After the Camp Fire, with 11,000 homes lost, I had a curiosity to see the epicenter, Paradise. Paradise is on the Sierra foothills in Northern California , about 1,500′ elevation.
It really is a bucolic little town, nestled among the pines, and was a favorite place to retire. Despite its 1,500′ elevation, it is only 20 miles or so from Chico, elevation 150′, a smaller city at the northern end of the Central Valley.
I called the California Highway Patrol in Chico, who assured me that all the roads to Paradise were open. With that knowledge, I headed up the highway to Paradise.
By lex, on September 8th, 2011
So: Your correspondent is nigh out the door and on his way to Ventura County, for to continue his ground training culminating in getting that bugger actually airborne, hopefully. With a full bag o’ gas and the ejection seat pins removed this time.
By lex, on May 22nd, 2010
Mad busy all the live-long day: Eldest daughter finishes her first year in Portland early in June, and she enthusiastically endorsed my but lightly considered trial balloon to come, pick her up and fly her home for the summer rather than spend a cuppla days fighting the freeways. How much much have you got, I asked, a-thinking about the Cardinal, and more specifically about weight and balance. Roughly 978 pounds gross weight being available to an empty airplane, but some nearly seven hundred pounds of that being taken up by your non-trivially burdensome correspondent, his really-ought-to-eat-more daughter and 60 odd gallons of 100 octane, low lead gasoline at six pounds to the gallon, give or take.
By Lex, on Fri – February 25, 2005
Herewith, a Musing cast as a travelogue:
It was a good trip up and back, and I’m glad I went – even if the idea didn’t give me shivers of anticipation earlier in the week. Southwest Airlines of course, because the price is right. Nothing but the best for our boys in blue, so long as it comes in at the lowest bid. Having to line up at the wrong end of cattle row “C” with all the rest of lés malheureuses was only the rubbed salt in the festering wound of the by-now accustomed indignities of 21st century air travel. One goof ball with bad hair gets caught trying to light a fuse in his Pro Keds and each day for the rest of eternity, millions of American citizens have to kick off their shoes in front of the unblinking, unsmiling, and (occasionally impertinent) shock troops of the TSA *. I am certain at this moment that nothing in this world is more tedious than dealing with a martinet with just that little bit of power.
By lex, on November 14th, 2009
Off to DCA, for to see a former subordinate of mine – and good young man – elevated to an Assistant Secretary of the Navy spot and all sworn in, like. A lesson in humility it shall be for me the former boss, although it cannot have hurt that hizzoner shared law school classes with Our Nation’s President.
Which be that as it might, comms will be intermittent over the next cuppla.
Talk amongst yourselves.
Update: In ATL for a two-hour layover. Yes, we have beer. I swear that the first officer on the flight from SAN to ATL must have been at least 55. I know that ATL is a senior base, but golly.
Plus, $50 to check two bags? Sheesh.
Back To The Index
By lex, on May 2nd, 2007
0500 wake-up for the bus to the ferry to Victoria, B.C. – You’ve got to be kidding me.
A morning tour of the Fleet Maintenance Facility Cape Breton – the old and the new! Moving towards bar coding for their inventory management. Came the question from the crowd: What about RFID? It’s all the thing for inventory control, etc.