Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to Cottage Grove

The propeller rotates sluggishly, as the altimeter winds down during our descent into the Cottage Grove airport. The sky is clear, and the wind is blowing gently out of the east. We are currently descending through 3200 ft, towards our target altitude of 2000 ft, at which we will overfly the airport in order to figure out what direction to land. Our observation determines that we will land to the north (runway 33).

I make a radio call reporting my position to any other airplanes on the frequency for Cottage Grove: " Cottage grove Traffic - Cessna Six Niner Zero One Six is over the field at 2000, to join the 45 for 33 - right traffic - Cottage Grove" This tells other pilots what I am trying to do, and where I am going, so we can try to avoid a mid-air collision.

The approach into Cottage Grove is interesting as the airport is sorrounded by hills on all quadrants - the tallest being to the east and south. There are a couple of times during the approach when you are a mere 200-300 ft from the tree tops, and right before you land, there are trees just about 100 ft to the right. Considering this, I always brief my passengers about this approach so they know ahead of time that this is normal, since most people associate proximity to trees with newspaper headlines, fires, crashes, and the likes. Todays passenger has flown with me before, so he is no longer concerned about his safety - not even when he notices something unusual (more on this later).

At this time, I am rolling out of the last turn of the approach - the one that will get me lined up with the runway. As I come out on the runway heading, I immediately get the feeling of being too high, and my brain performs some of the fastest calculations I have ever done. There are trees at the end of the relatively short runway, and I wanna initiate a go-around if necessary, as soon as possible (go-around is a maneuver in which an approach is dicontinued, and the flight circles around to try to land again under better circumstances - they can be caused by many things, from gusty winds, to a deer crossing the runway).

My mental calculations tell me that if I continue my approach, I will touch down about half the way down the runway, and even though I may still be able to stop in time, it is an uneccesary chance to take. I push the throttle in, and pull back on the yoke to bring the nose up to the take off attitude. The airplane starts climbing - Good. So, we've circled around, and now we are rolling out of the last turn again, and everything loks better. We are about 400 ft closer to the trees, and I remember this is the way its suppossed to look like at this airport! The river slides under the airplane, and 3 seconds later the wheels make contact with the ground. The nose wheel immediately follows, and the flaps come up as I simultaneously apply full breaks. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Cottage Grove.

Taking Off - I mean, literally!

CONTROL TOWER: Cessna 46889, Wind 290 at 12, Runway 30, Cleared for Take Off, no delay - traffic on a half-mile final.
CESSNA 46889 (Me): 46889 is rollin'...

The throttle goes all the way in, causing the throttle plate to open. A rush of warm summer air flows into the carburetor, where it marries the 100LL aviation gasoline. The air-fuel mixture penetrates into each of the 4 cylinders, where it is compressed, and then, ignited. This controlled burning of the fuel-mixture causes the engine to produce power, and it provides the force that rotates the propeller.

The airplane starts moving, and wow...what a feeling....we'll be flying in just about 25 seconds!!! Gosh...FLYING...I never thought I could fl...- Wait, I am about to wander off-track again. Ok, so now we are moving down the runway, the engine developing full power, and I focus on steering the airplane with the pedals (that’s right; when an airplane is on the ground, you steer with the pedals). After a few seconds I take a peak at the engine gauges - Temperature and pressure, to be specific. Any engine abnormality would most likely produce an unusual reading on the gauge - such a raise in temperature, or a drop in pressure, or both. Everything looks good, so I have a green light to keep going....

I continue steering straight down the centerline with the pedals, and next, I look at the Airspeed Indicator (that’s pilot talk for speedometer, since it measures the speed of the airplane through the air, rather then the speed at which the wheels are turning). This instrument is key during take off. Every airplane is designed to take off at a designated airspeed, which varies depending on weight, temperature, and other atmospheric factors. In this particular case, I am waiting for Cessna 46689 to reach 50 knots.

I can hear the sound of the air flowing around the cockpit getting louder, and from experience I just know we've reached 50 knots. The airspeed indicator confirms it. I pull gently, but positively on the yoke (flight control wheel), and the airplane's nose comes up about 12-14 degrees, and 2 seconds later the main wheels leave the ground. Gosh, I love the silence of this moment. During the ground roll, there is a lot of rattling, which stops as soon as we are airborne. I love this moment - when sound confirms we are no longer stuck to the ground. Sometimes I feel that when I leave this earth, to go meet the almighty, it will be this way...there is something divine about every take off (the same goes to successful landings too!)

The airplane is beautifully established on the target airspeed of 54 knots indicated airspeed (KIAS). At 50 feet over the runway I lower the nose to about 8-10 degrees and allow Cessna 46889 to accelerate. As we reach 60 KIAS I bring the flaps up, and seconds later we reach our final climb speed of 67 KIAS.

AIRSPEED: 67
POWER: Full
FLAPS: Up
MIXTURE: Rich
ENGINE INSTRUMENTS: Green
CLIMB CHECKLIST COMPLETE

CONTROL TOWER: Cessna 46889, You are leaving my airspace, change to advisory frequency approved - have a good flight...
CESSNA 46689 (Me): Hillsboro Tower, thanks. I am sure I will...

Of Crosswinds, Turbulence and Decisions...

The freaking weather has been crap lately here in the PNW. Lots of storms, with strong gusty winds. Even though an airplane is highly vulnerable during Take-Off (low airspeed, low altitude, etc), it is a far more manageable task than, say, landing under the same conditions. This is probably related to the fact that Take-Offs are optional; you can always make a decision to stay on the ground if conditions are beyond the capabilities of the aircraft, or your own. On the other hand, landings are mandatory. Once you are airborne, you must land, one way or another. After checking the conditions at the airfield, I make the decision to Take-Off. Winds are 35 mph, with gusts to 45 mph, but it is lined up with the runway, more or less. Nothing too challenging; I just add about 10-15 mph to my Take-Off speed, watch for turbulence near the ground, and that's it. Landing at the destination is uneventful; winds are calm.

Upon departing from Seattle, the following warning is issued to us: "Cessna 62348, traffic is 10 miles, same heading, crossing 4000, a heavy Scandinavian Airbus 340. Caution wake-turbulence. Climb at your discretion to avoid wake turbulence and maintain 7000 ft". This means that as we climb, we will cross right through the horizontal tornado that the heavy Scandinavian beast leaves behind as it flies. This wake turbulence stuff is particularly bad during take-off. The Scandinavian Airlines A340 just took-off from SeaTac. Wake turbulence has a tendency to sink, so after a few calculations I decide to increase my climb angle, and try to fly over this stuff. I look out in the night sky, knowing that somewhere out there, probably really close, there is a small tornado eagerly waiting to flip my airplane upside down, or worse, break it up. Thankfully, my plan works, and we leave the area behind. During cruise at 7000 I prepare for the 2 plus hour flight back home. I am comfortable and warm. The sky is clear above, and a thin layer of fog covers the ground below. The GPS unit provides reliable navigation, until the internal battery decides to go sour, and I have to complete the rest of the flight navigating the old-fashioned way; radio beacons.

I reduce power, open the warm air bypass into the carburetor, to prevent fuel from freezing inside the engine, and allow the nose to drop a few degrees to initiate a descent into the terminal area. The flight has been smooth until now. As the airplane crosses through 3600 ft, on my way down to 2500, a small bump marks the beginning of the turbulence that would continue until the end of the flight.

We are level at 1500, looking for the airport, which is actually hard to locate at night, with the city lights. The GPS says we are about 2 miles to the Northwest of Troutdale airport, so I start a shallow descent to get set up for landing. As I keep looking for the airport, I notice a man-made structure in front of the airplane. This is not a good sign. I check the altimeter, and it reads 1200 ft. This thing, whatever it is, should not be there, I look down, to the side and I see a house and a side street. The cars look bigger than they should, and I immediately apply full power, and start a steep climb. I guess I'll never know how close I came to the hill. As I level off at 1500 ft again, I look outside and there is the airport finally! I cut the power out, and start setting up the landing: Flaps 10 degrees, speed is 85 mph, landing checklist is completed. Once I am lined up with the runaway, its just a matter of fighting the crosswind that wants to push me to the left of the runway. I prefer to use crab technique (pilot talk for pointing the nose into the wind). I hold that all the way down to just about 10 ft above the runway, kick the left rudder all the way to line up the aircraft with the runway, and lower the right wing. Not too much though. We touched down firmly, but not hard. Ideal for gusty conditions. This flight is over, and the next waits around the corner. I kiss the airplane goodnight and head home with a feeling of respect for how challenging, beautiful, mysterious, rewarding, professional, technical, poetic and inspiring this field of aviation is.

Painted Hills - The story of the beautiful sunrise….

The wind seems to be in deep sleep - the same as almost everything else around here. The only activity we can perceive is ourselves, a few rabbits, and the sky. The time is now 5:12 and Nico and I have been awake all night, enjoying the company we have missed for the last 8 years. We are camping on the mountains, about 30 miles from the Painted Hills unit of the John Day Fossil Bed National Monument. The fire burned all night, and about an hour before day break, we climbed onto the powerful Explorer and headed towards the Painted Hills to watch the sunrise. The hills on the distance are becoming more and more defined as we drive - Day is announcing its arrival. I step on the gas pedal a bit harder, in order to beat the sun to our destination.

We arrive at the entrance to the park, and the sharp left turn points the car towards the North. The road is narrow, but traffic is non-existent. Not even on Fridays at 5:00PM. The speedometer reads 75 mph, and all of sudden, a dozen pretty good sized rabbits decide to cross in front of me….I slam on the brakes….From that point on, my speedometer never read more than about 30 mph…We continue on, and the rabbits kept on crossing in front of us. My video camera, mounted on its hand-held steady cam, sticks out of my window, recording the happenings. The sun must be about 20 minutes from showing up over the hills on the east. A few cirrus clouds absorb the warm morning light, and sight is beautiful. The road makes a 90 degree turn to the right, and the pavement breaks down into dirt. We have officially entered the Painted Hills Unit.

The road climbs through the rolling hills, and with every turn of road, a more beautiful sight appears. Finally the whole beauty of this place breaks in front of the dusty windshield. I stop the car, and shut off the engine. The silence is dense and impenetrable. The sky serves as a conductor for cosmic sound, and I am certain that I can hear the noise from outer space. I move the steady cam in a slow circle to capture the vastness of the sight. The view on the LCD monitor is amazing… I close my eyes and allow the energy from this powerful place to soak my spirit and make a deep mark in my memory..

Lost in Condon, Oregon

The gas needle has been dancing on the "lower part of the bottom-lower section of the reserve" gas tank for about 20 miles of hot Oregon road…It has been 178 miles since I last saw any sign of human life. I wonder if it ever existed around here…

We currently drive a 4x4 Ford Explorer and the drive is big and soft. Big time fuel sucker too! – We finally start seeing signs for the town of Condon, Oregon…This confirms our GPS information, and we can finally relax about the gas problem. We go by some old, now abandoned, production plants, and a chicken farm; not a single chicken in sight. I think this chicken farm has been gone for quite some time…it smells of old chicken shiet…

My first impression of Condon is that people left a while ago. We are cordially greeted into Main Street by signs announcing festivals that occurred years ago.There is actually no one around... We cruise the whole length of downtown - Condon, and people are nowhere to be seen - At this point I am starting to get concerned that there is no fuel in this town, like the last town we went by! If that's the case, then we are finished. We are out of fuel, running on the fumes that still remain in the fuel lines. After some more driving, and a turn away from Main street, we find the gas station – it looks deserted….if not deserted, at least definitely closed. I shut off the engine, and have a look at the office, inside: lights are off, and no one seems to be in there. I think, maybe this is self-serve? The turn-of-the-century style pump doesn't seem to have a credit card slot for self-serve. As I am thinking of how to get back to the now 278 miles away Portland, Oregon, a lady comes from the back, and without saying a word, fills up my tank…$60.00 less in my wallet. I say thank you and we leave Condon, Oregon - for good…

As we drive off the north end of Condon, towards more inviting lands near the Columbia Gorge, the road becomes dirt, and we enter an area of flat lands, with canyons and small distant hills. The landscape is mainly a desert, and it would be hard to guess when it last rained around here…Isolated thunder storms can be seen in the distant sky, creating an interesting background for the amazing landscape we are driving through. The road becomes rougher and rougher with every mile, and the explorer is starting to show that it is more of a soccer mom 4x4, than a real off-road vehicle; it slides and skids on downhill sections, and the ride is uncomfortable because of the soft suspension. I step on the gas, and the vehicle actually seems to handle the roughness a little better when you go faster.

The landscape is actually amazing: the land is flat as far as your eyes can see, but the terrain is high (about 2000 ft). There are canyons and deep river beds everywhere. It is at this point that we start realizing that we have been on this dirt road for about 20 miles and it seems to be getting too rough. The weeds are about 6ft tall, and it seems like no vehicle has gone by this road in years! However, by our map, HWY 207 is a main State Route. It should be a little better than this dirt road…We have a quick look at the GPS and see that we are getting farther and farther from where we should be…we are lost…that's the only thing we know. As we think of whether to go back, or see if we join the highway from this road, farther ahead, an amazing view comes into sight: There are huge wind mills everywhere! They are owned by PGE and they are used to create power, probably for the local communities? The sight is unbelievable…

Instrument Rating Checkride – 09/03/2005 – With Mary Crittendon

Today, I became an Instrument Rated pilot after a 6 hr session with Mary Crittendon, the same Examiner I had for my Private Certification. I have to say, before I get into details, that the overall experience was great, and I learned a lot from Mary.
The days before the test, especially Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were agonizing. I felt extremely insecure of my ability to pass the oral portion. I seriously thought I had the flight portion down, but the oral was another story. First, I did not have an opportunity to take the Instrument Ground PCC class, which would have been so helpful. Second, my instructor wanted to get the training done before he left the school, which meant we only had about two months to get it done. We had to fly everyday, sometimes twice a day to accomplish this, and even though we got it done, that meant that I didn’t have much to study as I spent most of my time flying!

I received a call from Mary, around 6:00PM on Friday night, to give me a “fictitious” weather briefing for the IFR Cross-Country I was supposed to plan. The flight was a one way trip from Hillsboro Airport (KHIO) to Pasco Airport (KPSC) in Washington. She gave me the “weather observations” at KPSC and 3 other neighboring Airports and a freezing level of 8000 ft. I immediately caught the fact that she was giving me those weather observations to see if I knew the regulations regarding the required alternate and my judgment to determine which one of the three options would be the safer one. I pulled my L1-L2 Enroute Chart and took a good look at available airways that would take me to Pasco. To anybody who’s learned to fly in the Northwest it is common sense that some routes are better than others due to the mountainous terrain. As I am evaluating the different options, problem number two became apparent. Out of the many many routes available, there is only one that would allow you to stay below the 8000 ft freezing level, without colliding with a cumulous-granite cloud. I picked that airway, and proceeded to do a thorough flight plan, fuel calculations and weight and balance, even though she had said it was not necessary. When I was satisfied with my planning, and after reviewing every element many times over, to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, I was able to relax and go to bed early, after getting all my things ready for the next day.

I woke up at 6:00 AM the next day, for a 9:00 AM meeting time, took a long shower and headed to the airport to meet my fate, for good or bad. I met Mary at dispatch right at 9:00 AM and proceeded to the familiar office, where my Private Certification test had taken place almost exactly 5 months ago. We started talking about random things, and not before long we had engaged in a lively conversation about London’s 1960’s smog problems. She seemed surprised that I was aware of that disaster, and she then told me how she remembered riding her bike in smog so thick that she could barely see ahead of her. And, just like last time, we spent the first two hours talking like good ol’ friends. Nice!

We got started with paper-work, as usual. We had a 2 hour ground session in which I was very strong, answering all questions without problem. After that she said lets go flying. Mary has a great system going on for selecting approaches; she will let you know what type are required (1 Precision down to minimums, and 2 non precision – one has to be partial panel, one has to be full procedure, and one has to be GPS), then you select the approaches you wanna fly. I chose the following sequence: HIO -Farmington 3 departure – Aurora LOC RWY 17 full procedure UBG transition to a missed approach (We did this one partial panel!) – Hillsboro GPS-A to a missed approach – Hillsboro ILS RWY 12 vectors to final/down to minimums to a missed approach.

I performed the departure procedure without trouble, but I noticed we were getting quite the updrafts! Once we were over the Newberg hills it became obscene! I swear I was flying with the Carb-Heat on, at 1800 RPM on a 3 degrees nose down attitude just to maintain altitude! The first approach was kinda hectic. You don’t have much time in between take off from Hillsboro and the end of the departure procedure (UBG) which is also where the approach starts! Anyways, I was feeling lucky that day. I had never flown this approach with the procedure turn before, but I managed to fly it flawlessly. After established on the missed approach I call Portland approach, reporting back on the frequency, and I got a radar vector. Then Mary asks me to ask the controller to give me a random hold at Newberg, and to identify myself as a pilot conducting an Instrument Practical Test. We were on a heading of 270 and the controller, probably on purpose, gave an easy hold: “SkyHawkN54477: Hold NW of UBG, on the 310 radial. Expect further clearance at 2200 or when you advise”

After one turn, in which the needle centered DEAD ON Mary told me to advise the controller that I was ready for the next Approach. I requested to be taken away from UGB to descend from 5 to 3 and then off we were to HIO GPS-A approach. We did that uneventfully and proceeded on the missed approach. While on the climb Direct UBG, we got our Radar Vector, and were told to expect ILS RWY 12 Approach. Since we were right over the airport and they had to take us all the way out beyond the FAF I had a lot of time to set the approach up and even relax for a little bit, as my beautiful bird flew itself with ease under the proper trim settings. I proceeded to brief and fly a good ILS, with needles centered, never coming out any further than 1 ½ dot deflection. We advised the Tower controller that for Practical Test purposes we needed to descend to minimums, even though the local traffic at Hillsboro was landing in the same RWY but in the opposite direction. He didn’t like our request much but he agreed to it. We went to minimums and I executed the missed approach. Upon checking in with Approach I cancelled IFR and preceded VRF to the West Practice Area, for a couple of unusual attitude recoveries and then Mary told me to take her back to Hillsboro VFR. I flew a standard traffic pattern, Left downwind for RWY 30 and floated a bit to a soft landing.


We taxied back to the ramp, and after I shut down the engine she said: Diego, you’ve certainly earned your certificate” and proceeded to give me a couple of tips. She told me to use a piece of cardboard under my approach plates on the yoke clip so they don’t hang, preventing you from seeing the lower area of the chart. Also, she said, that even though it was good practice to tune radios and navigation equipment while executing a missed approach she said to ALWAYS fly the airplane first. Good advice. She went back to the office to complete the paper work and I finished post flight, feeling like I was in a dream; maybe not really sure that this had actually taken place…I stayed at the airport for the next 5-6 hrs, until sunset, watching the endless touch and goes on runway 30...

From Portland to San Francisco in a C172 (PART IV)

4th leg: Medford, OR – Troutdale/Portland, OR

So, right as the sun is setting, I hear the roar of the powerful 4 cylinder-piston engine rev up to 2400 RPM, and in 36 seconds the wheels come off the ground, and the wings start supporting the full weight of the airplane. We climb through the sky towards our target altitude of 8500 ft, and we quickly leave the Medford metro area behind. A few moments later, it’s completely dark. Nate and I chew on some dried fruit (banana to be exact), as we contemplate the vastness of the world around us. Soon after, we start over flying low level fog, which looks like a down blanket covering the distant ground. This makes me think about an engine failure scenario: What would we do? We are at least 50 miles from the closest airport with an instrument approach; we are in a 30 year old airplane that has only one engine. By the time we pop through the bottom of the fog layer we would be at tree top level, with no time to steer away from the obstacles of the tree-crowded hills. Fortunately, we pass through the 100 mile stretch of fog without problems.
We are now 120 miles out and we start getting prepared for our arrival. Everything seems fine until we hear the winds: the air is rushing out of the Columbia Gorge at about 50 mph! This will make for an interesting landing. As we get close we descend to 1500 ft to avoid the Class C airspace at Portland International Airport, and the ride gets obscenely bumpy. We entered an area of moderate turbulence, which never fun in a small 4-seater!! As we get close to the runway, I feel nervous because I am the copilot and I am not in control, but I trust Nate’s airmanship. As we cross the runway threshold with partial flaps, our airspeed increases and decreases rapidly with the wind shear, but Nate is compensating nicely for it, by adding 10 knots to his final approach speed. We touch down and decelerate, and I realize my hands are sweaty. We taxi the bird to the ramp, and head home with a feeling of victory after landing in a 35-45 knot wind. Just don’t tell my instructor ;- )

From Portland to San Francisco in a C172 (PART III)

3rd leg: Palo Alto, CA - Medford, OR (IFR)

So, after sightseeing the beautiful San Francisco area, we are ready to depart Palo Alto by noon. We are cleared for take off and the IFR routing takes us over the bay at 2000 ft for uhhh…say 20 miles. Beautiful. Once we are well-clear of the SFO terminal area, we are finally allowed to climb to our cruise altitude of 6000 ft. We are headed for Medford, OR to refuel and continue to Troutdale Airport. Today, my friend Nate is flying us back. He is a bright young pilot and has lots of confidence, which makes him a pleasure to ride with. I am handling the radios and he is flying the airplane, smooth as silk. We have been at cruise altitude for about an hour, flying over the Sacramento Valley when the controller tells us that a Southwest Boeing 737 will pass 1000 ft above us, same direction. We look for him, and he finally appears on top of us, over taking us quickly. The big beast disturbs the air as it goes by, and we look carefully for a minute or two, just in case we hit the turbulence it’s leaving behind. After what we consider a cautionary wait, we are confident we won’t get in his wake. Right after we lower our guard, there comes a pronounced bank towards the right (about 30 degrees), immediately followed by a left roll, which put us at about a 90 degree left bank!! The nose dropped and we started descending. Nate immediately retarded the throttle and straightened the wings, then finally leveled off the airplane – our very fist encounter with wake turbulence... The rest of the trip was uneventful, as Nate flew a nice VOR approach into Medford. We quickly refueled and headed for Troutdale.

From Portland to San Francisco in a C172 (PART II)

2nd leg: Redding, CA - Palo Alto, CA (IFR)

With full tanks of food in our stomachs, we head back to the airplane. The day is warm and beautiful in Redding. The temperature must be around 80 degrees. Its now about 3 PM and the next leg will be flown under IFR to make our arrival into the San Francisco terminal area a little easier. IFR, in simple terms, means that we will have to follow an exact course over the ground to our destination, and we’ll be in contact with an air traffic controller who will be able to tell us where to go and how to get there. This type of flight requires a more thorough planning and review of charts, etc. We did our planning and preflight sitting at a table outside while we enjoyed the nice – dry California breeze. After getting everything ready we started taxing towards the runway to “blast-off” and leave Redding behind us. The trip was beautiful. I had never flown around this area, and it was refreshing to be over some new terrain for once. Right at sunset we started receiving vectors from NorCal approach, preparing us to intercept the VOR/DME RWY 31 approach, with the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset as a background. We touched down smoothly and taxied out to the ramp where Nate’s Aunt was waiting for us. We spend the night at Nate’s Aunt’s house and the following morning we woke up early to go for a little tour of San Francisco.

From Portland to San Francisco in a C172 (PART I)

1st Leg: Troutdale, OR - Redding, CA


My friend Nate and I decided to take a trip together for the weekend. The first option we considered was Seattle, but somehow, that sounded boring, as we had made the trip on countless occasions. Instead, we decided to fly into the bay area. Nate has family in the area, which would provide these poor souls with a roof for the night, since a 4 seater airplane is a rather uncomfortable place to sleep… We met at the infamous Troutdale McDonalds for some greasy sandwiches and coffee, and to go over the details of the route of flight. As I pulled onto the parking lot, I noticed that the American Flag on McDonald’s property looks more like a kite. I get out of the car and the first thought that came to mind is that I am going to die - The wind feels like jumping into a pool of liquid nitrogen! I quickly RUN to the warm, sausage-stinking dining room. I met with Nate and he looks like he just had a “near death experience” himself! He looks frozen. I touched his shoulder just to make sure he wasn’t actually dead-frozen. We talked about the bad luck of polar bears and other miserable creatures that choose to live near the poles, and after finishing our breakfast and flight planning, we are ready to go. I am not gonna discuss what it was like to walk back to the car… We got to the airport, and the automated telephone recording says the wind is about 45 mph. WOW - During initial training they told us that it wouldn’t be advisable to fly if the wind was at or above 25 mph. Oh well, we got the airplane ready and headed for the runway. We hit quite a few large bumps during the initial climb, but after passing through about 5000 ft, the air was smooth as silk.
Our route of flight will take us along the willamette valley, more or less following the I-5 corridor all the way to Redding, California. The sky is pure blue and we can see far ahead through the plexiglass windshield from our view at 11500 ft. The engine instruments are all in the green and the engine sound is a beautifully steady purr, the cabin heat has been adjusted to keep us at a nice comfortable 70 degrees, and the bird is stabilized and flying itself with ease. After a few minutes of silently contemplating the beauty of the pacific northwest, and taking the usual snapshots, we head for the cooler!!!! - Hey hey hey! Dont even think about it! We dont have any "cold ones" in there! Only sandwiches, candy bars, and lots of water and fruit juices. After all, I am flying an airplane... We snack on the still fresh sandwiches and then its just waiting for the landscape to slide under us: first, salem, then Eugene, Roseburg, Medford, the magnificent Mt. Shasta and its companion lake, and finally we start descending into the Redding area, to refuel both our airplane and ourselves. Redding Airport has the BEST chinese food I have ever had. The restaurant is located in the terminal and it is quite convenient to park at Redding Jet Center to have your aircraft refueled, since you are withing walking distance of the terminal. Gotta tell you....the mongolian beef is out of this world, specially when served by a beautiful blue eyed asian waitress; I tipped her well for making our meal so enjoyable.