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Jessica Cox, 25, a girl born without arms, stands inside an aircraft. The girl from Tucson, Arizona got the Sport Pilot certificate lately and became the first pilot licensed to fly using only her feet.

Jessica Cox of Tucson was born without arms, but that has only stopped her from doing one thing: using the word “can’t.”

Her latest flight into the seemingly impossible is becoming the first pilot licensed to fly using only her feet.

With one foot manning the controls and the other delicately guiding the steering column, Cox, 25, soared to achieve a Sport Pilot certificate. Her certificate qualifies her to fly a light-sport aircraft to altitudes of 10,000 feet.

“She’s a good pilot. She’s rock solid,” said Parrish Traweek, 42, the flying instructor at San Manuel’s Ray Blair Airport.

Parrish Traweek runs PC Aircraft Maintenance and Flight Services and has trained many pilots, some of whom didn’t come close to Cox’s abilities.

“When she came up here driving a car,” Traweek recalled, “I knew she’d have no problem flying a plane.”

Doctors never learned why she was born without arms, but she figured out early on that she didn’t want to use prosthetic devices.

Jessica Cox, 25, earned a license to fly airplanes on October 10, 2008. Jessica also has two black belts in Tae Kwan-Do, a college degree in Psychology, and a thriving career as a motivational speaker. What doesn’t Jessica Cox have? Arms.A bilateral congenital limb deficiency doesn’t stop Ms. Cox from achieving and surpassing her goals. From birth on, her feet became her hands. She can drive a car, type 25 words per minute, and fly an airplane using her feet, without any special adaptations. She is the first woman without arms to earn a license to fly. 

“I highly encourage people with disabilities to consider flying,” Cox said. “It helps reverse the stereotype that people with disabilities are powerless into the belief that they are powerful and capable of setting high goals and achieving them.” 

Jessica earned her Sport Pilot certificate after training with Able Flight, a North Carolina flight training company that specializes in helping people with disabilities learn to fly. Ms. Cox won an Able Flight scholarship and was able to train with instructor Parrish Traweek free of charge.

And with continued success, we hope to see you back at next year’s Open House too !!

Check out our Grand Opening Photos!

There is a sign above the Kitchen door of the Aeroclub of BC at the Pitt Meadows Regional Airport that reads: “It takes about 45 hours to know HOW to fly …. But a life-time to know WHEN to fly”. I thought,” how true”!

I’ve been feeling down in the last week. I miss the sun and sand of la Playa. If I am not flying I feel blue. I need to feel passionate about flying again. Besides, it’s that time of the year when sunlight is sparse and days are short here in the Northern Hemisphere.  I hear some people are affected by the “lackalite” syndrome. (I made that word up just now, but it is apparently a real psychological phenomenon). Besides, it is almost Christmas and it is also the time of year when people are stressed out and might feel blue despite dreaming of a “white Christmas”. I need to fly to shake my blues. But the sign above that kitchen door makes me sit up and take stock of all the conditions around me, both physically and psychologically. It stopped me from jumping into d’plane to go flying, even though the ski hills are inspiring this time of the year to savour from the sky.

Talking about a white Christmas….? What has it got to do with flying? Well, this is where Knowing “when to fly” comes in.  Look at the photos on these pages… beautiful white snow mountains. Winter is a great time to fly because the terrain has been magically transformed since the summer. The glaciers, the ice covered peaks, and the snow dusted mountain ranges, are awesome to behold.  But hold on. Winter flying can be hazardous to your health.

Weather is a big concern for pilots. We are all eager to go out on a bright sunny day to see the glorious sights from the air. But the weather can change dramatically, causing drastic results, between take-off and landing. In a worse case scenario you might have to divert to another airport, or worst yet, one that is outside of your fuel range warranting an off-airport landing; if you haven’t maneuvered d’plane into a “controlled flight into terrain” first. (It’s called C-FIT to us aviators… a dark humor for a dreaded airport ID). Knowing when to fly can take a life time to figure out when it comes to Meteorology. The only way to know your weather is to keep checking and updating. Checking en-route weather with Fight Service Stations, PIREPS (other pilot reports), as well as NOTAMS, (Notice to airmen) are a must.  Newer Models GPS actually have XM (Satellite) WX available.  But that is a separate topic. 

Learning to use one and monitoring one in-flight is added work. Pilot weather decision making ability is crucial. The only way to stay ahead is to learn ahead. We always say, “a pilot license is only a license to keep learning”. And it is non more true than in learning “when to fly”. The famous “go-no-go” line that pilots use when deciding whether to go flying that day is no longer just a saying, but an axiom to live by.

Knowing “When to fly” has other constrains as well. Just as important to a pilot is his or her own mental state. Flying demands that your mental faculty is sharp at all time. Flying, stress, and blues are not good combinations. (The only “blue” I wanna see are blue skies and oceans). I always say, when you are driving, you can pull over on the curb, but when you are flying, there is no pulling over. Like I said earlier, this is a stressful time of the year for a lot of people. So, unless you are in top form, don’t fly.  Wow! I never thought I’d ever say that. It’s an antithesis to my bread and butter. Telling people not to fly is hazardous to my financial health. But I want you around long enough to make me wealthy.  Hey, here’s more….

IF YOU DRINK, DON’T FLY!!   Pilots are told early on in flight schools, “Bottle to throttle, eight hours”. And more is added to that by other pilots that say, “Bottle to throttle, eight feet” meaning,  “Stay eight feet away from d’plane if you drink”. I like that one!! (The M.A.D.D. people otta come fly with us now). It’s the Holiday Season right?  Snow, Ice, Booze and flying don’t mix. (Ahhh, but ice in Magaritas mix well après flying…..This one is for my dear co-pilot friends Capt. Peter Ravioli and Capt. Wilf Cher….an inside joke… Cheers guys)!! I love the après ski and après flying hottubbing too.

Lesson #1 : Always party après. 

In a way if you adhere to some simple rules such as, don’t fly when you are bad, mad, and sad, it shouldn’t take you a lifetime to “know when to fly”. It is better to arrive late in this world than to arrive early in the next world. Kind of a cheesy saying put out by Transport Canada; but true!
Hate to put a damper on your winter flying…. But I can’t help it coz it’s kinda damp out there today and I thought it’s a good time to remind all my amigos Y amigas  to take a moment to be extra cautious and evaluate yourselves,  as well as check the weather forecast before you take flight. On days that are non conducive to flying, d’plane needs your loving care and attention to its winter maintenance. So, go look under her cowling! You will both benefit from it (I’m not going there for now).

But for now, I will say, to all my pilot friends and soon-to-be pilot friends out there, GOOD CHEERS for the Holiday Season.  We Hope and wish to see you flying soon with Cobalt Aviation. Give me a jingle some times @ 604-465-3328 and we can chat more about d’plane, flying, winterization, or whatever “hangar talks” tickle your Elmo!  

(Ho, Ho, Ho!!  Did I just make a Freudian slip about what I want for Christmas?)   HASTA LA VISTA y FELIZ NAVIDAD, AMIGOS!!

From the Jungla of Mexico… … this is Capt. Erissa Yong-Wilson, a Private Pilot speaking.

Hola Y Buenos diaz! Si, Si,

I just got back from the Mayan Riviera. Mexico, after 8 days of sun, sand and flying… … … .and YES, skydiving too!

Getting ready to jump out of a perfectly good plane! This is XB-EOI (Mex. Registry). Don’t know why But just gonna try!

3 years ago, my dear partner Dave, told me I don’t have the guts enough to jump out of a plane. A dare that won me a crisp $100 bill. Needless to say, he made a dare devil out of me because since then, I have earned my pilot license and have become addicted to speed and height. Two elements, that when combined, is better than Prozac!! O.K. I am not saying I needed Prozac, but the adrenaline rush you get from flying and jumping out of a plane is why so many thrill seekers seek the sports.

download Marko Man – G2016 mp3

Look at this face and you can savour the experience if only vicariously

Jumping out at 12, 000 feet over the Caribbean Sea.

I am not a certified jumper yet. But you may think I am “certifiable” (as in Coco-loco)!Flying in Mexico is lax. That is why we love to go to Mexico. It is lax, it is relaxing and the easy going attitude of the inhabitants there is what makes it so attractive to us, the anal-retentive, cool, Northern birds! It must be the sun and the salt air and salsa that make the people hot and happy. They are not too bothered with procedures, when it comes to flying, like we are!! I suppose there is good and bad to be said of that attitude.

Unlike flying in Canada, my experience last week while flying in Mexico was a humorous, fun filled, yet sobering experience. My friend Gonzalo, who was strapped to me 3 years ago in my first sky-jump in tandem, has an amigo who owns a flight school in Playa Del Carmen. I told him I have earned a Canadian pilot license and would like to rent a plane to go flying while I was in Cancun. I would like to fly the 150 nautical mile triangle between Playa Del Carmen, Corzumel (an Island) and Cancun (the YucatanMainland). The flight school wants to know if I would like to rent the Cessna 206 or the Cessna 182. I said, “NO, Mi Amigo, I only fly a Cessna 172, or else I would need an instructor with me for the Cessna 182 or the Cessna 206”.

Jose (pronounced “HOS-se” for us, not too fluent in the Spanish lingo) the flight school owner says, “No, no Cessna 172, just 182 or 206”. O.K. O.K. I opted for the 182. I have flown the constant speed with the variable pitch propeller bird before, I just like the 172 better especially flying in a strange and unfamiliar terrain. They like this a lot. This means I have to pay for an instructor to be on board with me. A $150 an hour instructor,
and that is in $US!! D’PLANE costs another $150.Also in $US. Comes the day to fly… … … ..I can see the Cessna 182 sitting on the tarmac. Its call sign is XC- SOL (I like the registration call sign. “SOL” in Spanish Mexico means Sun. But in Canada, you and I know the acronym could mean “@#$% Out of Luck too!!

I showed up and showed off my Canadian pilot license. I was so proud to point out all my hard earned paper work… … … guess what ! NO ONE GIVES A #@&* about my paper work. ALL they wanted to see what my $US300 CASH.Money talks bull-@#$% walks. Money changed hands. We walked to D’Plane. Jose jumped into the left seat. I looked at him and thought, what is wrong with this picture? I said I rented d’plane. I was gonna fly. I should be in the left seat. Jose said, “O.K. Amiga, you are the chief pilot today. You sit in the right seat, I talk to the tower and I control the take off and the landing and you fly the plane the whole time”… … ..in his “Spanglish” (broken English in Spanish accent). Now, I am not that foolish. I know if I am not in the left seat I am NOT the chief Pilot. I’ve been had, I’d say. Anything goes in Mexico. So, she goes along with it!

I did what he asked. He jumped into the left seat. I did not say he did any pre-flight inspection of d’plane, did I? Nope. I did not ‘coz he did not! I had the nerve to protest this to which his reply was, “Don’tworry, be happy”!! I took a cursory glance of the instrument panel from left to right and I saw familiar instrument gauges, but many had rusts on them. The throttle, the Prop, and mixture controls actually were rusty.

My extreme urge to fly, to soar over the Caribbean, is now tempered by my urge to jump out of my seat and leave… but the thought of my having fork over three perfectly good $100US bills made me remain in my seat. To which you say, “Is her life worth only $300US”. To which I say, “When you are in Mexico do what theMexican do”. Too late to think. Jose started up the engine, and before I could blink,we were barreling down this short, little, ill-maintained, bumpy runway, to back track for a short field take off into the blue sea yonder. No preflight checklist, no checklist of any kind. Nada, Nyet, Nema, Nine, NO, in any language, it is simply, NO CHECKLISTS !! Overhead, another plane was circling to land. Too close for comfort. A Cessna 206 Methinks, no doubt, with some rusted out nuts and bolts on the cowling covers and some in some other places too. The pilots actually conversed in Spanish with each other. What ever happened to ICAO English (that would be International Civil Aviation Organization to the non –aviator among us.)? The instructor in our plane also spoke Spanish to the flight towers in Cancun as well as in Cozumel. Did I not say anything goes in Mexico? I suppose our “Canuckian” commercial pilots flying the Jumbo jets into Mexicomust comprendo y habla some“Spanglish” too.

The one hour flight was remarkable. As far as the eyes can see, to the West was the tropical jungle of the Yucatan, marked by the Tulum ruins of Coba (Mayan and Aztec pyramids) and to the North Lies the beautiful Cancun peninsula punctuated by huge hotel on the beach resorts and to the East, the Island of Cozumel with three huge cruise ships (I can see the Carnival line, the Royal Caribbean and the Princess line) all lined up to dock on the Island. To the North East is the Isla Muerjes, which in Spanish means the Island of women. Here they raise Sea turtles and is the fourth largest green sea turtle habitat of the world. To the South, we could see the water world resorts of XCARET and XEL-HA. (Pronounced, ISH-Ca-RET and SHELL – Ha). They swim with dolphins there. Three hammer head sharks ( each about 20 feet long ) were circling just among the coral reef about 100 feet off- shore, and unaware swimmers were abound in the shallow, crystal clear, Turquoise blue, shallow waters just off Playa Del Carmen beach.

We only flew 1000 ft. MSL and it amazes me that they do this over the water as there was not enough altitude to glide to shore if there was an engine failure. Upon my protest of flying at such low attitude, Jose replied me with a smile and another, “don’ t worry, be happy”!! We flew midfield over Cancun airport as well as Cozumel airport to avoid collision with incoming jets bringing more tourists to liven up the Mexican economy. The airspace to fly in was very limiting. We could not fly above 1000 ft. and not below 500 ft. either, as helicopters were flying below 500 ft. between Cancun and Playa to  ferry tourists and business people along the coast. Upon my complaint about the limiting airspace … … guess what Jose’s reply was? …. JU GOT IT, AMIGO!!…. He said, “DON”T WORRY, BE HAPPY”!!

I could go on and on about the flight and the trip, but space is limiting here too. So, if you want to hear more about the flying, the skydiving or the whole enchilada of my trip to Mexico this time, then you must drop in at COBALT AVIATION and look me up so I can shoot more breezes with you. I have about 900 photos to share with you too. Thank God for Digital cameras.

Until then, here is ERISSA saying ADIOS and HASTA LA VISTA again. Blue sky and tail wind to all you pilots and soon to be pilots out there.

Runway 29/11 Playa Del Carmen, Mayan Riviera, Mexico. Yucatan Jungle to the East and Caribbean Sea to the west.

“Golf, Sierra, Quebec, you are cleared to land on 26L.” Those, folks, are the sweetest 10 words you’ll hear at the end of a long day flying. Why am I making such a fuss about it? Let me tell you. With those 10 words it means that I am Number one! Being number one means a whole slew of things. I shall tell you what they mean in a moment. It’s definitely not like, “Who’s on first?”
With a landing clearance from the Air Traffic Controller (or the tower), I know I am ready to make all the moves necessary to imple-ment a safe landing. My pre-landing checklist is run and my cockpit duty is done. (I don’t know why they still call it the cockpit with so many female pilots occupying the front office of a plane these days). With a grin on my face and a trim of the wheel, and a swirl of my tired butt, I can set the plane on the right speed and pitch attitude and pre-pare to fly the last critical mile in for “Final” to make a soft touch down, “like a butterfly with sore feet.” (One of my instructors used to say that, even though no one can prove nor disprove if a butterfly ever has sore feet)!

So, why is it so important to be number one? Well, besides the usual connotation of being in first place, being number one means these things to me:

1)  When I am number one, I don’t have to extend my down-wind, to who knows how far, in order to allow the plane in front of me to set up its landing rituals.  Extending my down-wind means flying low and slow (circuit height), maintaining my altitude, maintaining my speed. This is when the mantra “Power and attitude equals performance,” keeps running rampant in my little head. It’s one of those cheesy but good sayings instructors throw at their students to make them fly better (tongue in cheek). I have to pay extra careful attention to my instruments and to look out for traffic at a critical time of flight when I am already tired from a long flight. I am al-ready taxed, and now I have to summon up extra energy and garner a second wind to fly the plane right to bring me down safely. I am not complaining. Nor am I saying that I can’t do it. Been there, done that. In the initial stages of flight training I used to love it, as it gave me the opportunity to learn the unpredictable. In the initial stages of training, the flights were usually short and sweet, and any “extras” thrown my way were considered “bonus learning.” Pilots are supposed to fly with their minds. They ought to be always mindful and vigi-lant, and “fly ahead of the plane.” A good pilot should be able to anticipate a situation and comply with instantaneous instructions from the tower. (It’s called having “situational awareness.”) Nonetheless it can become demanding if you have anticipated a “typical landing” (in your own little head) and the tower throws you a curve ball just as you make the radio call to announce you’re  “inbound, for landing” inten-tion. Or even before that, if you’ve been listening to the right frequency, “d’other plane” in the pattern has been cleared to land and you know you’re not number one.

2)  When I am not number one, and the tower wants me to “extend your downwind,” and it doesn’t tell me how far to fly and to what point, or what vector to fly (for the non-aviator, a vector simply means a heading); I am afraid they might for-get all about me, and leave me flying all the way back to where I’ve flown from 8 hours ago. Lots of laughter! That thought had occurred to me in my early days of flight train-ing. It was legitimate anxiety time. When my instructor was in the right seat, I used to feel less anxious because I had im-plicit trust in my instructor (sometimes I was being naïve, but most of the time, I truly believed in his competency to swoop in and save my bacon, and rightly so).

3)  When I am not number one, I know it will cost me more money than I had expected to spend that day for flying. And that does not make me happy. With “avgas 100LL” at $1.50 cents a litre in most airports (For non-aviators, that is aviation fuel, with 100 octane, and low in lead … yes they still have lead, as lead makes for a good lubricant … only for plane engines, that is!) My (not so little) Cessna burns 8 gallons of avgas an hour. An extra 15 minutes of “extend your down-wind” leg could cost me my “après flying” fun at the local watering hole. That would not be a good thing.

4)  Sometimes, because you are not number one, the tower may tell you to “Maintain altitude, and do a Right, 270”. This procedure is to buy time for d’plane which is ahead of you toland first, without conflict. For now, that means you have to keep your plane on the level without losing height, with throttle and pitch control, and make a “standard rate turn” 270 degrees from your heading to the right. And that is YOUR right. (For the non- aviators, a standard rate turn is a 360-degree turn in 2 minutes time.) In this configuration of turn-ing required of you, you start to scramble with mental arith-metic and visualization quickly while you attempt to comply with the tower’s instruction; at the same time, blurting out “Wilco,” meaning you will cooperate; followed by a repeat oyour call sign (in a panic, you could say it wrong too, espe-cially if it is the first time you’re flying that bird). The tower knows you are sweating by now. But the traffic controller, being a true professional, standing over the radar surveillancescreen up there in the tower, will not try to flap you.  As if this was not enough, you also have to repeat the instruction back to the tower, so that they know that you know what you’ve been told to do. And all this time you are playing an-other mantra in your head … that of, “aviate, navigate, com-municate” which is what you’ve been told to do. When in doubt, fly the plane first. But the tower wants to know … NOW. You are busy aviating, and not communicating. All of a sudden, silence is loud in this scenario.  You are trying to stay cool. So you say to the tower, “Standby.” You say it just like a “Pro,” as if you know exactly what you are doing. All the while you are trying to figure out why the heck you started flying in the first place! (And on the ground, they are trying to take your cell phone away when you’re talking and driving!)  I learned quickly that flying is all about multi-tasking. In a split second the frenzy vanishes because you say to yourself, “fly the plane”, and then you do. 

And before you know it, the plane is flying itself. It isall trimmed out. The auto- pilotis on and all is well. You are onthe right heading again; and thenext call is from the tower tell-ing you that you are cleared to land, and you are now number one. NOW you can breathe again. Isn’t learning to fly so much fun, exhilarating and breathtaking (as in “take my breath away?!”) 

It challenges you physi-cally, mentally and emotionally and makes a better person out of you at the end of the day. The tower is not trying to put you through a test to see if you can do what it is that they want you to do. The tower doesn’t care if you can fly and chew the prover-bial gum at the same time. The tower operates for a safety “traffic separation” reason, and it assumes you know what to do when you’re not number one. After all you’ve passed the flight test. You are a full-fledged pilot. The tower expects you to comply. So, you comply. It is vital that you comply I was told. It is not so difficult for all those seasoned, veterans/pilots/mathematicians out there to comply with vectoring, separations and intercepting instruc-tions. But for a rookie pilot it can be intimidating in the be-ginning of a solo flying experience and at the end of a long flight. However, the good thing is, as you get to fly more and more, they (the procedures) can become second nature and flying can become easier. Hence the saying, “Practice makes perfect.” Transport Canada safety circulars tell you that pilot error is most common during the pilot fatigue phase, so we need to pay extra attention when a tower deviates from the standard, “You are cleared to land, you are number one,” clearance call. Especially at the end of a long flight from NewMexico which began 8 hours ago. Your body might be cramped and your mind is wandering home to your own bed. After all, you’ve just spent a week sleeping in a tent on the desert floor with scorpions and rattle snakes. You want to make “final” for that soft landing; you don’t want to make it your final and last landing (pun intended).

5)  And finally, when you are not number one, and d’plane ahead of you is not landing as expected, you might have to re-engage and fly a manoeuver which pilots call a “go-around.” That, my dear readers, will be the subject of another story. So, now you know why I like being “number one.” (I have been number 2, 3 and 4 before too. I have no problems with being number 2, 3 and 4, any-more. The sweating days are somewhat over. But I still prefer to be number one.)

I love to ramble on and on about flying … flying is my pas-sion (even when I am not number one for landing). But I havto go now. 
I would love to be Number one on your list of flightschools to call when you’re looking for a flight experi-ence. Be it sight seeing, or flying lessons. Just come down to Cobalt Aviation and look me up and I will tryto satisfy your flying passion as well. For now, this isErissa saying adios, and blue skies and safe flights, toall the pilots and soon to be pilots out there.  Hasta la vista!

I love that character “Tattoo.”  “Bozz, Bozz, d’plane, d’plane.” Those four words opened my eyes to the world of little planes (small aircraft, I mean).

When I was little, I lived in a little town called Miri. Miri is 60 miles south of the Sultanate of Brunei, whose ruler was once the richest man in the world, that is, until Bill Gates came along and made silicon more desirable than black gold (oil). Miri boasts the first oil well dis-covered by the British Shell Company in the deep jungle of Borneo.

Borneo, in my youth, was primitive. I grew up without television. Naturally when I arrived in Canada back in 1975, and discovered that television was as common as a couch, I got myself a TV, brand name Quasar. Why? Because the tagline on the box said, “The quality goes in before the product goes out.” Some of you may remember this. As a person from the land of no TV, I had to get the one with definite qual-ity. Taglines sell! It was the kind of TV where you actually had to haul your butt out of the Lazy Boy chair to change the channel. Some of you will also remember that there were only 13 channels on the dial. I only had 3. I could not afford “cable,” and Mr. Roger then, was “unhackable,” so that meant, “No pay no say!” (An old Chinese say-ing)!

And so it was that with my TV I explored the world beyond my imme-diate surroundings, which in the early years of my existence in Canada were pretty limited. Today we try to limit our intake of “tv-itis” be-cause there are better things to do out in the real world than watch TV … like going to a real airport and flying a real plane. But in my younger days, TV was my teacher. 

And so it is that I got to learn a lot about planes and flying boats and crafts from watching TV. The documentary Wings over Canada still remains a very entertaining and educational, as well as an eye-opening show for me because not only does it enlighten me about flying but it truly opens my eyes to the fact that:

“WOW … there are places in Canada that are truly GORGEOUS.” There are places in Canada that are only accessible by float planes and by small planes, kind of like the small plane that flew over Tattoo’s head while he pointed at it and yelled, “D’plane, d’plane.”
Last time I said I would talk about some of the most beautiful places I have seen in our Province from the air. Well, I am going to try, but words will do them great injustice. I will try anyhow. 

On a cold February morning, Sparky (his real name) Imeson, my mountain flying guru and great friend, and I decided to fly to Gimli, Manitoba, to fetch my new acquisition. It is a 1975 Cessna 172, a four-seater small plane, like the one Tattoo pointed out; like those that are constantly buzzing over your head and house while the pilots in them learn how to land at Pitt Meadows airport in what they call “circuit training.” (Next time you hear a sound of a small aircraft, do like Tattoo did; run outside, drop what you’re doing, look up and point at it and yell, “D’plane, d’plane,” as loudly as you can. I promise you, it is most therapeutic and if you have a bad neighbour you want out of your neighbourhood, it might work!)
I am famous for getting off topic … alrighty then, back to Gimli, Manitoba. Gimli is the site of a strange landing that occurred back in July of 1983. An Air Canada Boeing 767 actually glided to an unserv-iceable runway making an off-airport landing because it ran out of fuel. You can Google “Gimli Glider” on the internet and read more about it if you like. 

The day Sparky and I attempted to fly out of Gimli, Manitoba; the temperature was minus 40 degrees Celsius. THAT IS COLD. For a tropical bird like me, it is cold beyond description. Cussing did not help. I had to drop in at a local Sally Ann store to buy an old beaver-pelted coat just to keep my skin from cracking. Now I know why the Hudson Bay Company people became fur traders up North in the good old days.

My newly acquired Cessna with a new engine refused to start. The mechanic was called in to help crank the engine up. Finally we were able to get airborne after a long run up. Everywhere I looked the ground was white and frozen. Flying across Lake Manitoba was a complete “white out.” The lake was frozen; the clouds were low so visibility was poor. Sparky flew IFR (that’s Instrument Flight Rules for non-aviators). Without IFR we would not have been able to fly out that day.

The weather started to clear towards Regina. All the way west to-wards Regina and Medicine Hat, the flight was as boring as the ter-rain were flat and non remarkable. A dramatic change in scenery happened just as we approached Lethbridge, Alberta. The Foot hills of the Rockies were awe inspiring as you get to see the terrain slowly rise. The ridges and mountain tops were sprinkled with snow and punctuated with glaciers. As we approach the mountain ranges, we could see frozen lakes and blue lakes which just appeared as though they were suspended in the valleys and between mountain ranges. Blue Hawaiian punch bowls I thought! The cold dry air in the plane made me thirsty and I looked down from 1000 feet above ground level to see a Hawaiian punch below me … reminded me of the ancient mariner saying: “Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink!”

The Kootenay lakes, the ski hills of Big White, Apex, and even to the North, the Silver Star Mountain of Vernon were clearly visible as we pressed westbound on our journey home to Pitt Meadows. Runways below us enroute were easy to spot, contrasted by the white snow-covered surroundings. I started to apply some of the “Mountainology” knowledge I had learnt from Sparky.  Like, how to cross a ridge at 45 degrees angle; how to dive over the ridge; how to “feel” where the updrafts and downdrafts were coming from by watching the vertical speed indicator; and how to tell from the snow deposits on the side of each mountain where the prevailing winds was coming from. Now, that is a lot more interesting than flying a flat terrain, any flying day, I’d say! Most of all I learned how to manage the fuel mixture and engine performance in high altitude and low temperature.

The most incredible sight was seeing Okanagan Lake and Skaha Lake appearing before us as we neared Penticton. All of a sudden the Snow and white gave way to more greenery and darker waters. The terrain had changed quite a bit. And then there was a change in temperature. It became a lot warmer.

We made our gradual descent into Penticton for runway 34. To fly the final leg to this airport in a small aircraft with the water so close as we approach over Skaha Lake and then gliding over the beach onto runway 34 has become a thrill for me up to this day. I still take off to Penticton from Pitt Meadows some mornings just to recreate that thrill. Often as I near Penticton I pray the wind will be blowing from the North, which it usually is, just so I can fly over Skaha Lake to land on runway 34. I know how much fun float plane pilots must have each time I do that! Someday I’ve got to get myself a float plane too. 

For now, I have to leave you again. I shall continue my journey in the next issue of this awesome rag. Until then, this is ERISSA from COBALT AVIATION saying, ADIOS.  To all the pilots and future pilots, I wish you blue skies and safe flights.  

For tips on mountain flying techniques, if you plan to venture into the mountains this winter, please check out Sparky Imeson’s  book : The Mountain Flying Bible (Revised edition), available at Cobalt Aviation. It is a life-saver. Short of having him actually in the plane with you to tell you what to do in a “tight,” the book is your next best bet!

If you are not going to be a pilot –in- command flying into the mountains, perhaps you can call COBALT AVIATION  @ 604-465-3328 and book a sight- seeing flight and leave the flying to us while you enjoy the breathtaking views of our coastal mountains ( in that plane that we flew in from Gimli)!

Making a final approach into Runway 34, Penticton

So, if you’re reading this, it means you’re following my column, which is a good thing. And an even better thing is that we are alive and enjoying these never ending days of Summer here in the West Coast. It’s been a sad week for me though.  My favour-ite TV naturalist, Steve Irwin, D’ Crocodile Hunter is dead… doing what he loved…CRIKEY!  It got me to thinking about life and death and the meaning of life ( call me philosophical). I know we tend to avoid talking about such matters in relation to flying, but death is a fact of life … kind of an oxymoron. Nevertheless, we should aim to arrive late at the Pearly Gate, always!! Talking about life and death I suppose would be a good place for me to establish a point of entry for my approach to this article this week (that’s sort of a flying metaphor). Pilots like to talk of “fix”, “entry” and “approach” coz it gives them a buzz and a high when ever they talk “LANDINGS.  In Aviation we have a saying: “Taking off is optional, but landing is Mandatory”!!  Landing is crucial, but so  are   all phases of a flight. A good pilot knows that.

Indeed most aviation mishaps occur on landings. Hangar talks involve a lot of “landings” talk… and with that  some braggadocio!!  Some pilots like to think they make the best, softest “touchdowns”!!  kinda like the fishing stories  you  hear!! The big one always got away!!  (Joking aside, arrogance and ignorance have no place in flying).  To stay alive in our sport requires that we stay current with our knowl-edge, and are constantly vigilant about our limitations and the limita-tions of our equipment and aircraft. We need to fly within our abilities and practice situational awareness at all times. Over-confidence kills, while recognizing your skills thrills!!  Especially if you like doing “upper air works”, as in aerobatics.  In our discipline, we can truly say that “a little knowledge is a dangerous thing”.  And “knowledge is power”.

Last week, I said I would let you know this week  the reasons why I am  “so altruistic” as to have you knock on my flight school door to ask me  for a “free flight” if and when you cannot afford to pay  me  with our colorful “CHIA-PEE” (that is Chinese for Canadian money)!! .. No, not “Chia-pet” but you can use that as a marker to remember “Chia-Pee” (off topic there, eh ?) … So, here are the rea-sons…..(as to why I’m altruistic)…  I believe that if you have a pas-sion, you must share it.  I also believe that if you have something that you can afford to share with others,  then you need to share that.  The old cliché that says, “You can’t take it with you” is a truism.  I also believe that we are not here for a long time… so, I believe that  in the short time we are here on this wonderful planet, we need to do what we love as much as we love it and to share  that. …and like the song says, “Have a good time…”!  It brings on good Karma too.   I love to fly and I fly to get more experience everyday so I can keep myself safer.  The more I fly, the more skills I acquire.  Don’t get me wrong. Flying is NOT a dangerous sport. It is safer than a lot of other sports and activities. BUT it requires commitment, dedication to learn, flight training and skills honed by practicing your skills with good instruc-tors (hence the number of great  flight schools around Pitt Meadows airport). Aviation insurance statistics have shown that the more “time” a pilot has in his logbook, the safer he/she is behind the controls…. And so, in deductive reasoning… it means the more I fly myself and you around, the safer I get and the longer I get to stay alive. Heck, my Philosophy Professor at SFU might defy my reasoning, but, it works for me, and like my aircraft mechanic used to say, if it works, don’t change it!! 

You see, my Cessna 172 model has three passenger seats. It does not cost me more if I fly myself solo or add on another passenger or two. In flying you I might also get to peak your interest in flying yourself, and hopefully you will say you want to learn to fly as well…  AHA!!….at which point I say, “Hey, GREAT!! Why don’t you give COBALT AVIATION a jingle and talk to that handsome CFI, ( that would be Chief Flight Instructor, in the aviation lingo) Jamie Ursulak, and say Erissa sent you !! (hmmm, that’s real smooth and subtle, eh)?? LOL. 

Check out our www.cobaltaviation.com site to feel the thrill of  our passion. We have a great Photo gallery.  My invitation is open.  Call me to fly as a friend, gratis. In the past week, I have flown 7 friends who have never been in a small aircraft… to the San Juan Islands, to Victoria, to circle Golden Ears Mtn. and to the Downtown core.  The joy I get from their thrill is what the MC commercial calls:  price-less !!   ( Call me altruistic? Uh uh )!! Oh, oh, (Call me mono-syllabic instead!!)… I‘m running out of space again……And I haven’t even touched on the subject of how you can “GO FLYING” for “almost free” 4 other ways. Oh well, I’ll try to tell you in the next issue of this awesome rag!! Until then, this is Erissa saying Adios again. And keep your self, your love, and your dreams alive!!   Blue sky and safe flying to all pilots and soon to be pilots.