Many of you who know me know that besides flying, one of my other interests in life is raptors--eagles, hawks, falcons, even owls. (Vultures don't count in my book.) I love reading about them, I love photographing them, I love watching them, and a couple of times, I've even been blessed with holding and hunting with them.
Even during my flight training days, I would watch for hawks perched on telephone poles during my drive out to Front Range Airport. Almost without fail, I would see one perched, or soaring high, or swooping low over the farm fields in search of a meal. When I spotted one, I knew it was going to be a good flying day.
A couple of weeks ago, Dan and I, continuing my flying in the Comanche, headed out to Cherry Ridge (N30) in Honesdale, PA for some breakfast. As it's a short strip, we actually flew to Monticello/Sullivan County (MSV) first for a couple of crosswind landings and to allow Dan to switch to the left seat to actually tackle Cherry Ridge. The crosswind landings were okay--nothing to write home about, but not overly problematic. I still have room for a lot of improvement, which will come in time and practice.
On the approach into N30, Dan overflew the field and entered the left downwind for runway 36. I just kept my eyes on Dan, going through the landing process in my head, seeing when he did things, how he got the plane set up, when the flaps came down, the plane trimmed, the gear down, etc. He was smooth, and a little white knuckled.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I espied two mature bald eagles circling at our altitude, well away from us so as not to be a factor. But there I am, flying, at the same level as two majestic eagles, their wings extended in a full soar as they swept in gracious circles, hunting over a bend in Middle Creek, which drains into the Delaware River nearby. Wow. I tried to take a couple of photos without distracting Dan too much, but the point and shoot just wasn't up to the task.
Dan made a great landing into Cherry Ridge, where we enjoyed a fantastic breakfast--french toast, eggs, bacon, coffee, oj and the homemade baked coffee cake bread....oh my. In winter, it's a homey little place to get some great food. In summer, they've got an outside deck that reportedly fills up fast, as folks enjoy some great food and watch the airplanes coming and going. As usual, we split a pan of the coffee cake bread to bring home (our wives hate us for it, but it's too good to pass up)!
The flight home was uneventful and fairly short. Because we had hit some turbulence at about 4,000 feet on the way out, we did 5,500 feet as our altitude on the way home. This put us into nice smooth air above the couple of meandering clouds. We picked up a nice tail wind too.
As we crossed the Hudson, Dan warned me that I had a problem. I started scanning the instruments even harder, looking for something amiss, something I could have overlooked. I checked the fuel tank to ensure I hadn't forgotten a tank switchover. As he wouldn't tell me what the problem was, I started to get more nervous and think things through. Then I remembered...his voice came into my head from previous Comanche flights...for every 1,000 feet that you need to descend to pattern altitude at your destination, you need about 15 miles in the Comanche to lose that 1,000 feet without picking up too much speed. With 4,500 feet to descend for Bridgeport (airport altitude 9 feet, so pattern altitude of 1,000 feet), I needed 60 miles to get my butt down....oops.
Unlike a Cessna 172/182 or the Warrior, the Comanche is such a fast airplane that it's HARD to slow it up. I started inching back the power (don't want to supercool the engine when it's nice and toasty) and remembered a trick Dan had taught me. Enter a slight climb to bleed off the speed more quickly. Through power management and some dirtying up the airplane, I was able to get down without overshooting the airport.
We got a right downwind for runway 29 and I did a pretty good approach, getting the plane trimmed to 87mph and fairly on the glide slope. I picked up on it quickly when she wanted to start sinking too fast and added some power to keep us on the glideslope. Touchdown was pretty nice, but I didn't make her stay down and, again, because she's such a clean plane and like to keep the speed, she tried to fly again. We kept her down, and rolled out smoothly.
As we taxied back to Three Wing to top off the fuel, I got yet another treat for the day. A mature peregrine falcon, only 5 feet off the deck, zoomed at me in a head on pass, and took me down my port side, sweeping up suddenly to perch on the short antenna complex in the middle of the field.
A good day of flying!
