Magic in the air
“Can you be ready to go flying around Lake County this morning?” I asked my neighbor, aka Edith.
Mind you I called her at 8:15 A.M. and we had to be at Lampson Field by 9:30 am.
“Oh my! I'm at work,” she said. “And I have a mammogram scheduled at 10AM.”
“Cancel it! Take a sick day!”
Edith said to give her a few minutes to make phone calls. In the meantime I got ready to go.
As I pulled into the parking area of Lampson Field, Edith was standing by her car. She beat me there!
Pilot Frank Dollosso of Lake Air Adventures (www.lakeairadventures. com) was waiting for us in the Pilot's Lounge.
Once introductions were made, Edith, pilot Frank and I went out to the plane, a 6-cylinder Cessna 172.
Both Edith and I could barely hold back our enthusiasm.
I had a slight problem getting up and into the plane. My thigh muscles rebelled and so I backed my way into the plane, bottom first. I wasn't going to let a little physical glitch stop me.
Buckled into our seats, Frank went over the checklist, revved the engine. We sped down the runway and up, up into the air. Seamlessly.
The view was gorgeous from the get-go. Green verdant fields and hills contrasted with the smooth blue Clear Lake, which seemed to go on forever. Frank must have read my mind when he said over our headphones, “Clear Lake has over 100 miles of coastline.”
Peering down at Lakeport, it looked spectacular and quite tidy with houses and docks along the shoreline. In the distance, the town of Clearlake looked sprawled out. Like a messy cousin.
I didn't see the town of Upper Lake because I was so focused on Upper Lake and Blue Lake and the white hoop greenhouses of cannabis grows that stuck out from the green hills.
Edith seemed to have GPS vision as she knew where we were constantly. I, on the other hand, was pretty clueless. Frank knew where we were at all moments and knew the history of it all. He banked over Mt. Konocti and the now defunct Fire Lookout, and banked again past where the volcano had last erupted 11,000 years ago; from the side rather than from the top.
We flew low over Manning Flat, Lake County's Grand Canyon, this gaping rip in the land, created by a farmer trying to change the topography to create more viable farmland. Fascinating and crazy.
From up high (our elevation went from 5001,500ft) hills and mountains in Lake County looked like someone had crumpled paper and spread it out, with levels and layers. Waterfalls. Hobbit-like. Shadows thrown deep into the ravines.
Fields of grapes vines made a patchwork in the distance. The islands and contours of the lake were breathtaking from above.
Cruising over Rodman Slough, I recognized the bridge that I've crossed many times but I was surprised at how extensive and how far inland the Slough went. Everything seemed so miniature. Made me want to grab a kayak and explore for the
next adventure.
Both Edith and I recognized our houses from the giant Mulberry tree landmark as Frank flew low over Lucerne.
Over the headphones, I could hear Edith's comments and exclamations. I swear the plane could have flown on its own just with her excitement and energy. She was a close second to Frank on her knowledge of Lake County.
Edith got a great photo out her window of the Cache Creek Dam and the creek running up to it. What a brilliant way to see where we live, with a great pilot in a small plane!
Who knew?
“I can't wait to do this again!” said Edith.
I agreed. “Flying over our county is just magic in the air.”
At some point Frank asked if I had flown a plane before. “Yes, I took some lessons decades ago,” I said. So he gave me the controls. I was flying by Buckingham. I tried to fly as smoothly as Frank did, watching the clear blue sky for other planes, keeping the plane level. I banked toward the shoreline, going for a closer look yet thinking I'd rather hand back the controls to our expert pilot so I could relax and take photos and quell that damn urge to do some aerobatics.
What was a girl to do?… I handed over the controls and looked out the window to enjoy the fabulous view.