog might come in.  But we did select a place to have lunch called Old Princeton Landing.

The lunch was good and the view out over the bay was nice and there was even a friendly dog sitting on the sidewalk next to the front door.  Initially, we thought the dog belonged to a couple that was eating at the table next to us, but when they left the dog stayed.  Later we found out the dog belonged to someone working inside.

After lunch we made a quick walk down to the pier and then retreated to the airport.  The flight back was uneventful except for a quick stop at Nut Tree in Vacaville.  The oil filler door popped open (again).  It doesn't do any damage to be open other than the aesthetic damage to my view, but after a few minutes of staring at it through the canopy, I gave in and decided to land. The wind at Nut Tree was blowing 18Kts, but once again it was right down the runway and presented no difficulty.

Open Oil filler door

We enjoyed the strong wind at our back on the way home which allowed us to make up some of the time we lost with the unscheduled stop. All things considered, I think it was a very pleasant first flight, but perhaps a bit bumpier than ideal for Carol. We were having way too much fun to remember the in-flight selfie requirement.  So here is one from Carol's second flight taken 12,500 feet above the Sierras in the vicinity of Lake Tahoe.

We arrived back at Nevada County airport about three and a half hours after we left with just over two hours of that being flying time.  My surprise for Carol on our return to the hangar was champagne on ice to celebrate our first flight.  The surprise for me was that the champagne was truly terrible.  The champagne idea had been a last minute thing and I only had a six-pack sized ice chest with me as I made my way to the airport.  The take home lesson for me is to never buy champagne in small bottles.  Oh well, I hope it really is the thought that counts.

An airplane is many things.  The term money pit comes to mind.  But it is also a time machine.  The same trip by auto would have taken 8.5 hours to complete assuming little to no traffic.  We spent less than an afternoon but made a memory that will last a lifetime.

Step 14.6, Phase 1 flight tests

As previously mentioned, getting the FAA approval to fly your experimental aircraft is only the first step in gaining the full utility of your new airplane. Before the aircraft can enjoy all of the privileges that other certified aircraft do, it must first be tested for either 25 or 40 hours. The duration of my phase 1 test program is 40 hours because my engine and propeller combination is not certified. That is to say, there are no examples of this exact combination on an already certified aircraft. 

While in the initial test phase, one is not permitted to carry passengers. There is an exception to this rule involving a passenger who is also a pilot rated in the aircraft, but I did not avail myself of that option.

Forty hours is a long time for sure, but forty hours of flying is still a pretty good time. My phase one area covered a good sized chunk of the Northern Sacramento valley between Lincoln and Corning. There are quite a few small airports dotting the valley and I think I managed to land at each one at least once during my test flying.

The phase one tests are designed to measure the flight envelope of the aircraft. This involves measuring the rate at which the aircraft climbs and descends in vertical feet per minute at various airspeeds and altitudes. Other tests are designed to measure the speed at which the airplane transitions from bird like to brick like flying (stall tests).

One series of tests involve finding the handling characteristics of the aircraft when it is fully loaded. My airplane weighs a portly 1165 pounds without fuel or people. The maximum weight allowed by the design is 1900 pounds. This leaves 735 pounds for people, fuel, and baggage. The RV-7A can carry at most, 42 gallons of fuel which weigh 252 pounds. That leaves 483 pounds for people and baggage. On the day of this test, I weighed 195 pounds, so I needed to add about 300 pounds. Five 60lb bags of sand is just about right. The bags tend to leak a little so I wrapped them with garbage bags before loading them in to the plane. Four bags in the passenger seat and one in the baggage compartment.

My first passenger: 240 lbs of sand

With full fuel tanks, I was just over gross weight on takeoff at 1912 pounds, but I would be well within gross weight by the time I landed. Take off at this weight was fairly normal if a bit lethargic. I could certainly feel the reduction in acceleration and the climb speed was reduced. In the future, I'll call this heavy sluggish performance, Cessna mode. Just kidding Cessna pilots, just kidding.

Flying around this heavy also placed the Center of Gravity at its rearmost limit. This is why I was only able to place 60 pounds in the baggage compartment that would otherwise take 100. I was somewhat apprehensive about stalling the aircraft at the extreme aft CG, but this is critical data that must be collected. With fingers crossed at 6000 feet, I powered back and gently lifted the nose until, quite suddenly, the plane pitched straight forward and I am in a fully developed stall.  The stall recovery was normal: apply power and fly out.

The stall break in an RV aircraft is a bit abrupt as the straight wing stalls along its entire length all at once. There is little to no warning buffet before the break. But if the stall is approached too slowly the plane will begin losing altitude before the break and you enter a mushing descent instead of a stall. Stick full back and losing altitude is a good indication that you're doing something wrong.  And, of course, there is also the matter of the stall warning horn blaring.  

Once all of the flight tests are complete, the data are collected into a document called the Pilot's Operating Handbook, which is like a manual for this particular airplane. The POH is required to be carried onboard the aircraft as a matter of FAA regulation.

Although I was busy collecting data through some of the forty hours, much of the time I just spent cruising around the valley getting the feel of this airplane and smiling. I did a lot of smiling.  Even after forty hours it still hits me every time I fly:  I built this thing and it is truly wonderful.

Because I flew many of the phase 1 hours off after work, I was able to fly during the "golden" hour. A photographic term used to describe the first or last hour of the day when the golden hue of sunlight illuminates the landscape and the interplay of long shadows and back lit features combine to make everything look seductively attractive, romantic, and quite literally, picturesque. 

It is just impossible not to appreciate the beauty of it all.  Two thousand feet above the valley, the sun is just setting over the coastal range propelling streamers of light across green and gold rice patties and furrowed fields in the mosaic laid out beneath. Far below a tractor kicks up a dust trail that glows in the fading light and I wish that I could somehow capture this scene, but I know I can't. Reluctantly, I turn for home and look forward to tomorrow.

In the dim light I descend to my home airport and by the time I push the plane back into the hangar, night has fully enveloped the field.  I am satisfied to have completed the data collecting mission if there was one. Otherwise, I'm just happy to have returned safely having collected another life experience.