Position: On the green line; ten miles southwest of KLAS (Sin City)Altitude: 9,240 feet and climbingIndicated Airspeed: 250 knotsVertical Speed: 3,900 fpmEquipment: A319 V2500-A-5 enginesPax-on-Board: 123 plus 2 jumpers
Airborne...
Ascension is happening here... Big time; climb rate of 3,900 fpm with every seat full, cargo holds bulging, and Jet-A weight measured in tons. The flight management computers are tracking the green line as the left seat looks out the forward heated Plexiglas for the lost Beech Baron or Cessna 206 totally unaware that an Electric Jet is rapidly closing the distance from below. It is one of my nightmares; a mid-air collision during the climb.
Over the third virtual waypoint, the night sky rolls right as Fi-Fi rolls left to make the sharp course change eastward.
10,000 feet...
The co-pilot flicks the switch to stow the lights and then dings the flight attendants out of 10,000 feet as Fi-Fi lowers her nose and leaves the 250 knot restriction in her wake.
It has been a long day and we still have to fly to the eastern edge of the Empire before sunrise.
The slip-stream noise level increases as our thoroughbred aluminum bird decides speed is what she needs. Visibility improves as the sky clears in the rapidly thinning atmosphere.
Sunday morning church service...
This morning, I attended church service with the wife-of-my-youth. The preacher, a magnificent speaker and all around good guy delivered a powerful sermon. The subject: Wonder and Awe, or lack thereof...
One of the quotes he used:
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.
-Albert Einstein
Our preacher opined that several generations see the Creator as some sort of Spiderman in the sky. What's so great about God? Spidey can save the world... He does it all the time; I see it on the big screen.
The preacher might be on to something... Could this be the reason people do not know the difference between James T. Kirk and, say, Alan Shepard? Who? Alan Shepard... Who is that?
F1 engines...
I miss the days of Von Braun's F1 engines and the hard-core American fighter pilots who rode them.
Engines so mighty that people broke down in tears when the crackling thunder rolled over their souls from a mile away.
Wonder and awe is too hard now. It's safer to make a movie about it.
Monday morning, 0001 hrs...
I glance at the pilot watch the wife-of-my-youth bought me years ago when I could actually read the miniature numbers on it's face... It is one minute hand width after midnight in this time zone. I check it against Fi-Fi's GPS time; exactly 0701 Zulu.
Ahead, just breaking the horizon, the moon. Jupiter is about forty degrees above the horizon. Directly over the cockpit, the Northern Cross embedded in the Milky Way... I can see it with my left eye if I hold my face tight against the warm Plexiglas.
In the green...
All systems are in the green this morning as Fi-Fi spreads her wings over southwest Colorado; Denver's faint glow in my ten o'clock. Yes, visibility is truly unlimited this morning. We have about three hours until the top-of-descent.
Before that, I will sit here in my electrically adjustable pilot's seat and experience the mysterious. Just how big is the universe?
Are we alone or is there life on a far away celestial shore? As Sagan said, "Either possibility is astounding to consider"... Einstein was correct.
Life on the Line continues... With wonder and awe.
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