Lee Annapolis Airport, terrestrial hangout of Bill Finagin.

Tied for my favorite airport is Lee, a small one outside of Annapolis, Maryland. Nothing against the airport, but it tops my list only because a pilot who flies out of there gave me the flight of a lifetime in his two-seater Pitts biplane. I was strapped tightly into the front of the cockpit via an elaborate seat belt that made sure I couldn’t damage myself from any angle. The pilot sat behind, flying with his set of master controls. A retired Rear Admiral, a champion stunt competition biplane pilot who teaches stunt flying, and a former teacher and practitioner of dentistry. Who would have imagined that combination? Maybe Doc Holiday. Bill Finagin, the 2008 inductee into the International Aerobatic Club Hall of Fame, has won stunt competitions all around the country. Years ago, after reading something about him, I called him on a whim and he kindly offered to take me up in an incredibly beautiful machine.

It’s a single engine biplane, but it’s fast, much faster than the Red Baron’s, The Pitts is an aerodynamic dream. It can climb 2900 feet per minute. During stunts the G-forces can be substantial. And disorienting. I tried to imagine what moves to make if I was suddenly given the controls, as when we were flying upside down. The only imagined outcome was an immediate nosedive into the ground. If I recall, our G-forces ranged from negative two to positive five. At times, it was all I could do to lift my camera. Bill told me that after five or seven stunt maneuvers most people not used to that range of fluctuating G-forces felt pretty exhausted. Then he did fifteen maneuvers that turned me to jelly. Loops, spins, rolls, hammerheads (stall turns), vertical lines, what have you.

I just kept praying please dear God don’t let me throw up in the nice man’s plane. Picture that scene in Mad Max: Fury Road when Max is strapped to the front of a Berserker vehicle moving at high speed across the outback. A moment or two like that. For Bill, it was just a flip off a diving board.

I recently caught up with Bill and asked if he was still terrorizing the clouds. He’s still flying and teaching acrobatics, as well as spin training, tailwheel checkouts and “most importantly, out of control recoveries. For that, the plane is actually put in an ‘out of control’ situation with the student keeping his or her eyes closed. When I say open your eyes the student preforms the recovery as we have taught him to do. Obi-Wan Kenobi would approve.

Though he quit flying airshows two years ago, he’s still an ACE (air competency evaluator) certifying airshow pilots annually. In the competition world of aerobatics, he teaches at judges’ schools and chief judge contests. Frankly, Bill’s flying is far more impressive than anything Jeff Bezos will ever do.

Bill was born in 1937. Imagine the gyroscope he must have embedded in his head.

By the way, if you need to see a man about a Pitts, Bill’s still the North America rep, call him at 410 353 2622.

You can read about Bill in the IAG (International Aerobatic Club).

Below are 2 videos of Bill:

Admiral flying in an airshow

Bill teaching a young student

Below are a few snaps from when I could lift my camera. It was a terrific ride. But my legs were like rubber when I got into my ’66 Corvair convertible, which is very low to the ground and that was a comfort.

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But how else was I going to get to the summer cabin in the small town of Rangeley in western Maine where my husband and I have spent the last 25 years? My husband was driving up earlier with a packed car — and I tend to commute back and forth from Washington, DC. So a number of flights in my future.

Already, my husband is sending me daily reminders of all the precautions I need to make both on board and in the Uber to the airport: multiple masks, don’t touch anything; take a lifetime supply of handi-wipes; don’t touch anything; wash your hands constantly; don’t touch anything. I’m feeling over-whelmed; also cautious but confident. Until I read another article about the potential dangers of contracting the virus in flight.

So I’m in the Uber and I want to ask the driver if he’s been to any restaurants, marched in a protest or knows anyone with the virus. I’m pretty sure those are all inappropriate questions unless I’m screening someone at a doctor’s office. I sit back — and then forward — and try not to touch anything.

Ashrin has to prove to the Uber Powers-That-Be that he actually has a mask on before we can begin our journey. Big Brother is watching our face coverings unless, of course, you’re at some packed indoor political rally in which case no one cares. And, of course, I’m worried I didn’t leave early enough. After all, it can take hours now to get through an airport. Yup, I should have left the night before.

Once at the airport — with multiple hours to spare before my flight — I now have to worry about whether or not I should risk going to the bathroom.  So I unsheath my sword in the form of the first of the 27 Purell sanitizers in my purse and brave the airport ladies’ room. I emerge seemingly unscathed.

I’m used to being in a supermarket with a few other masked shoppers, but walking the concourse among a seeming multitude of masks feels like an alien experience — as well as an experience among aliens. I don’t know whether to feel relieved — or appalled…   I am in a ghost town — empty check-in counters, empty security lines, empty restaurants, empty escalators — and yet still all I see are masks — and I know the virus lurks around every empty corner.

At the gate, all the masked marauders are attempting some sort of social distancing as I look for an empty row of seats to sit in. I feel uneasy and depressed as to what really is in store for our world in both the short- and long-term. I am angry at the random person not wearing a mask as if he were intentionally, selfishly, perversely trying to make a personal statement by risking the health of the rest of us. I look around to see if anyone else shares my dismay but all I see is a sea of eyes — and I haven’t yet learned how to read eyes.

I am flying Southwest, my favorite airline — and instead of the usual line-up of 60 passengers on both sides of the stanchion, they board 10 folks at a time at 6-foot intervals, all middle seats remaining empty unless occupied by family members. Okay, that’s reassuring.

On board, everyone is masked and cleaning every surface in sight — sometimes extending to their fellow passengers…  Across the aisle sits a man encased in what appears to be a full-body condom. I notice one or two goggles, and now fearing I will contract the virus through my eyes, as has been reported, I look down at my book and remain there, except that I can’t see any of the words because my glasses keep fogging up due to the mask.

I had read some articles about flights in which flight attendants were notoriously missing, abandoning the passengers in their care, which taps into former abandonment issues. Probably true for half the plane; abandonment issues are very pervasive. Also abandoned are my four free drink coupons wasting away in my carry-on. But no, this is Southwest Airlines, so yes there are flight attendants. I feel relieved but still bemoan the fact that my drink coupons are going to remain unredeemed.

In the middle of the usual safety briefing, I realize how surprised I am it isn’t on Zoom. I didn’t think there was anything that wasn’t on Zoom. I’m assuming that if there’s an emergency and the oxygen masks lower, you should probably remove your virus mask before attaching. These are things we didn’t have to worry about in the Before Times.

Upon arrival in Portland, I stay in my seat even while everyone else is retrieving their bags. Have they never heard of social distancing? Once outside and heading to my husband’s car, I can’t get my mask off fast enough. Breathing in the cool Maine air is like an elixir. Knowing that the state is very serious about its restrictions, I was not surprised to see a moose wearing a mask. Okay, so it was a large statue in the airport — but the message was clear.

I nod knowingly to the moose until I remember, according to Maine guidelines, I now have to quarantine for 14 days, just in time for my return trip to Washington, DC. What’s wrong with this picture? Ah, no — that’s right. I was tested for the virus the requisite 72 hours ago. So no worries, I’m negative. Until I realize I could have contracted it on the plane. So I’m still into the “what’s wrong with this picture?” mode as I head off into the sunset toward Rangeley.

Welcome to the New Normal?

The post You’re Gonna Get On a WHAT? Traveling in the Times of a Pandemic appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Blessings

I got a grateful phone call the other day. Rodger said he worked on a referral I had given him and was so excited and happy to be able to pay some of his bills. He was unusually upbeat and I shared his joy. And then he said something that I didn’t expect. He said “I’m giving you 20% commission for any referral you send my way.” To which I said, “No, this is God blessing you. Accept it all.”  He paused for a moment and continued to thank me.

If you know Rodger, he’s been having it rough for some time. He’s an honest, decent man but somehow people and circumstances have taken advantage of him. Few have treated him fairly. Most have said he did not meet their expectations. Compliments were few and far between. I’m guessing this is why he felt he needed to pay me, a good friend, for a kind deed. Dear God, take care of this beautiful man.

Did you grow up having to earn for every single reward? Sounds like many of us, huh? Many of us see strings attached to gifts. The give and take mentality has permeated society that when kindness is bestowed, we can’t even recognize it anymore. May I challenge you? Look around with a different lens. We are surrounded by so many blessings. I grew up with a weekly allowance worth 5 candies … that was enough then. What did you grow up with?

After counting all my blessings, for me, the most important blessing is the gift of salvation. You can’t buy it. You can’t earn it. It’s free. If you know what I’m talking about, you know you are blessed. If you don’t, I guess there’s a blessing waiting for you.

But this is just me.

TGIF people!

“Kindness is a gift everyone can afford to give.”
— Anonymous 

Joke of the Week

Thanks to Rodney of Manitoba, B.C. for sending this joke.

Thanks to Tom of Pasadena, CA who sent this newspaper clipping

Videos of the Week

Alexa for Seniors
Sent by Bruce of Kanub, Utah and Jeff of Pasadena, CA

Hey, I want one of these. I hope that I will still have a sense of humor when I reach that age.

WATCH VIDEO

Flying in Dubai
Sent by Tom of Pasadena, CA

A thrilling and dangerous exercise. One mistake and you’re done. High quality video.

WATCH VIDEO

Don’s Puns

From Don’s collection of puns

Heavy Thought of the Week

Sent by Rodney of Manitoba, B.C.

Parting Shots

Thanks to Garie of Makati, Philippines who shared this

Celebrating the Year of the pig:

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