Aviation Classics: Life threw me a little bonus today!

The first day in Reno, we had a few errands to run. Not the least of which was to refill the oxygen bottles for the flight back east at the end of the week. Mark and I (mainly me) had drained them coming over. Flying high to avoid turbulence, coupled with my ridiculous sensitivity to altitude meant we stayed almost the entire flight hooked up to supplemental oxygen.

Mark started the morning calling around to see who could help us and ended up selecting Aviation Classics, at Reno Stead Airport, as the service provider. We drove out, both bottles in hand and entered the hangar via one of two entrance doors.

WOW! A hangar filled with aircraft in various states of repair and completion, greeted us. An airplane hospital is how I would best describe it.  About half a dozen men were busy at work.

Mark delivered the empty tanks to the office and asked if they minded us poking around. The staff and mechanics could not have been more encouraging, so we took the opportunity to get to know the inside of aircraft I had previously only seen chocked on a ramp - or never seen at all. Awesome!

Twin engines, exposed. Wings removed. After-burners explained. Despite the sadness at some of the dreams yet to be realized and projects stalled, there was a lot to make me smile.

I watched as a guy gently lowered an ejection seat back into a Russian trainer. And took as much in as I could (most of it over my head, of course) when another mechanic gave me the in's and out's of several of the other Russian fighter jets.

Mark and I were in heaven. I for one, love the smell of hangar. Grease, oil, fuel and vintage upholstery.... Mmmm.

The MiG 21:

Role	Fighter
Manufacturer	Mikoyan-Gurevich OKB
Designer	Artem Mikoyan
First flight	14 February 1956 (Ye-2)
Introduction	1959 (MiG-21F)

Enough fuel to fly just an hour, short wings (think squirrel suit) meaning the aircraft virtually drops like a rock if the engines quit and air force bases well inside Russia's borders make perfect sense when you don't want your pilots to defect! Scary!!!

Mark stepped away for a minute to check on the oxygen refilling process. I took the chance to ask my new mechanic friend if I could sit inside the MiG 21 I was peering into. He said yes! After promising I would not pull the red ejection lever and give myself the headache of a lifetime, I climbed inside.

It was perfectly sized for me. Russian pilots were apparently chosen for skill and physical dimensions. At 5'7", I was about as tall as one would want to be while crammed into this surprisingly comfortable seat and surrounded by important instruments. Of course some of the instruments looked vaguely familiar to me... But others, still labeled in Russian were a complete mystery, so I kept my hands to myself. :-)

Out the front, the view was almost non-existent. The windscreen and canopy was surprisingly close to my head and the shallow angle meant I had a window of 6" high and a couple of feet in depth to look through. Bearing in mind that, upon landing, this aircraft would have the nose pitched up significantly, I think it's safe to say the pilot could not see the runway at all. He better have lined it up nicely before touch-down!

At the end of my bent legs, I tucked my booted feet into the rudder pedals. Yes, tucked. Each small pedal sported leather hooks on the left and right of the pedal. They wrapped over my feet, giving me the ability to push on the rudder pedals as well as pull up on each. Why? To quote the guy eagerly explaining stuff to me: "So that if you get a leg blown off, you can still control left and right with the remaining foot."  Glad I asked!  Even gladder to have not been born into the life of a Russian jet fighter pilot.

All too soon, the oxygen tanks were filled and our excuse to poke around in Aviation Classics business, had come to a screeching halt. Mark and I reluctantly exited the airplane hospital and re-entered real life... Still smiling.

Reno Christmas Flight - Take Two

As you might remember, last year around Christmas time, Mark and I took off and headed for Reno for the holidays. We never made it.

This year, it was different. With a new prop and engine, we planned to skip over the Rockies to Reno between spells of bad weather - or at least give it a go and get a hotel anywhere along the way as needed.

On the ground in Longmont at dawn on December 22nd, it was cold but clear.

Fifteen seconds after take-off, the turbulence kicked in. At first mild, then proceeding to get bit worse as we climbed. We headed south along the Foothills, climbing at times (when lift took us up) at 1000 feet per minute and at other times, losing up to 500 feet a minute. It became abundantly clear we might be going further south than Castle Rock before we had the altitude needed to go west over the mountains.

Beverage service was cancelled and lapbelts tightened as the plane dipped at turned - under my (?) control. It was going to be a rough day.

Climbing through 10,000 feet, the air was still challenging and Mark reminded me that we could take turns flying. It's fairly exhausting trying to hold course and keep an eye on altitude while being shaken and stirred! We cranked up the oxygen and climbed higher still.

Further south than we had originally planned, but staying clear of weather that was clearly chasing us down as it sped south too, we seemed to be within spitting distance of Albuquerque for a ridiculous period of time because of our 50 mph headwind. Then, like a Christmas miracle, the edge of the front appeared and we saw sunshine behind it. We were now in Utah. Orange canyons and meandering rivers blanketed the ground below and Cal Black Airport was just a half hour away.

You might remember Cal Black from previous posts. It's the only airport to offer auto-gas as well as avgas (100LL) for miles. A cheaper alternative that N303B drinks just as happily.  Landing at Cal Black is pretty cool. The runway is long, but a bit narrower than what we are used to. Base to final is kinda over a canyon and the couple that run the FBO and live on-site are super sweet. We had last visited this airport 14 months ago, but as we stepped off the wing onto the ramp, we were greeted with familiarity and welcomed back. (Ok, so the guy remembered just me and inquired as to whether I was in the same plane as last time or with the same guy... But still.... Nice to be remembered!)

We spent 15 minutes at Cal Black. It was a welcome firm footing after our 3+ hour bumpy flight. I noticed a crib behind the front desk and asked. Yep, since we were last here our cute couple has had their first child! Charlotte, just 4 months old, was adorable. She made a short appearance to meet us and I got an easy-going smile from her.

Mark flew the next half of the trip to Reno. I was ready for a nap. My flying had taken us as high as 15,700 feet over the Rockies. We didn't need to go that high now, but it was still bumpy up until about 12,300 feet on the way to Nevada.

I took the opportunity to shoot some pics out the passenger window. :-)

We stopped briefly in Yerrington, NV for more fuel and the Realtor in me was horrified with the lock box situation. Normally the Pilot's Lounge or facilities are locked and the lock box typically is the radio frequency we use when landing. This was different. From a security perspective, I might also go as far as calling it pointless!

Landing at Reno before the sunset, we were greeted by Lew Gage. Bonanza legend and author. Mark has been listening to Lew's advice from afar for years and to have him offer us the use of one of his hangars for the holidays was both a really a nice gesture and fantastic opportunity to meet him.

Our Christmas holiday had began. And this year, we had made it slowly but safely all the way to Reno.

Cozumel Escape. Spring Break for the middle-aged?!

Dec 6

One minute over the Mexico mainland, the next, with the island of Cozumel in sight, we were preparing to land. Ever back-taxied at an international airport?  I have! With air-stairs rolled into place, the doors front and back were released.  Tropical air, warm and humid, flooded the cabin. And with it came the smell of vacation. Floral. Fruity. Delicious.

Took out my brand spanking new US passport and presented it for its first ever stamp, then hurried to meet the group outside.

Today I was also adding another first to my list. My 10 friends and I were headed to an all-inclusive resort for a week. Put your wallet away Dallice, all you need is this little blue wristband going forward!

The lobby with its marble floors and Christmas decorations was loaded with friendly staff and before I knew it, I wanted to try my hand at Spanish. No, I don't speak Spanish and despite my efforts I knew I was torturing this beautiful language, but my gracious hosts seem to appreciate my efforts anyway.

Fast forward 1 hour... Sunset at the beach followed by happy hour at the beach bar. We were waiting for the restaurant to open for the first meal together. Fun! Yes, my first "go with your friends" vacation too. Given that New Zealanders don't have Spring Break and I missed this unique cultural experience, I wondered if this might be my substitute... Except of course my friends and I were 20-30 years older than the average Spring Breaker's and most definitely smarter and more accomplished!

Dinner:  A buffet featuring meat, vegetables, salad, breads and desserts. My wine glass was never empty and my belly was setting me up for a food coma that I welcomed. Good food, company and conversation, followed by star gazing under full moon down on the dock with my sweetheart. Bliss. Much deserved, much anticipated, much appreciated, bliss. And there was a comfy king sized bed with our name on it shortly thereafter.

Waking up in Mexico, surrounded by lush foliage, sunshine and the call of a peacock. I'm not going to lie to you... It's a good life! Even as I pulled on shorts and t-shirt, I wondered if I would be warm enough. The Colorado winter was still fresh in my mind and I was not used to having warm feet yet. One step outside, however, settled me. Off to breakfast we went.

A short walk with just enough time to admire the flowers, pet the local cat and get excited about the little group of baby turtles dragging their wet selves into the morning sun.

Our group - 11 strong - sat at one of the few larger tables. This detail is important because it may have been the only reason we stayed there, not moving when "the noise" started.  Gail took her seat at the table, a boiled egg lolled on her plate. As she cracked it and raw egg white ran free and she commented about the egg being labeled a "3 minute egg" but not looking like it at all. Two minutes later an older looking, frail seeming lady, began coughing and snorting up phlegm into her napkin. She persisted and drowned out our conversation... She persisted until we giggled uncontrollably and had renamed her "3 minute egg". Boy was that start of something that will forever remain part of this vacation!

By the time the rest of my group departed for a diving excursion, I was clad in a bikini and sarong, with a new novel in hand.

The next few hours are a blur of photography, exploring, book and coconut cocktail in hand, chit-chatting under a palapa to my new friends - a group of real estate investors from Michigan who call their Cozumel escape, an annual meeting. There is much I can learn here!

My day was soon more than just lounging around. I found the spa and set about purchasing the "package experience" - not one but two massages over the next week.

Have you ever wanted to know what a chocolate massage entails? Me too! Well... One's body is massaged until substantially more pliable, then gets lathered in what I thought would be delicious chocolate smelling lotion. From my face-down position, it certainly smelled chocolatey and there was that slurpy sound as the paste was applied. After letting it settle into my skin a bit, the massage therapist (Irais) moved away from the table and I heard the sound of a shower start nearby. Steam filled the room and she bent down to my face and gently informed me that the massage was finished and I could take a shower now. Hmmm, that was probably a good idea. I was feeling a bit sticky and cooling off slightly. Pretty sure that I didn't want to put shorts and T-shirt over this here body anytime soon. I rolled over, prepared to sit up. What I was not prepared for was the mess I saw. Nope, not chocolate lotion so much as actual chocolate. EVERYWHERE! The sheets were brown and I was brown from the neck to the toes! Thank goodness the shower was only 5 steps from me. I stepped inside and watched in delight as the water ran dark for 5 minutes. Assuming when it ran clear again I had managed to rinse myself back to the color of a freckly white girl, I dried off and re-dressed. Mmmm... Smelling like chocolate, with freshly washed hair and relaxed soul, it was time to wander down the path, through the tropical gardens, past the locals (cats, peacocks, iguanas and copious staff) and back to my room. Tonight we had dinner plans at the Steak House.

Were subsequent days much different? Not really. I lounged at the pool, chatted with Michelle, Erin and Joyce and sampled more new delicacies. Another day, another sunset. A bit more book and absolutely nothing that threatened to take away the lingering massage-bliss of yesterday.

Tuesday was the day the others took off from diving to visit Chichen Itza with me. Or should I say, the day I showed them what "I don't do well on boats" looks like. The ferry to Playa del Carmen was tossed about relentlessly on the ocean for 30 minutes. I lasted maybe 15 before one of the staff herded me from the back of the boat to the bathroom... The final resting place of my breakfast, as it turned out.

We joined out tour bus on the other side, gobbled down the continental breakfast and sped inland toward the Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza. (Food on top of a squeamish stomach does feel better, in case you're wondering.)

Chichen Itza is a rather large national treasure. Ruins are still being uncovered and somewhat put back together. Our guide, a Mayan man with 30 years experience with tourists at Chichen Itza, was a wealth of knowledge. For several hours he tutored us on the Mayan calendar, games, rituals and community life. He showed us where to take pictures and advised us on the times of year that we ought to come back for more - the Mayan stone structures were built with the calendar in mind. Summer and winter solstice was vitally important.

There was a "walk the plank" type stone ramp that overlooked this cenote. The Mayans (influenced by other cultures perhaps) sacrificed virgins here. Not just unlucky little girls... But those born at the right time in the calendar, revered as royalty and groomed from birth for the ultimate ritual. All 48 skeletons found by modern day divers at the bottom of the cenote had flattened skulls. We are not talking about traumatic brain injury inducing, quick skull-flattening, but a slow process of deforming a skull using a flat board strapped to a head for many years while the girl grew.

The day was rounded out with a visit to a local cenote (sink hole/well) visit. This cenote is a major tourist destination, in case you can't tell. A swimmer walks down 90 steps to the bottom before launching themselves into the cold water. I heard it was refreshing!

Then we were off to lunch, shopping and that dreaded ferry ride again. This time, with not one but two anti-nausea tablets dissolved under my tongue, I felt sure I could handle the rough chop of the crossing. No such luck. Oh well... At least the resort offered that fabulous buffet dinner again once we reached "home" and let's face it, I had plenty of time to recover and feel better again under my palapa tomorrow. :-)

The group did a night dive later in the week. I saw them off at the dock. The night was calm and the sunset gorgeous. As the boat peetered off to a place not far from shore, I took pictures. Stunning.

For me, Cozumel was an entirely relaxing break from a busy home and work life. Doing "nothing" is a luxury that I think I'm not alone in saying, is rarely embraced in our daily lives. I couldn't remember the last time I had read a novel from start to finish, before I got to Mexico. The idea of sitting still on a reclining chair and enjoying the sunshine for several hours at home gave me anxiety... Or guilt... Or both.

Everyone needs a little R & R once in a while and this place was just perfect for it. The chance to stop and smell the flowers, taste every delicious morsel of food over slow dinners with good friends and wonder if tomorrows sunset could be as breathtakingly beautiful as today's, is a gift.

I am ever so grateful for the friends who put this together and invited me along.  Thank you Mark, Gail, Doedo, Stefania, Steven, Amy, Steve, Julia, Jon and Stephanie!