On Wednesday I flew up to the mountain top array that adjoins the US Navy base under Lake Pend Oreille, near us. The last time we drove up to Sandpoint Carol said the array is spitting out dark energy, again. We assumed they’d built more death-dealing tech–enough to overcome the effects of all that orgonite–but when I flew over there I could see that nothing new was there. I won’t say that I dropped orgonite from the airplane, of course, becuase that’s against the FAA’s rules and I could get into trouble. Also, a neighbor who is a duplicitous parasite and wishes to stop my flying career is reading all my postings [Image Can Not Be Found] This fellow evidently arranged for someone else to call the FAA to complain that I flew over his house at treetop level. I’m actually afraid to fly that low. That guys’ house is close to the landing pattern but I never fly below 500’ unless I’m close to the end of the runway on my final approach. I never fly so low that I can’t glide to a safe landing. That’s usually impossible at treetop level, especially around our airfield because we’re surrounded by forest. My landings, by the way, are getting better and better, thanks finally to Tino’s timely advice.
People like those two busy guys are around just to keep us on our toes, of course. Better to have a little bit of trouble from these fools than a whole lot of trouble, later on, from really dangerous people, like FAA goons, lawyers, cops and judges. I’m more prudent, now, on account of those two.
It’s also against the rules to fly close to clouds without an instrument rating, so I won’t report that I did that on Thursday. I can say, though, that when one is in the clouds in an airliner it can be a yawn fest but when you’re in an open aircraft, travelling at low speed, those gargantuan creatures beckon you and getting close to them is almost like being in the presence of a unicorn [Image Can Not Be Found] but now I feel at home up there. In the beginning, I felt like I was trespassing.
I was only able to get up that high once before, last summer. The cloud base around here is usually at around 8,000 feet above sea level. The ‘aerodrome’ is 2445’, so that’s over a mile up to the cloud base and the air is a lot thinner, there, so carburetion is affected. On Wednesday’s jaunt to the mountaintop I tried gettting up to the clouds on the way home but the engine sputtered at 8,000 feet, so I gave up trying.
I got it in my head, the next day, to apply the choke and was then able to climb steadily up to over 10,000’ which was where the tops of many of the puffy cumulus clouds were. I could have gone a lot higher if it weren’t so cold up there. It was 74 degrees on the ground and you generally take three degrees off for every thousand feet above that. Next time I’ll just dress warmer.
Ever since I expressed my love to all of the mountain top death arrays around our valley, two years ago, there have been regular Sylph explosions in our sky. Right after my crash I was lying (okay, I was sulking) in my hammock and a Sylph showed up over me, right beside a little cumulus cloud. I can’t express how frustrated I was but some hope wss mixed in with that and it took me another year to get back in the air. That’s why I committed to eventually having several aircraft after that. I hate to be grounded.
Most Sylphs are in the stratosphere, I think–way above where I could fly. I will continue to explore my altitude limit, though, in case another Sylph shows up within my range. Carol said it’s probably okay for me to go meet one as long as I’m not rude.
It took a half hour to climb up to the clouds, which were over the mountains nearby, so I wasn’t breaking any FAA rules [Image Can Not Be Found] and about halfway up I shared a thermal with a seagull for awhile. I looked beneath me a few times, while banking more steeply, and he was still circling with me. When you get closer to the clouds there’s more lift in a thermal but only under the ‘upwind’ edge of the cloud. I saw cloud streets farther east, away from the mountains, when Carol and I drove home from the coast in April. I read that you can almost glide from beneath one cloud to the next one down the line, etc., and I hope to try that, this summer. I’m in a valley, so haven’t seen cloud streets here.
I thought it would be nice to post this light report after the heavier one about a possible false flag attack
~Don
