Here are copies of several messages I sent a friend some years ago ago when I was flying weekly from Bedford, MA to Pittsfield, MA.
Friday, 25 October 1991
... a nice flight. The sky over Bedford was clear (a big hole between clouds) and I climbed up past the level of a cloud bank to the west of me to 6500 feet. As I flew west, I flew over patches of clouds below me. The bases of the clouds were about 1500 feet above the ground and the tops between 2000 and 4500 feet. Sometimes the clouds were thin veils and I could see city lights through them. Other times the clouds were puffy but lit up from below, so they looked like glowing pillows. Very pretty. The clouds thinned out west of Worcester, except for thin layers over Quabbin Res. and the Berkshire Hills. I could see Pittsfield lights from 25 miles away. The air was smooth.
During the latter half of the flight, I turned down the lights in the cockpit so my eyes adjusted to the dark. I could make out the instruments by the light of the moon. You cannot do this in a car because the brightness of your head lights destroys your night vision. High cirrus clouds and stars very fine.
Friday, 1 November 1991
This evening's flight was as calming and restful as yesterdays was hectic and tiresome. And I saw northern lights from above the clouds!
The drive out to the airport in heavy traffic took some time, but I finally got there. I took off and almost immediately entered thick clouds that hung 500 feet above the ground. Slow moving but quite strong turbulence turned the airplane this way and that. Air traffic control asked me to keep my speed down during my climb since I had another aircraft in front of me three miles away going along the same route. I couldn't see anything at all. Suddenly, at 3500 feet, the air turned smooth. And unexpectedly, I broke out of the clouds at 4800 feet and could see stars above. There were the lights of the airplane ahead of me!
The flight westbound at 6000 feet was calm and smooth. West of Worcester, the clouds under me thinned in places and I could see city lights. The clouds were thicker over the Berkshires but still below me.
A little west of the Connecticut River, I saw some illuminated clouds ahead of me and to the north---but there are no cities their to light up clouds like that! Then the perceptions of the clouds transformed themselves into curtains of white light and I realized I was seeing the northern lights. No colors, but quite long sweeps of light. I turned down the lights in the cockpit and my eyes adapted. I almost regreted arriving at Pittsfield. Then I decended through a broken layer of clouds through holes in which I could see the city below me, and made an uneventful landing.
All and all, more inspiring and more calming that driving a car.
Tuesday, 31 December 1991
I wish you could have come along on today's flight. You would have enjoyed it.
From just over Bedford, I could see Mt Greylock, a hundred miles away and just a little north of Stockbridge. I could see the ski runs on Mt. Snow in Vermont. There was not a cloud in the sky. At 4500 feet, the air was smooth as silk; I felt like I was sitting in a rowboat in a lake in the morning, looking at sharp reflections in the water. The day took me and carried me away from my usual route and up to New Hampshire. I flew up to and around Mt. Monadnock---that is a mountain I would like to climb on foot, too. It has an open, rocky top and a wide view. From Mt. Monadnock, I flew past Keene, NH and Brattleboro, VT, over the Connecticut River to Mt. Greylock. The lakes were full of ice with a thin layer of snow on them. In one spot, the trees were all glazed with ice; otherwise, I could see snow on the ground, and old stone walls among the trees, from the fields of a hundred years ago. From over New Hampshire, I could see the Catskill Mts in New York; the lower Hudson valley was filled with fog and the Catskills looked like a peninsula standing out into and above an ocean of white. I flew down the Berkshires, around our house and then to Pittsfield. What a wonderful flight!
Friday, 31 January 1992
The flight went well. I got to the airport about 5:30pm. It was dark. The forecast was for surprisingly good weather up until midnight--mostly clear below 3 - 5,000 feet, with occasional snow flurries and scattered clouds. Amazingly, the forcast was accurate, too!
I took off from Bedford and flew west. I don't know whether I mentioned this before, but when the visibility is good, I look for the airport beacon for Minuteman Airport, a small airport on Rt 495 that is 10 miles west of Bedford; and also for the lights on the ski run on the north side of Wachusett Mountain, a bit further west. I could see both of them and flew so Minuteman Airport was on my left and Wachusett Mountain on my right. At 2700 feet it was smooth and clear. I could see Worcestor and Fitchburg and Lowell and ... Most evident were the cars on roads. For some reason, roads were really crowded tonight. Maybe I was flying exactly at rush hour; but I am sure I have flown at this time before. Anyhow Rt 495, Rt290 and other lessor roads were full of cars.
Out around Gardiner, MA, not quite half way to Pittsfield, I saw some snow flakes frozen in the flash of the strobe lights at the wingtips. Nonetheless, I could still see Springfield and Worcestor. Very light snow.
Over the Connecticut River, I saw some light clouds against darker sky ahead. So I climbed, to fly over them. Then the visual illusion revealed itself--what I took to be darker sky were clouds themselves! A foreground/background reversal! So I descended again and flew under them. There were scattered clouds at my altitude, 3,000 - 3,500 feet, over the Berkshire Hills that I had to fly around. I flew so that I could always see lights below, ahead of me and way behind me, so I could turn around, if necessary. If you can see a light, you can fly towards it. If you can see the lights of an airport, you can fly to it.... Then the sky cleared out and at one point I saw the stars. By then I was close to Pittsfield, and flew in. There were clouds over Pittsfield and they looked worse overhead.
Twice in the flight I gave what are called `pireps', "PIlots REPortS", of weather to a Flight Service Station. These are passed on to other pilots and are very useful. I always look for them, since they tell you what is really going on in the air.
Now I am home, expecting a somewhat snowy, but not very snowy, and cold day tomorrow.
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