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Flying With Faber: New (and Some Old) Discoveries
By Stuart J. Faber
The more I travel, the more travel I crave. The more I fly, the more flying I crave. If this is an addiction, I plead guilty. Rehab is not an option. I recall a trip from the East Coast back to my home base in Burbank, California. I flew my Centurion from Greensboro, North Carolina against some persistent headwinds and touched down at home about a half day after I started. In retrospect, I could have exercised better judgment. Exhausted, I stepped out of my airplane and headed for the couch in the FBOs office. I thought I’d take a nap before driving home. I should have tied down way back at Tucumcari, New Mexico. As I headed toward the office, a friend approached me with his recently acquired Stearman.
“Want to go for a ride,” he asked? A few feet from the FBO, I executed a 180 and climbed into his plane. Only another pilot would understand my decision.
Today, many years later, still an inveterate traveler, I exercise better judgment and hopefully, possess greater wisdom. I won’t get into my airplane unless I’m fully rested and free of recent consumption of geezer-like aches and pains. I avoid countries and neighborhoods where I might end up as a hostage or a crime victim. I’m careful that the food I consume does not contain organisms not listed on the menu.
Flying With Faber - June 2012
New Discoveries Along the California Coast
By Stuart J. Faber
This past California winter, assuming there is such a season in this state, produced an amount of rain sufficient to yield an unprecedented abundance of greenery. I can hardly remember a spring wherein the coastal meadows and forests were so richly green.
On most occasions when I fly to the Bay Area, I take the shortest route-which is through the San Joaquin Valley. However, in the spring, especially when the greenery is so prolific, there are few better pastimes than to crank up the airplane, climb above the cement forests of the Los Angeles Basin and head up north along the coast. The scenic benefits are twofold. To my left is the Pacific Ocean. The coastline changes back and forth from wide beaches to rocky shores. To my right are vineyards and rolling hills of green pastureland. I stop along the way to visit some of my favorite haunts. On a recent trip, I made several new discoveries. Let’s head north up the coast and share these treasures.