My First Solo Flight --I'm an Aviator; I Aviate!

On Tuesday, Nov 6, after spending a month or so learning how to drive my little plane on the ground I finally got the tail in the air on the taxiway and very unsteadily hopped up a few feet, then landed.

It might seem insignificant to some but for me it was the Big Event. The next day I more boldly spent an hour taking longer, higher hops down the 3000 foot grass runway, then taxiing back with the tail up to do it again.

When the weather clears I’ll probably fly in the traffic pattern and do touch and goes. Dooney and STevo were going to visit this weekend but STevo had a very busy week, so needs to recuperate. I bet you’re glad you’re not a real doctor like him–it’s impossible to put your healing hands on a lot of sick folks and not be affected by them, after all. When they come over next weekend (grid willing) I’ll ask Dooney to film me flying for the record.

Darrell, our flight instructor, gets a kick out of telling folks how wildly enthusiastic I was at the controls when I started with him early in the summer. It’s pretty funny, actually. That Cessna is a lot easier to fly than my little taildragger, though, so I’ve done right by familiarizing myself with the smaller plane gradually. It’s so easy to end up in a heap on the ground, after all. I’ve been losing sleep worrying about my lack of experience so I should probably just get up in the air and get it done. I’ve got enough training, after all. Maybe today before Dooney’s chat if it stops raining.

On account of the felonious feds, I’m not going to venture far from the aerodrome until I’ve installed a ballistic parachute behind the seat in Madam Carol, which is what the plane has been named. I probably won’t fly much below 500 feet, either, unless there’s a place to land very nearby. The chutes deploy and will get your plane down safely at around 300’ altitude.

I found this site yesterday and sort of wish I’d found it before I built this plane, though mine can carry a lot more orgonite, also camping gear and extra fuel:

As you can see, you can probably afford to build and fly this one. I hope you will! I might build a tandem-wing, twin engine version of this in order to carry a lot of weight and some passengers, though Carol would have to drive in the latter case. She’s a better pilot, by the way.

My Skyraider ultralight also goes on a trailer (I brought it home on the trailer) and the wings fold back in a couple of minutes, so I can get to the gifting hotspots without having to fly all the way there. Carol and I are discussing building another Zapporium, this time on a six cylinder Toyota pickup or flatbed, so we can haul plane or our smaller boats over the road to exotic gifting locations

Congratulations Don!
I know this is a dream come through/true and I am very happy for you.


Thumbs up. mate!

I knew you could do it.


Hi Don,

The very first ‘Etheric Airforce’ in the making? Hehehe congratulations Don!

(Harideran Sivagnanam)

Thanks, partners!

I got bolder the next day and hopped down the 3,000 foot runway, sometimes jumping up about 40 feet. It was pretty exhilarating and I had fun manipulating throttle and stick to land more or less smoothly! There was some turbulance that day and my wings got knocked askew a few times, especially at the other end of the runway where the trees are close to each side.

I dragged my feet asking Roger, a neighbor who is a flight instructor, to give me lessons in his Piper Vagabond, which is a two-seater that also has a tailwheel (a gorgeous old plane that he restored) because 1) I’m too independent and 2) it’s been hard to reach him on the phone.

I felt emboldened to get off the ground because I’d finally become proficient at ‘fast taxiing,’ that is, driving the plane on the ground fast enough for the tail section to raise up (around 20 mph in my case). The plane takes off at 25 mph.

A few weeks ago, when I was still kind of unsteady on the ground, I taxied over to Roger’s hangar to show him my plane and he was pleased to take it for a spin up and down the runway, lifting off and holding it about ten feet up. He’s got a SkyRaider, too, by the way, which he built several years ago. He’s got a bunch of planes, in fact, and that little hangar kind of reminds me of Dr Who’s Tardis because from teh outside it looks like it shouldn’t have that much space inside [Image Can Not Be Found];

I’ve been plagued by insomnia for a couple of weeks, anxious about whether I have the ability to fly this plane. I felt a need to push the envelope a bit so I could finally get some rest and it’s been working.

I took lessons all summer in a Cessna 172, which is relatively easy to take off and land. It’s a lot heavier and faster, too. Carol’s lessons are progressing, by the way, in that plane and she’s a more skillful pilot than I am. She’s ready to solo as soon as she passes the little written exam. She’s not interested in flying tail-dragger planes for now, though.

After a couple more nights of getting up way too early, I went for another spin right after the chat session on Sunday. It had been raining, hard, and the big cloudbuster in our yard apparently poked a blue hole in that, so off I went. Being kind of ignorant of what constitutes friendly flying conditions, I took off a couple of times from our end of the runway and tried my best to keep it steady at about 20 feet altitude. I was being blown around like a piece of tissue and a couple of neighbors across the runway gesticulated at me angrily, so I landed at the other end of the runway and taxied home.

The two neighbors drove over and told me I was foolish to try to fly that light plane that day and that I should have noticed that nobody else was flying. When they left, my telepathic mate said, ‘They’re afraid that your recklessness will bring the FAA (flying federal sewer rats) to the little airfield to make trouble for everyone else.’ Did you know that the FAA’s motto is, ‘We’re not happy until you’re not happy?’

I sincerely thanked them and promised to get some sense, also some lessons from Roger before flying my own plane again, so I set that up on Tuesday with him. AFter chewing me out on the phone (he had seen the display, too), Roger told me that I have a lot of finesse at handling the plane, at least, because I really would have crashed that day, if not [Image Can Not Be Found];

When we got our Zodiac boat with the big motor, a couple of years ago, poor Carol and Jeff were treated to a distraughtening experience the first time I drove the new vessel out into the ocean from Jupiter’s harbor. I’d become proficient with sailboats, even in ocean crossings, but hadn’t ever driven a powerful motor boat on the sea.

The waves were quite big and steep in the shallow inlet and I was going way too fast, so near the end of the jetties I immediately went airborne, almost vertically, with the two of them hanging on with four feet on the passenger bench. If the wind had been stronger, we might have gone right over backward. Thanks, Operators! It was several months before Carol had the confidence to be my passenger and during that time Jeff kindly consented to drive the boat on our sea-gifting sorties.

I got pretty good at keeping everyone dry and safe in rough seas, after that, and I never damaged the boat so I"m pretty sure that I’ll soon be confidently flying touch and goes around our airfield, now that my arguably foolish self-initiation has been done. To keep peace with the genuinely concerned neighbors, I"ll keep taking lessons from Roger until he says I"m ready to go out in my plane on my own. I think I’m lucky that he even agreed to teach me <!-- sCool --><img src=“……&quot; alt=”Cool" title=“Cool” /><!-- sCool -->


So why don’t ya sell that little beauty and use the money as a down-payment on
a nice used Cessna 172? Boy, would I feel beter with you guys in a real airplane.
You can go a hella-lot further, too. The 172 is a four-passenger, no? I’d have had
my license a long time ago but for my inner-ear crap making medical certification

I have e friend in Florida that flies a 180 Comanche. It’s fast. He flies like a nut,
I wonder if he’s still alive. He was flying me over the Everglades at about 1,000
feet and he goes into a real tight, highly-banked circle. I hear this screaming
alarm, I ask what’s that and he says, “Oh, that’s just the stall-indicator, don’t
worry about it” as he leveled-off just before hitting the swamp.

Andy, Carol’s working at getting her pilot license so she can get a bigger plane to carry our fellow gifters, also so we can travel without having to run the Airport Gestapo Gauntlet. We’re looking for a Cessna 182, which can carry a lot, can be flown across oceans and is very reliable.

The reason I like my little toy plane is that I hope to demonstrate that ultralights are actually affordable for most gifters.

I posted the site as an even better example and I intend to build one of those, too, and install a Volkswagen 1/2 motor in order to get a Joe Cell running it. That plane has similar specs to my Skyraider.

Here’s something STevo found–an affordable motor unit to put on any hang glider that will get you to mountain top arrays or islands in a hurry with very little fuel:

Look at their ‘Doodlebug’ information and there are some other good examples of mostly-affordable ultralights on the site. It takes very little instruction to get proficient at ultralights, by the way, and the instruction is cheaper by the hour than regular flight instruction, though you might need to travel to where this is done. Carol and I wish to get hang gliders this spring and then get the doodlebug motor setups so we can have portable aircraft, even suitable to take on a sailboat overseas.


Here’s the specific Doodlebug URL:

And here’s the ordering page, including distributors’ email addresses in various countries:

At five $grand or so it’s a pretty big chunk, on top of $3 grand or so for a hang glider but that’s less than most people pay for their car, after all, and one could eat BeanieWeenies for awhile after spending credit card money on this—not a bad trade off.

Still a whole lot cheaper and quicker than flight training and airplane rental, of course.


Thanks for all that info, Don!

It’s occured to me that we don’t get to play it safe if we’re
going to make much difference. That’s why I’m not hiding
who I am in my tower and dolphin gifting videos! I’m proud
of what I’m doing and I can be as “in your face” as the goddamn
government/Vryal/ ET creeps. If we lose a warrior or two
while gifting, they will be forever remembered for their sacrifices.
If I get gulaged for my videos, my mission was accomplished.
I’ve had over 2,000 views already.

So, while it’s nice to have a nice Cessna (flew in one) the lesser aircraft
will do the job and represent the intense will of these people to help
their fellow man against these predator-controllers.

I can’t help but notice that the more we gift and up our various
efforts against them, the weaker they get and the more PJ folks are hearing us
and seeing reality.



That’s the spirit, Andy!

Carol and I desperately want all of us to remain safe, as you probably do, too. Last week someone emailed me to say that a good friend and associate of ours, whom we haven’t heard from since last spring, is on his deathbed. Carol nor Dooney could get any impressions of distress from this fellow but I called his sister several times, finally getting a call back and she said, ‘No–he’s just fine; just wants to stay under the radar for now!’ so we were very happy that it was just a silly rumor. We were ready to fly there and try to persuade him to come back with us so that we could work on healing him, along with Dr Stevo’s highly skilled efforts.

When one or another prodigious gifter foolishly refuses to acknowledge being attacked by the sewer rat agencies in reprisal for their dark masters’ losing billions of dollars worth of weaponry to cleverly tossed orgonite I’m less inclined to feel sympathetic, which may seem like a strange thing to say, but we’ve found it prudent not to try to bust down the door of denial when well-meaning folks slam it in our faces.

Doing a lot of effective gifting without taking steps to protect oneself is sort of like taking a walk in Antarctica without wearing any pants. What should you expect to happen in either case? Do you really want to be a martyr for this? I sure don’t want to be one for this and I hope to God you won’t casually toss your own life away by letting these baby-killing, quasi-governmental gangsters have their way with you.

Today I finally flew around in the sky for the first time and I was starkly terrified [Image Can Not Be Found]; . Sure, November Six was my first solo flight but I didn’t go very high, then or the next day.

Since my previous jumps down the runway, a month or so ago, I took four lessons in my neighbor, Roger’s, lovely 1946 Piper Vagabond, which flies sort of like my little plane does, then earned his blessing to go flying on my own.

Tail draggers are harder to take off and land than planes with nose wheels are, as I probably mentioned before, and flying with a joystick isn’t much like flying with a yoke, which is sort of like a steering wheel, except that it doesn’t steer on the ground–rudder pedals and brakes do that.

Added to that, little planes like mine fly a lot slower and take off at very low speeds–about 25 mph in my case–so the control responses are a little slower than in a faster plane. This is going to take some getting used to, after about 25 hours of instruction in bigger, faster planes.

It seemed to take forever to fly the pattern around our airfield but after I’m not terrified of being alone in the sky any more it will probably seem a little quicker. Mixed in with my terror, of course, was a very fun adrenaline rush and a sense of supreme accomplishment , as though I’d broken through a very intimidating barrier.

Roger has agreed to give me some coaching from the ground via radio and I’ve purchased a good portable radio and headset… In order not to interfere with traffic channels we’re going to use 234.5mH–cute [Image Can Not Be Found]

I’d have done this sooner but there’s been a lot of snow in the past month. The field has been plowed twice, in fact, and today there was snow and ice covering the field–sun was shining and it was in the mid 20s, Fahrenheit. Barometer was high, so there was very little wind. The wind was from the south and I’d promised Roger that I would only do this if there was no wind or if there was a south breeze. He advised this because south of the field are plenty of emergency landing spots but north of the field is all pine forest. One takes off into the wind, of course.

I followed some other good Roger advice and put an electric blanket over the engine cowling for a couple of hours and I was extremely pleased that the motor started on the first pull, this time. After pushing the plane out of the hangar and unfolding the wings I did my pre-flight check, started the motor and taxied to the north end of the airstrip.

Pushing the throttle to top RPM, which is 5500 with my little German 2-cycle motor, I first took off, without flaps extended, and flew the length of the field at around 50 feet altitude, landed and taxied back to the north end. It was kind of fun doing that on the icy patches and in the snow I pulled the joystick back to help the tail wheel dig in for better steering.

My little Skyraider takes off in about a hundred feet of runway and by the time I reached the south end of the field I was already around 400 feet up. The field is 3,000 feet long. I’ve gotten used to faster planes, though, and I turned left while continuing to climb, then leveled off at 5 or 6 hundred feet. I flew over Roger’s house but didn’t see him. Nor did any other neighbors come out and gesticulate at me, like some did the second first time I flew down the runway a month or so ago, on a day that was too windy for anyone to fly, I found out

One reason I wanted Roger’s blessing is because I don’t want anyone around here to feel like my foolishness would bring the feds down on everyone else. Like any other sewer rat agency, once the FAA gets their hooks in anyone they won’t let go and they have so many rules that everyone who steps into an airplane is likely to be breaking any number of alleged laws. It‘s an admirable scam, if one is inclined to admire confidence games. I’m tickled that just about every pilot detests and resents this unlawful federal agency. Things would run a lot more smoothly if government removed it’s bulbous, rosaceous nose from private and commercial aviation, of course. There are better ways to create and maintain standards, after all. I think secession will fix the FAA’s wagon in a heartbeat. On a brighter note: because the feds have destroyed the air travel industry with their terrorism there just aren’t as many payrolled FAA thugs throwing their weight around at airports.

I lowered the nose and slip-turned back toward the runway right at the north end so that I would land in the middle somewhere. I was just too nervous to fly over that forest, even though that would have been the smarter move. I could have taken more time to line up my approach, in that case. A skilled pilot, which is what I hope to be by spring, works out all the kinks on the final approach, some distance from the end of the runway and high enough not to need to add power before landing. My brain knew all that buy my terrified body was a step or two behind, of course.

I dropped out of the sky, right over the field, like an avenging angel, instead of sedately approaching the end of the runway from above the forest.

Flaps were slightly extended and I kept the throttle open a bit when I ungraciously flared out, ten feet or so above the ground. I landed with a little bounce and when I had slowed enough to turn around a gentle gust caught me while I was on a big patch of ice and pushed the plane gently into a snow bank, halfway through my turn.

I was sitting in the middle of the runway’s length, where the trees are closest on either side. There was a crosswind, and the wind does very odd things in that spot. While taking off, I was careful to get up well before I reached that area because in my previous folly I was blown around like a leaf, there, which is what sort of terrified several onlookers in the first place.

I left the engine idling, climbed out of the cockpit and lifted the tail around enough to point it north. Since I was on ice, the plane started moving away on its own, so I just hung onto the tail until we got past the ice and into the snow, where the tail wheel acted like a brake.

I’d had enough terror for a Friday afternoon, so I put the plane back to bed, then.

I hope to do it again tomorrow if conditions are favorable. It’s supposed to snow a lot but the barometer is still slowly climbing (it’s after midnight and I’m too jacked up to sleep) so maybe I’ll have a chance in the morning, at least.

I stayed comfortably warm in the cockpit and the mittens worked well, even though my left hand was in the doorway, where the throttle is. When you fly, except when cruising, one hand stays on the throttle.
I really prefer the joystick to the steering harness, by the way. I used my shoulder belts for the first time, after finally realizing that these are in the plane in case of a crash.

A lot of people have emailed to ask for a progress report, so here it is. Flying is kind of difficult to learn and when you’re in the air there are seemingly countless important things to keep track of, even with an ultralight. It takes lots and lots and lots of hours for all this to become second nature but flying is addictive for some, including me.

The funny thing is that I doubt I’d attempt this if I didn’t feel a need to get to the otherwise inaccessible gifting targets, even though I’ve literally dreamt of flight since I was a toddler, when my father’s fighter jet was shot down over North Korea.

I was sort of joking about the Unorganized Etheric Air Force (UEAF, as opposed to the smarmy, ruinous
USAF) but I was also serious and today, after conquering all that fear, I asked Carol to help me design a suitable logo. I’m hoping that in another five years there will be lots of aircraft, perhaps even a cargo plane or two, in this air force. Georg and I have a standing arrangement to gift the Sahara from east and west, each with our own international teams, including psychics and political expediters <!-- sCool --><img src=“……&quot; alt=”Cool" title=“Cool” /><!-- sCool -->

The trickiest part of a plan like that is to keep the moles out, of course.

Carol was hoping that I’d wait to solo until the plane’s parachute shows up in January but I knew that the longer I delayed this, the more fear I’d have to contend with. Maybe the federal $#!+birds (psi corpse) were jacking up my irrational emotional state today, before the flight. I felt like I was going into battle but I also recognized that the fear wasn’t grounded, since I’d done enough preparation, after all.


Sahara arrangement confirmed. But before we invest in Cargo planes it would be nice to convince someone like Muammar al Gaddhafi to let us do it with his good old MIG-Helicopters.
I had 16 flying lessons in a Cessna 176 a few years ago. Unfortunately chickened out when it came to first solo flight. But also ran out of money for the expensive lessons.

Sure, Qaddafi might enjoy sticking a finger in the world odor’s eye, this way

I’ve wondered whether modified cloudbusters can be dropped like bombs from a fairly low altitude every hundred miles or so, perhaps along ley lines in the desert. Most of them wouldn’t be found until people started repopulating the desert, after all, and in that case it wouldn’t be a desert any more and the jet stream would be bringing in plenty of moisture, as before.

Airplanes have better range than choppers are are generally more reliable, also require less ground support. By the time this is feasible there will be investors behind it, I’m sure, and that might imply some political expediting. Those governments are real bears to deal with, otherwise.

I like the competitive aspect–very healthy in this case and everyone wins, of course: two sponsored teams working from west and east, perhaps.

I empathize with your fear of soloing, G! Carol’s dealing with that by taking more lessons than she needs to. Her aviation ‘mentor,’ who is her acupuncturist, took 80 hours of lessons before she felt ready to solo and by now she’s a stunt pilot with plenty of confidence. On her first solo attempt, after only 20 nyhours of instruction, she entered a spin at 800’ above the ground and only recovered when the landing gear of the plane was hitting sage brush. She wasn’t really ready, in other words.

I took 25 hours or so before I did it, including four hours in Roger’s tail dragger and I left the field by myself only after he reckoned that I was ready…

Yesterday, I went up the second time and I was only mildly terrified, this time [Image Can Not Be Found]

I’d probably be even less temorous if I’d remembered to buckle the seatbelt and shoulder harness after starting the motor but I flew twice as long, this time, and actually paid attention to the gauges. Now I know that the airspeed indicator is working. It wasn’t working when I was just taxiing and I was too terrorized on my first flight to even glance at the airspeed indicator. I was semi-paralyzed, I think…

Maestro Roger took off ahead of me with a student. I had the impression he was watching over me because when I came in to land he flew across the field, right overhead. On the phone, later, he told me that he just happened to be there, though. He congratulated me.

Do you know what a good landing is? It’s one you can walk away from. A great landing is one that lets you use the airplane again. My landings have been great [Image Can Not Be Found]

When I was in shallow banking turns yesterday I felt uncomfortable because the plane flies so slow that I could easily have fallen out. Next time, I’ll remember to strap in before takeoff.

I can’t wait to get up there again and to explore various maneuvers and landing techniques! Carol says that after a few more times she’ll come out to watch–she has to get past her own terror of my demise [Image Can Not Be Found]

When I get all the necessary hardware bits, Roger will coach me via radio from the ground. I’m waiting for a ‘push to speak’ button for the radio that I can attach to my finger. The plane’s parachute will be here in a couple of weeks and I can then start doing a little cross country (gifting) flying to nearby mountaintop HAARP and weatherball targets. After each gifting sortie over the past six years, they added more and more stuff to these arrays. I bet they’ll run out of money before we do [Image Can Not Be Found];

Today, I’ve put the plane in the shop and will tweak up the carburetor to run rich, then when it gets warm in the spring I’ll adjust it back again. In winter, air is thicker so more fuel needs to enter the cylinders, otherwise the engine runs too hot (they call that fuel/air mix, ‘too lean’). These Rotax motors will run a long time if they’re treated right, so a pilot needs to pay close attention to temperature gauges. The Rotax 447, which is what is on my plane, is also called ‘the Bombardier,’ by the manufacturer. That’s destiny!

I really, really want to build the affodaplane and put a VW half motor with Joe Cell on it!

Georg, if you’ll take some ultralight lessons and solo I’ll let you fly the Madam Carol when you come visit. Would be terrific if we have another ultralight then, too.

We’re buying a couple of hang gliders next month to get ready to add a Doodlebug by summer. One needs to get proficient with hang gliding before adding the motor. On a warm or hot day, one can launch a hang glider with a car or motor scooter and ride thermals to mountain tops for gifting. A quick-release on the tow line is engaged after one gets to a certain altitude–a hundred feet? A fellow who does a lot of hang gliding told me that there’s a thermal under every cumulus cloud, so just aim for those shadows. He’s gone up to 200 miles in a single flight and has reached 12,500 feet altitude.

I want to have several options for expeditiously busting up these mountain top deathray arrays in our travels and hang gliders are the most portable. Hang gliding was Carol’s idea, actually, so we’ll take the lessons together.


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