CLICK HERE for backstory on The Monkey.
Flying… it’s definitely a drug. If I were to ever OD on something, I’d want it to be aviation.
I’ve been working ’round the clock the last few weeks. I’m passionate about what I do and am honored to play a key role in enhancing the safety of a national event. But it’s been exhausting. I’ve started to become a cranky bitch. More so than usual.
The Monkey, neglected and bored, was beginning to act out around the house… trashing the joint… slinging poop everywhere… drinking all my booze. The latter was unacceptable.
It was time for a fix. An aviation fix.
Since I’ve had The Monkey these last couple of months, I’ve gotten him down to an airport in Connecticut and one in Rhode Island. My goal is to get him to all of the New England states before passing him along, so this time I decided to head for Maine.
Maine is a beautiful state with so much to offer. It has, uh, snow. And, um…
Well, anyway, we threw together a quick flight plan to Portland, figuring that since it’s a city, kinda, it’ll at least have lights and maybe we’ll be able to see it to land.
First step before doing ANYTHING in New England is to hit a Dunkin Donuts. It’s actually a requirement for living up here. If they catch you going more than a couple of days without frequenting a DD establishment, you get deported to some place called “Ohio.”
First step before doing anything with The Monkey, on the other hand, is to – assuming one hasn’t already – go ahead and bring sexy back.
I can’t over-emphasize the importance of the above.
Once we got to the airport, the sun began to set. Made for a beautiful preflight. I was definitely excited to be getting back in the air.
The night couldn’t have been more perfect. Calm winds, clear skies and a quiet frequency.
And, as you can see, The Monkey actually maintained a pretty good attitude…
It was my first time flying into a Class C airport as Pilot-in-Command. I figured there’d be a lot of big planes trying to intimidate my little plane. Or that the tower guys/gals would be screaming at me for getting in their way or messing up their perfectly organized pattern.
I was ten miles out and admittedly nervous when I made my initial call. “Here goes the shitstorm,” I thought, bracing myself –
He was obviously enraged and just masking it well. I’ve never even gotten clearance to land at my own airport that far out before. Maybe his boss was looming over him. So, I decided to test the waters again, this time with a request to brighten up the airport for my arrival. Everyone loves a special snowflake.
What a jerk.
Anyway, we decided that since the coffee hadn’t hit our bladders too hard yet and we both knew there was whiskey waiting for us back home (you work up a thirst when you fly), we’d just do a quick stop and go, then head back.
I made a pretty sweet landing on arrival at KBED… or as they say up here, a pretty wicked landing. Guess I didn’t have as much rust built up as I feared.
Unfortunately I did not get to partake in a celebratory beverage at the house. As usual, The Monkey beat me to it… ugh.
It’s really getting to be about time for him to move along. Especially since I’m getting sick of picking him up from State Police HQ ever morning.
Otherwise, it was a great night. I feel rejuvenated. Alive again. Like maybe I can get through these next couple weeks at work without completely losing it after all.