Columns of Air, Columns of Wind

It was the kind of day that reminds us why we endure 9 months of cold, drippy, gray skies. The kind of day where everything, even the people, have a bright glow. The leaves shimmer with the faintest tinge of gold and red. The sky is story-book blue and the air is the perfect temperature for shorts and T-shirsts. Not too hot, not too cool. The Willamette valley is so incredibly beautiful, you wonder how heaven could be any better.

Airplane people were gathered at Dietz Airpark that morning for the annual Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA) Chapter 105 Poker Run. Jenny Hickman was serving up breakfast and handing out the first card. I was disappointed to learn that Jenny would not be flying with us that day and I would miss her smiling face at the stops along the way, but selfishly, I was glad because she is such a great cook and so had time to bake cinnamon rolls and lay out our delicious breakfast spread, and would be putting together our BBQ dinner that night. After breakfast and a nice visit with the folks gathered, we bumpity-bump rolled down the Dietz grass strip and popped up in to the clear-blue-sky. WEEEE! I said, then added, don't run over the Cub in front of us.

Breakfast at Deitz Air Park

The poker run stops took us up and down the Willamette valley, to Lebanon, where dusty fields turn in to the dense, green foothills of the Cascades, then to Independence, all spread out flat in the middle of farmland. We popped over the Coast Range for a stop at Tillmooooo-k, and quick look at the air museum. I am astonished every time I see the hidden treasure trove of vintage aircraft there. Leaving Tillamook, we gained altitude over Nehalem, then flew up and over the rocky bluffs of Neakanie mountain, with its tree-less cliffs hanging out over the sea. Roy turned the plane on its wing so I could look straight down and the foamy, sparkly deep blue sea splashing up on the rocks. More WEEEE! We talked to Randall Henderson who was flying just off our port side, as we descended to Seaside for our lunch stop. The kind folks at Seaside Air-park put on a fantastic BBQ lunch for us. Finally, we went to Scappose, where bunched up hills slope down to the gray-blue Columbia river.

The last stop of the poker run was at Twin Oaks, where Chef Jenny was waiting with pulled pork and BBQ chicken dinner. I love that gal! I was standing in the dinner line, chatting with someone about my favorite topic – Sailboats (ha – I bet you thought I was going to say "Roy" or "Airplanes"), when Diane Van Grunsven, standing in line behind me said :"You have a sailboat? I've always wanted to go sailing. It sounds like so much fun!" So naturally, I invited her to go sailing with us the following day up on Orcas. Roy and I were surprised and delighted that she and Dick accepted our invitation.

Dick and Diane met us at the Eastsound airport on Orcas the following morning. And it was ANOTHER glorious day. The trees have a bit more color to them up there, and the air is crisper. It is also clearer, since the sky is free of dust from the harvest. The four of us piled in to the little 1984 Honda Civic we keep as an airport car, and went to the New Leaf cafe at the Outlook Inn for breakfast. It was not the same as Jenny's breakfast, but we couldn't complain (the food there is actually quite wonderful). After breakfast, we drove out to Deer Harbor where I fairly danced down the dock in anticipation of our day on the water.

Roy and I tossed off then lines, and in no time at all, we were away, heading out on sparkling water, my heart racing as we opened the sails to a perfect 10knt breeze. Dick accepted my invitation to take the helm. Gliders are his passion, and a sailboat is just a glider on end. It sits in two mediums, but the principles are the same. Dick has always struck me as a serious fellow. I have never heard any words to come out of his mouth that were not absolutely relevant and well thought out. I have also never seen him smile. I'm sure he does, and I think he has a sense of humor, I've just never seen it. At least, not until that day. I showed Dick how to sail by the tell-tales on the jib, and he understood immediately how they belied the flow of wind across the sail. He lined the tell-tails up, TQ heeled just slightly and dug her shoulder in (I imagine she smiles when this happens) and the GPS showed 7.5 knts SOG. WEEEE again, and Dick had a HUGE grin on his face. Diane was also smiling and I was so happy she was having a nice time for her first sailboat outing.

We sailed past little Fawn island, at the entrance to Deer Harbor, then headed south between San Juan Island, and Jone Island. As we came around the back side of Jones Island, we sailed in to a no-wind zone in the shadow of the island. The sails flapped and Roy offered that we could turn on the iron Genny and motor out of it. Dick waved his hand, "No, no, its fine, the wind is just out there and it'll be here soon," he said. He explained how the wind moves in columns across the water, and how it would come down off the north side of San Juan Island, off our port side, and slide across, then get pushed up by Jones island. We were in the area underneath, where the column was being pushed up. I knew, from my racing experience, how the wind moves across the water, and how it is effected by land masses, but had not thought about it quite like that. I asked about how gliders maintain forward momentum, and Dick explained about how they surf on vertical columns of air.

I recalled a morning earlier this spring when I was driving across the I-5 bridge and saw horizontal columns of wind slicing down the river, each making a distinct pattern of ripples, with calm strips in between, and I thought about how, when we are racing, we move from one of these slices to the next. I have seen these ripples on the water a million times, and called out "Lift!" to the helmsman, but listening to Dicks words, my head filled with sailboats, crisp white sails, and airplanes, I saw the columns as part of a greater pattern, part of a whole.

I pictured the columns of wind we flew on this summer from the valley to the sparkling water of the San Juan islands, where we sailed across glass and bounced in the waves past dolphins and sea lions. We flew all the way to Arkansas and Tennessee on a tailwind across mountains, and vertical columns of forest fires, and past thunderheads to the mid-west, to a lake that felt as large as an inland sea.The plane connected us to the water, and the water to the wind.

Watching Dick and Dianes smiling faces I saw a larger connection - the people we shared our experiences with. A slideshow of smiles passed through my head – Kitty swabbing the decks as we crossed the straights on TQ that spring, Carls determined look as he flew by our boat in his J-36, Jacob getting his first taste of sailing, Cute 10 year old Gabby sitting in the cockpit of the Roys plane, grinning ear to ear, Jenny's smiling face serving up cinnamon rolls, Sierra snuggled in the back of Tucks Stinson, The sunset in Katies eyes as we watched Orcas swim by, and so many more, too numerous to list, and each one a jewel. 

The airplane and the boat connected us to our our family and friends in a most amazing way. From the Willamette valley, to the San Juan islands, Arkansas and Tennessee, each person we met, every smile we shared gave us a lift and brought us joy. The airplane and the sailboat were the mechanism by which we traveled, but the people we shared the experiences with were what gave us momentum.Without the people, without their smiles and joy, in the plane or on the boat, we would always be in the shadow of the island, waiting for the breeze to blow. Dick and Diane - and all of our wonderful, amazing friends and our most precious family - Thank you all! Lets do it again next year!!

Some wonderful photos of the Willamette valley from the EAA 105 Poker Run:
http://www.vansairforce.com/community/showthread.php?t=91195