Flying and Skiing

Ever since I was a little boy I have been in love with flying and skiing. Oh yes, women were in there too. But after I started having children, that didn't really work as children have to come first if one is to have self respect as a human being.

So, being in love with flying and skiing and the out of doors and mountains, and deserts and oceans is survivable with both inner peace and self respect and integrity.

Though unlike when I was young, financially owning a plane and flying myself around is something I could actually afford to do now. However, since my wife's step brother and his wife and their dog augered into the top of a mountain in Idaho about 5 years ago, I cant' do that to my wife. (That is not to say I won't take a flying lesson here and there because I really want to try landing a seaplane in Canada or Alaska on a river or lake).

My father's youngest brother also died in a plane crash in 1942. He was just about to be drafted into World War II within 2 weeks when a plane came up under him from behind and took off one of his wings. Since it took off both the other planes wings they were just a fuselage and therefore instant toast. However, he had one wing and so spun down like a top into power lines and an old woman who might have got him out went for her hose instead and he burned to death as he was screaming. It must have been awful for both of them.

My father always had World War II Army surplus skis as I was growing up. He also had a longbow and arrows that he shot flying fish with when he chartered a yacht to Tahiti in 1939, as well as a pearl inlaid wooden Tahitian spear he brought back and all sorts of shells you can't get anymore from the South Tahitian seas.

The skis I always eyed there in the garage until I was about 13 to 15 when I could fit the old ski boots and so one day I just picked them up and took them to the mountains with my parents to try them out. They were the old bear trap non-release bindings and I guess this was about 1963 when I was around 15. I can remember being upset that I couldn't afford to go to Mammoth Mountain on downhill Ski trips with friends during my teens. I can remember being very upset about this. However, I always had a girlfriend from the time I was 15 and owned my own car from one month after 16 always even now. So, I have owned at least one car or truck continually since I was 16 and often a motorcycle as well from age 17 until 40. I'm probably going to get another on road off road motorcycle soon as well as I really miss riding way out in the country away from people like I used to.

Finally in 1976 when my son was 2 my wife and I after we moved to Mt. Shasta, California went up to Oregon which didn't(doesn't?) have state sales tax which at that time saved us about 10% on our skis. It also saved that much or more on food so we would take a trip up to buy food in bulk also. It was about 2 hours away from Mt. Shasta by car on Interstate 5. We shopped in Ashland, Oregon. We went to a little ski shop near Lithia Park and bought the newest Cross Country skis that didn't need to be pine tarred then in 1976. These skis lasted until the mid 1980s when I went into a gulch and broke one when I bottomed out too deep. Though I have always rented downhill skis since 1976, I have always owned a pair of Cross country skis. When I broke ski in the mid 1980s I bought some wider skis with metal edges. I had had a few bad experiences when I couldn't get an edge with the 1976 non metal edge skis. One time I had slid sideways several hundred feet and barely avoided hitting a tree because I couldn't get an edge traversing a steep slope.

Though many people like downhill skiing, I(especially when I was young and adventurous) like to be as far from other people skiing as possible in virgin snow. For me, skiing has always been about being alone with God in an amazing environment. And skiing for me, has been like being Jesus walking on water(snow is frozen water). So, the most fun for me has always been skiing on 20 to 50 feet of snow when I could reach down and touch the tops of the highest trees or just reach out my hand and touch the tops of the highest trees even with my face standing.

There is something about mountaineering skiing that is just the best of what it is to be a human. I think starting in my mid thirties I began to feel that skiing was even better than sex because it could last longer(many hours) (even though I didn't feel that way in my 20s).

When I took my first flying lesson I was about 16 or 17 years old. However, before that my father's best friend was one of the owner's of El Molino Mills, a health food organic food milling company in Los Angeles County and his son invented Carob powder to be similar to Chocolate. It is for people allergic to chocolate.

One day I was flying with my father and his friend in his yellow 1949 Stinson. The first time he picked us up at Burbank Airport and we flew north to Santa Barbara. However, on the way back he got involved in talking to my Dad and flew into takeoff airspace for Los Angeles International Airport. So I asked him weren't we getting close to that airliner coming at us(probably a Boeing 707 then). He didn't say anything but pushed the yoke forward into a dive. I got a little scared because I knew this wasn't a World War II fighter plane and wasn't sure it could withstand a dive. Finally after dropping about 5 thousand feet he began to pull out and the wings shook which scared us all for sure. I didn't say much but was glad I had pointed out the airliner coming at us. Later he explained that if we had come within 1000 feet of an airliner like that it would have ripped our wings off from the venturis(wind currents) generated in the wake of that size of a jet.

Another time parents and my Dad's friend,(who passed away around 1969 or 1970) flew with my family to Lake Arrowhead and Big Bear and over Ed's desert retreat nearby. On our way back to Los Angeles County we flew north from Palm Springs through the pass between San Jacinto Mountain and San Gorgonio Mountain where there is usually a lot of wind coming toward Palm Springs through that pass. Ed gave me the controls at my age 12 and taught me how to crab into the wind(fly sideways) in order to keep a true heading without being thrown into a mountain. I suppose it is a lot like sailing a boat in this way of thinking.

Later, when I flew figure 8's when learning to solo I learned how to fly 8's and stay in reference to the ground even with a strong side or headwind. This can be very tricky but necessary if one doesn't want to be blown off course when flying VFR. Though I was never rated IFR I understand the necessity of IFR for flying through clouds without hitting another plane or for flying at night in clouds without any reference points.

I had promised my Dad I wouldn't get a pilot's license until after he had passed on because of his brother dying in 1942 in a plane crash.

Another thing, there is a saying, "There are old pilots and there are bold pilots but there are no Old Bold pilots!"

Since I have always been bold at everything in my life, probably not flying without an instructor is a good thing for my family to keep me alive for them.

So, there you have some of the loves of my life, flying and skiing and a little about motorcycles too.