Back on the Line

Two weeks at home went by quite fast and I soon found myself at the top of the scheduler’s list of available pilots. I was still a little fatigued from my last trip, but I knew the odds against two bad trips in a row were low. So on a cool, misty Sunday morning I loaded my gear into my truck and headed toward base for yet another flight. Autumn was in full swing, bringing its usual wet and dreary days to the Pacific Northwest, so despite the fact I’d be away from my family for at least the next 11 days, I would not miss the steadily shortening days of fall.

After loading our gear into the aircraft, we started our pre-flight checks, assuring us that everything would work as advertised. Our auxiliary power unit, hydraulic pumps, airflow manifolds, and electronic alarms combined in a cacophony of sounds that assaulted our ears, even through my foam earplugs. Before long, we were ready. After starting our engines and finishing our last checklists, we taxied toward the runway through the steadily increasing rainfall.

It didn’t take long to leave the dreary landscape behind. We climbed from the dismal morass into a sky of boundless blue, leaving the layer of clouds beneath us like a sea of gray. Mt. Rainier rose from the clouds like a majestic island, its crown already dusted in white from its first snowfall of the season. As we rose higher, Mt. Adams and Mt. St. Helens were visible as well, likewise endowed in a splendor of white. As we headed south, the other grand peaks of the Cascades shared similar fates, as far south as California’s Mt. Shasta.

We soon descended over the San Bernardino Mountains of Southern California and easily spotted our destination. My co-pilot reported that we had the airfield in sight to SoCal Approach Control as I maneuvered for a right base. We configured for landing and I flew a visual final for the runway. After touchdown, I eased the thrust reversers out and gently applied the brakes. After taxiing clear, we preceded to the ramp and shut down.

It was a glorious day in Southern California: 79 degrees and sunny, the antithesis of cool and rainy Washington. I passed on the crew bus ride to base operations and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my face as I walked across the ramp. We had a long flight ahead of us, an aerial refueling flight all the way to Germany. So I’d soak up all the sunshine I could, especially since the same weather we left behind in the Pacific Northwest likely awaited us in Northern Europe.