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| Somewhere over Arizona |
I love to fly. Absolutely love it. When I was a kid, my next door neighbor the fighter pilot used to take me flying occasionally in one of those little Cessna four-seaters. From the first time I went up, I was hooked. I never got a pilot's license as I promised myself I would, but I've always loved to fly. Big planes, little planes and in between planes, I just like being up there. So, that brings me to this morning....
I left San Diego on Halloween morning, and it was one of the most spectacular mornings I can ever remember. Seriously, not exaggerating. It was beautiful. Taking off from Lindbergh Field it was crystal clear skies. The Pacific was sparkling under the approving gaze of the morning sun, and the view south past the Coronado Islands was serene. We hooked back east and flew over the waking desert to our first stop in Las Vegas. A perfect landing, another beautiful takeoff and eastward we went. Somewhere about the Missouri/Illinois border it started clouding up and the pilot came on the intercom and let us know that we should stay in our seats, seat belts buckled, due to anticipated turbulence ahead. No problem as far as I'm concerned, turbulence doesn't bother me at all. My fighter pilot buddy taught me that air is like water; sometimes the water is smooth and sometimes it's choppy, but either way the boat doesn't sink and the airplane doesn't fall out of the sky. Just sometimes it's a little bumpier than others. So, we keep cruising on our way and yeah, it's getting bumpy. Not horrible, but pretty damn bumpy. Then, we cross into Michigan and the real fun starts.
As the sun is setting behind us, we start our descent into Detroit (did I mention I was going to Detroit?) and the clouds are waiting for us. If you've flown much you know that you can be flying through the smoothest air you want, but as soon as you enter clouds it gets rough. Well, we entered the clouds and it got REAL rough. Now, believe it or not, I'm still not nervous. Okay, maybe a little, but not much. I don't mind the bouncing around, but flying blind in the dark does tend to make me sweat a little. And the clouds were thick brother, as in zero visibility. Zee-row.
It's been a good fifteen minutes or so of flying in the clouds, and I'm sitting where I can see the trailing edge of the wing clearly. The flaps come down, not quite all the way, but enough to scrub a little speed. You can feel the plane slow as the engines whine a little louder. Usually in another minute or two they drop the rest of the way and then we're thirty seconds or so from touchdown, right...? Right?? Wrong.
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| Hell waits below |
We fly in this attitude for a good ten minutes. I am not making this up. I had turned my phone on in anticipation of landing (don't tell the FAA) so I could text my wife who was waiting to pick me up, so I had a clock to watch. I'm still reasonably calm at this point. The flaps drop all the way down. Whew!! We gotta be close now. Any second we're gonna pop out of these clouds with a few thousand feet of cushion and set this baby down. The only thing is, we don't pop out of the clouds. We keep descending, the plane is bucking and bouncing like a drunk rodeo bull, and we ARE slowing down, but I am seeing nothing out the window. That's not entirely true. I am seeing swirling clouds and rain. LOTS of swirling clouds and rain. It feels like the plane is down to walking speed, we've been in final descent, according to the captain, for a good twenty minutes, you can't see shit out the window and I am starting to quietly freak a little. You could feel everyone in the plane breathing in and out together, just waiting for Norman Bates to yank that shower curtain back. It was deathly quiet except for the whine of the engines, the buffeting of the wind and that one asswipe that's on every plane you've ever been on that won't shut the fuck up about his dog Scooter or whatever. Need I say it was a bit tense?
Then, right on cue, just as it seems everyone on the plane is going to start speaking in tongues simultaneously, we break out under the clouds, and GOOD GOD WE'RE 200 FEET OFF THE GROUND AND THERE AIN'T NO AIRPORT DOWN THERE! Everyone gasped in unison. You could hear the flight crew's assholes snap shut all the way in the back of the plane. At the last possible second, we flew over a highway at about Miata rooftop level and hit the runway. I was envisioning a deranged umpire emphatically crossing and uncrossing his straightened arms while yelling "SAFE!" as we bounced a couple of times and started rolling down the runway through the pouring rain. Fuck me runnin'...
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| A screenshot of the text I sent my wife upon landing. |
Now, the airline's version of this little adventure might be different than mine, I don't know. But I do know this. I have flown literally hundreds of times in my life and I have experienced some horrendous turbulence and lived through some very rough landings. Flying between Oahu and Kauai once I even saw a flight attendant bounce off the cabin ceiling, but I have never been on a plane where the entire cabin burst into spontaneous applause upon landing. You'd have thought Metallica just walked offstage or something. I was waiting for the lighters to go up. Everyone cheered, I quit holding my breath, Scooter's owner never shut up and all's well that ends well. Even the flight attendants were talking in hushed tones about the no visibility landing. There was a lot of grim faced nodding while holding eye contact going on in there. It was different, that's for sure.
And that's how I spent my Halloween night. It's supposed to be scary, right?
Anyway, I'm in Ann Arbor/Livonia/Van Buren Township (just outside Detroit) tonight and tomorrow, then the weekend is going to entail a border crossing and a quick visit to an iconic natural wonder. I don't want to say anything because it's not 100% in the bag yet, but it should be a good weekend. It's late, I haven't proof read this, so if there are a million typos/grammatical errors, I'll get 'em in the morning. Hope you enjoyed it.
'Til next time...
