Flying High
I likely would not have become a pilot if I didn’t live in Truckee. Like many things we do in our natural mountainous setting — as you discover when backcountry skiing, biking, hiking, or exploring — flying a small, old airplane has some challenges.
When you take off in an old plane, there’s always some uncertainty. If you fly solo, which means alone, you have to solve problems on your own. What-ifs are part of the experience we choose to have.
I earned my private pilot certificate at Truckee Tahoe Airport (KTRK) in 1990, at age 42. In 1997 my husband Tom and I bought our first airplane, a 1946 Cessna 140,
a silver, two-seater, single-engine, tailwheel plane.
Because my flight training happened here in Truckee, I learned the limitations of flying in an old airplane, taking off at 5,901 feet elevation and climbing another thousand feet, or more, to clear the surrounding mountains around us, which wasn’t always easy.
In July 2002, Tom, who became a pilot at age 54, and I decided to fly to Stowe, Vermont, where we had friends. We had also skied there when Tom had a photo assignment for SKI magazine.
The flight required many airport stops along the way (17 in total) for fuel, food, and overnight stays. Pilots are required to keep logbooks of every takeoff and landing, so I have the proof. There was, and are now, over 5,000 public use airports in the U.S.
If you hike or climb in the Sierra, you know the magnificent views from up there, near or on the peaks. Flying over our beautiful area in a small plane is like that, giving us an even greater appreciation for where we live and why.
On our way to Vermont we encountered weather issues such as wind, clouds, rain, or approaching storms that meant we needed to land and wait them out. At small, remote airports, with no indoor option, there often wasn’t a way to get into town, so we just sat outside. Inevitably, someone driving by would spot us and take us into town, or, sometimes, even to their own home. I remember once being driven to a lovely house on a beautiful nearby lake.
With every landing at some remote airport, through people’s kindness, it didn’t matter who they were, or what they believed, Tom and I felt they were our friends. Most people assumed that Tom was the pilot and I was the passenger. I never corrected them.
Reflecting on that trip to Vermont, and others, since moving to Truckee in 1977, I continue to be grateful to live in a community where people naturally connect with locals and strangers and love adventure.
I decided to become a flight instructor in 1998, at age 50; not to make money, but to become a better pilot. Also, as a freelance writer, published in skiing and travel magazines, I believed I could get more aviation writing assignments as a certified flight instructor.
For those of us who choose to take on challenges, it’s not unusual to say, “How am I going to do that?”
But I found a way and I did it, and as a CFI, I met Henry Levy, a pilot from Lodi who had a house in Northstar and an airplane hangared at KTRK. He asked me to fly him to Sun Valley, Idaho, in his Cessna 182, as he no longer had a medical certificate. I did that, and we became friends.
Henry later got divorced and moved to Truckee full-time. Tom and I enjoyed his company and high spirits, and Henry became a close friend. One day, he gifted Tom and me his Cessna 182 that he had bought brand-new in 1981.
The people whom Tom and I met over the years through flying remain special. With assignments from national flying magazines, Tom and I flew around the country, seeing beautiful places and meeting interesting folks.
I also interviewed pilots who were famous, including Arnold Palmer, Harrison Ford, Sarah Ferguson (the Dutchess of York), and Clint Eastwood. Like most who understand the risks of flying, these celebrities were humble and never bragged about being pilots. Just like we skiers know we shouldn’t brag about being “hot” as it can jinx our next run, the same goes for pilots.
I tell you this because many of us in Truckee have had experiences and adventures that we will never forget, and that affect who we are. In one of my ipilot.com articles, I wrote about being stuck in Newcastle, WY, due to a scary airplane issue. I closed the story, saying, “We know there are angels in the air. Stay open.”
Stay open. Share your stories while you can, and keep smiling.
