The engine is just lugging along at a leisurely 600 rpm, not slow enough to really hear the individual cylinders turning over but slow enough to sound more like a low rumble rather than the typical smooth purr. Fact is, it’s the only sound on the pond this morning–shamefully I’m the only one making noise this early. I hate to disturb all the pond’s residents before the sun is up this peaceful morning but the plane is really very quiet right now while I taxi across the water, far more quiet than any boat would be. However, in a few minutes, once the engine has warmed the oil sufficiently, she will be considerably louder during the takeoff. Even then she’ll still only be making a fraction of the noise many planes make, and only for a minute or so at that–long enough for me to takeoff and head north. My Super Cub will make noise hardly long enough to be a nuisance to any of my neighbors. No, not a nuisance at all, more like the sound will serve as a reminder to all those listening that some fortunate soul is rising up into the grayness of this still morning sky and embarking on an adventure.
An adventure, what is that really? Well, should one look it up in a dictionary they may read words like “an exciting journey” or maybe something along the lines of “a dangerous activity,” things of that sort. But what is an adventure really? I suppose it depends on who you ask. An adventure to you may prove to be mundane to me, and an exciting, dangerous adventure to me might seem like child’s play to some. So this morning for instance, I could be just taking off and flying north to Spencer Cove for fuel and a visit with my friend Jim–a trip barely taking five minutes. Or my morning flight might be the first leg of a multi-leg trip across the country covering thousands of miles and dozens of hours.
See that is the beauty of it, an adventure is really whatever we want it to be and those around us do not determine if it is an adventure or not–we do. Try to imagine this…these neighbors of mine living around this pond, still in their long-johns and nightgowns, waking up this splendid morning in their cozy little cabins along the shoreline. Picture them shuffling their feet out to the kitchen and pouring their hot cup of coffee, finally sitting down at the kitchen table and staring out the window thinking of how peaceful it is here on “their” pond. Then you can almost see them smiling as they look out the window at the beautiful, calm water and reflecting on how lucky they are to live here and enjoy this serenity. All of a sudden, out of the quietness of the early morning they hear my plane’s engine as it struggles to carry me and my passenger over their cottage and north to destinations unknown. They will look up and wonder, “Where is that green airplane going this early in the morning? What could they possibly be doing this time of day and what kind of sites will they see from up there?” Then before they know it my plane will pass over them and disappear to the north, leaving them to hear the quiet slowly creep back in as things return to normal. Those folks don’t know if I’m setting out on a great adventure or just sight-seeing around the pond for 15 minutes, but because they are human and we are yearning for adventure–they will more likely believe I’m setting out on a dangerous journey to parts unknown.
I’m actually just enjoying the cool morning air coming in the open door and the sight of the mirrored surface of the water reflecting the soft light and clouds. The surface tension of the water is only marred by the small wake of my floats as they pass effortlessly through the water–it’s surface otherwise lies flat like glass and undisturbed. I’m the first of the day to mess with natures beauty, but certainly not the last. There will be countless boats, canoes and other craft plying these waters throughout the day but right now I have the place to myself.
I can see from the temperature gauge in front of me that the oil is now warm enough for my full power takeoff and I have completed all of my essential checks before taking flight–which admittedly there are not that many considering I’m flying a simple Super Cub! I swing around to ensure my passenger is as ready to go as I am and I can see her hair blowing well behind her in the early morning light as she stares at the spruce lined shore. I ask if she’s ready to takeoff and see the sun rise from a vantage point reserved for only a few adventurous souls, she smiles the most beautiful smile and nods her approval–no words are needed. I advance the throttle and the plane is on the step and in the air in mere seconds, then my green machine pulls us both easily into the ever lightening sky. I can’t help but notice as we pass over the shoreline, one of my neighbors is sitting out on his deck watching us fly over his cabin and I roll the plane slightly so he can see me wave from the cockpit. Is he thinking those same thoughts we discussed earlier? Or is he annoyed we are making noise this morning and disturbing his tranquil view? His wave back is my answer, he certainly didn’t seem to mind the short period of broken silence.
As the plane climbs through 1,000 feet the suns first rays are striking the plane leaving us with a typically beautiful sunrise as the rays play off the surrounding mountains, lakes and ponds. This is my passengers first time in a floatplane and I’ve been telling her it is the best type of flying there is, that she really must try it–so I can’t help but turn around to see her expression. In the warm reddish light cast by the rising sun I see a beautiful smile that started as soon as she climbed aboard the plane 20 minutes ago and has only widened as we have continued climbing higher. I needn’t ask how she’s liking it thus far, her moist eyes and beaming smile says it all. I think she likes this flying thing. I turn around and set a course that I’d been dreaming of forever, I set a course for our adventure…