Dec 13, 2009
KUNV => KBOS | CRJ700 | FLT 290 | PSP V58 FQM LHY HELON ING HFD ORW ORW2
Pushback. Start the clock. Flashback 25 years.
25 years ago this city was my home. State College, PA. University Park Airport. Penn State. Dad and I used to hang out at this airport and watch the traffic come and go. We launched model rockets and flew line control airplanes at a field not far from here.
But that was before I went off to college and he moved off to the west coast. For me, the trip to attend college wasn’t very far. Penn State was right there so it was the obvious choice. Dated a college sweetheart, but after graduation I moved up to New England where Hartford eventually became my FBO. The years after graduation were difficult. In between lots of work I was often driving back to University Park in an attempt to maintain my LDR. It was 6 ½ hours of arduous driving nearly every other weekend. Long distance relationships definitely suck in that way.
Soon I came to resent the drive. It was the same scenery over and over, back and forth, no change. I was able to boil the trip down to a science though. I knew where all the speed traps were, what times to leave to avoid traffic. My best en route time was 5 ¼ hours door to door. These days I still have family there and have cause to make the drive, but I don’t care for it not much at all. While I do like to drive, and I have a beautiful Audi A4 turbo that loves to drive with me, when you’ve driven the same 6 to 7 hour trip at least 100 times or more it’s no longer something to look forward to. Plus, these days the trip is often because an elderly grandparent isn’t well and the family has to gather to support them. Not exactly the best of circumstances.
Dad and I maintained a tenuous relationship, but the one thing that kept us together, the one thing we had in common was aviation. Frequently we sent cool photos of aircraft back and forth or discussed the latest aviation news or happenings. Whenever an air crash occurred we would talk about it and relate it back to things we learned in Civil Air Patrol about why airplanes fall out of the sky. But better still if we were ever in town together we would head out to Ridge Soaring in Julian PA and put in some hours together in sailplanes. Between tows upstairs we would hang out next to the wood burning stove in the operations center with the owners Tom Knauff and Doris Grove, who also happen to be world record holding glider pilots. You may not know this but Ridge Soaring is one of the world’s premiere glider ports, and is on one end of a world class ridge soaring run extending from Pennsylvania all the way down to Tennessee. Not a bad way to spend a crisp fall afternoon.
Dad didn’t fly much after college though. He focused on a career as a musician instead. Me? I kept the torch alive in my own way and have gone on to become a regional jet captain with BVATC. Last time Dad came to visit he was noticeably interested in my flying. So this Christmas he’s getting his own copy of FSX, a headset, a joystick, and copies of most of the charts and route maps I use for flying the Northeast.
Flash forward 25 years and this morning the company saw fit to send me to KUNV. Arrival was early enough that I could spend some quick time visiting the family and seeing what has become of my Alma Mater. Gads but that university has become huge. Back in the day it was 20,000 students but now it’s well over 45,000. Where parking lots used to be there are now huge buildings, laboratories, offices, and classrooms. It seems the boundaries of the university grounds are expanding exponentially. Never mind Beaver Stadium where the Nittany Lions play. It used to hold 45k max. Now it seats over 150,000 screaming Penn State fans.
I’ll say it was nice to visit, but I’ll also say it’s true you can never go home again. It’s just never the same. While University Park is certainly where I’m from, it’s not what I would call home. Honestly, I’m grateful to be back on the flight deck with a CRJ strapped to my butt and KBOS loaded into the nav bots. The route is a mildly complicated set of twists and turns towards Wilkes Barre via victor 58, then a flyover of Hartford to pick up ORW and the Norwich2 arrival. I think I’ll save this flight plan and put it on top of the other charts I’m sending to Dad for Christmas. I think he would enjoy seeing -and perhaps even flying on FSX - the route I use to get back to home to my own 7 year old copilot.
The air at altitude is crisp and clean, and with no moon the stars are like pinpricks on a backlit piece of velvet. There was a brief bit of slushy snow on departure (pitot heat was on) but here at 29,000 feet it’s clear and traffic is light. Gusts are strong though and I have the seatbelt light firmly toggled in the ON position. The PAX might grumble a bit about being tied to their seats, but I’d rather that than someone smashing their head into the ceiling. Too much damn paperwork. As we pass over Hartford and the lights of home I glance at the clock to see it reads just 45 minutes of flight time. Damn I love jet speed. If only I had a CRJ strapped to my butt back in the day.
Center is offline tonight so we are on our own to slip quietly over the Cape Air pilots. Every night those guys are out running their circuits around the islands. Tonight I can see their strobes in the distance below and to my 2 o’clock. I feel their pain too. I know they must be battling it out in the gusts tonight with nothing but paper thin piston aircraft to separate them from the cold air. Those guys work hard for their pay, I’ll say that.
Setup is for 27 at Boston, and the company has requested that we test the approach hold on this ship before turning it in for the night. I almost never use approach hold, but I suppose we do still need to test it now and again. I suppose you never know when you’ll need it. Boston ground brings us in quickly and as we pull up to the Charlie terminal I’m thinking of home. Both of them. Park it at the gate, engines off, lights off, seatbelt off, avionics off, and we’re done. Just before I kill the battery and pack it for the night I glance at the clock. It reads gate to gate time from Penn State to Boston of just 64 minutes.
Now that’s more damn like it.
KUNV => KBOS | CRJ700 | FLT 290 | PSP V58 FQM LHY HELON ING HFD ORW ORW2
Pushback. Start the clock. Flashback 25 years.
25 years ago this city was my home. State College, PA. University Park Airport. Penn State. Dad and I used to hang out at this airport and watch the traffic come and go. We launched model rockets and flew line control airplanes at a field not far from here.
But that was before I went off to college and he moved off to the west coast. For me, the trip to attend college wasn’t very far. Penn State was right there so it was the obvious choice. Dated a college sweetheart, but after graduation I moved up to New England where Hartford eventually became my FBO. The years after graduation were difficult. In between lots of work I was often driving back to University Park in an attempt to maintain my LDR. It was 6 ½ hours of arduous driving nearly every other weekend. Long distance relationships definitely suck in that way.
Soon I came to resent the drive. It was the same scenery over and over, back and forth, no change. I was able to boil the trip down to a science though. I knew where all the speed traps were, what times to leave to avoid traffic. My best en route time was 5 ¼ hours door to door. These days I still have family there and have cause to make the drive, but I don’t care for it not much at all. While I do like to drive, and I have a beautiful Audi A4 turbo that loves to drive with me, when you’ve driven the same 6 to 7 hour trip at least 100 times or more it’s no longer something to look forward to. Plus, these days the trip is often because an elderly grandparent isn’t well and the family has to gather to support them. Not exactly the best of circumstances.
Dad and I maintained a tenuous relationship, but the one thing that kept us together, the one thing we had in common was aviation. Frequently we sent cool photos of aircraft back and forth or discussed the latest aviation news or happenings. Whenever an air crash occurred we would talk about it and relate it back to things we learned in Civil Air Patrol about why airplanes fall out of the sky. But better still if we were ever in town together we would head out to Ridge Soaring in Julian PA and put in some hours together in sailplanes. Between tows upstairs we would hang out next to the wood burning stove in the operations center with the owners Tom Knauff and Doris Grove, who also happen to be world record holding glider pilots. You may not know this but Ridge Soaring is one of the world’s premiere glider ports, and is on one end of a world class ridge soaring run extending from Pennsylvania all the way down to Tennessee. Not a bad way to spend a crisp fall afternoon.
Dad didn’t fly much after college though. He focused on a career as a musician instead. Me? I kept the torch alive in my own way and have gone on to become a regional jet captain with BVATC. Last time Dad came to visit he was noticeably interested in my flying. So this Christmas he’s getting his own copy of FSX, a headset, a joystick, and copies of most of the charts and route maps I use for flying the Northeast.
Flash forward 25 years and this morning the company saw fit to send me to KUNV. Arrival was early enough that I could spend some quick time visiting the family and seeing what has become of my Alma Mater. Gads but that university has become huge. Back in the day it was 20,000 students but now it’s well over 45,000. Where parking lots used to be there are now huge buildings, laboratories, offices, and classrooms. It seems the boundaries of the university grounds are expanding exponentially. Never mind Beaver Stadium where the Nittany Lions play. It used to hold 45k max. Now it seats over 150,000 screaming Penn State fans.
I’ll say it was nice to visit, but I’ll also say it’s true you can never go home again. It’s just never the same. While University Park is certainly where I’m from, it’s not what I would call home. Honestly, I’m grateful to be back on the flight deck with a CRJ strapped to my butt and KBOS loaded into the nav bots. The route is a mildly complicated set of twists and turns towards Wilkes Barre via victor 58, then a flyover of Hartford to pick up ORW and the Norwich2 arrival. I think I’ll save this flight plan and put it on top of the other charts I’m sending to Dad for Christmas. I think he would enjoy seeing -and perhaps even flying on FSX - the route I use to get back to home to my own 7 year old copilot.
The air at altitude is crisp and clean, and with no moon the stars are like pinpricks on a backlit piece of velvet. There was a brief bit of slushy snow on departure (pitot heat was on) but here at 29,000 feet it’s clear and traffic is light. Gusts are strong though and I have the seatbelt light firmly toggled in the ON position. The PAX might grumble a bit about being tied to their seats, but I’d rather that than someone smashing their head into the ceiling. Too much damn paperwork. As we pass over Hartford and the lights of home I glance at the clock to see it reads just 45 minutes of flight time. Damn I love jet speed. If only I had a CRJ strapped to my butt back in the day.
Center is offline tonight so we are on our own to slip quietly over the Cape Air pilots. Every night those guys are out running their circuits around the islands. Tonight I can see their strobes in the distance below and to my 2 o’clock. I feel their pain too. I know they must be battling it out in the gusts tonight with nothing but paper thin piston aircraft to separate them from the cold air. Those guys work hard for their pay, I’ll say that.
Setup is for 27 at Boston, and the company has requested that we test the approach hold on this ship before turning it in for the night. I almost never use approach hold, but I suppose we do still need to test it now and again. I suppose you never know when you’ll need it. Boston ground brings us in quickly and as we pull up to the Charlie terminal I’m thinking of home. Both of them. Park it at the gate, engines off, lights off, seatbelt off, avionics off, and we’re done. Just before I kill the battery and pack it for the night I glance at the clock. It reads gate to gate time from Penn State to Boston of just 64 minutes.
Now that’s more damn like it.
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