Dave the Farrier & Merlin

Braveheart Days

The sheep are currently hiding from the rain and muggy bugs in their two comfortable sheep sheds on the hillside. I can't blame them for their lack of verve, it's been a messy few days. With only Sunday afternoon as the exception, the last week has been nothing by rain. Around this farm it's called "Braveheart Days" because any daylight met with wind and rain and general green-weather uncomfortableness seems like weather to watch a that movie in. So look at this picture of the flock, taken on a non-Braveheart Day and just picture the opposite. Picture everyone smelling like wet lanolin and mud up to their shins and not even the gak gak crak of crows to sing to them. In this moist, humid, damp happy there are just the songbirds and robins.

I like Braveheart Days. I like being out in them, doing chores and I like watching them from the vantage point of a warm cup of coffee. It was a busy morning out there today. I did the usual animal and dairy work and then I had to catch three of the Black Copper Maran's I raised from a batch hatched at Common Sense Farm for a friend who needed to replenish his flock. It was me and Gibson out there in the rain and wet leaves of the forest by the farm, but together we have nailed our chicken wrangling to quite the impressive scene. Twice (two of the three birds we trapped!) were caught by Gibson chasing them right into my arms. When it comes to Jenna or the Teeth Machine, most chickens pick Jenna.

I'm working on writing up some new workshops for the late summer and fall and trying to figure out the rest of the month on paper. So far things are coming along, and if all goes as planned I may even make up some late bills today. But besides farm and office work I have no larger goals than a trip to the laundry mat and light jog if the rain stops to a dull roar so I can plod up and down the mountain here. Not a day of big consequence on this mountain, but a day none the less.

Having A Break

Was today’s flight something to beat myself up over? I am going to have to learn to stop beating myself up over mistakes. I hadn’t flown for three weeks since leaving Austin TX. I flew in Oregon with an independent CFI on a familiarization flight. This was my decision. Not screwing around with the wx.

First mistake – I was distracted during the power checks by the aircraft behind me on the taxi way commenting on my nose gear strut over the radio. I proceed to take off without setting my instruments. The DI was 30deg off. I realized the mistake at 300’ as I commenced my noise abatement turn. Uneventful but I’m so annoyed at missing the second step of the before take-off checklist.

Second mistake - Later in the flight I was performing a 360 to lose height. I failed to put the mixture back to rich as I passed through 3000’. I was about to start my pre-landing checks. I would have spotted it then, but the CFI brought it to my attention. I felt embarrassed. I need to learn to stop beating myself up over small mistakes.

I proceeded to go missed at KTMK due to 28021G30 rwy31 (a good decision made by me and not the CFI). At KAST, I went around at 10’ due to not being aligned with the runway centreline (another good decision). Not beating myself up over that. I made good decisions. I returned to Twin Oaks feeling confident that I had at least seen some of the local landmarks. For the first time, I flew VMC on top. It was a small insight into the joys of flying IFR.

What’s the worst that happened today? I identified the instrument issue on departure. I resolved it and continued on-route. The mixture issue would have been identified during my pre-landing check. Yes, it wasn't ideal to descend through 3000’ down to 1300’ with the mixture leaned out.  I’m annoyed that the CFI said it before I spotted it. I should have had a sterile cockpit during the 360 turn.

Why am I beating myself up here? Pride with a having a new CFI on board? 3 weeks too long for a break? Is it time for another break? 

In Arizona, everything was familiar. I was hungry to fly. Not feeling the same here right now.  Seems my mind is focused on more important things than aviation at the moment. I’m deciding to take a break for a few weeks. I am going to go to OSH13 and fly again in August. I will still be current when I return but will probably fly with a CFI.

My parents are visiting Oregon in September. My Dad has never flown with me. In August I will fly to Seattle. In August I will fly pass through 100hrs PiC. In September I will take my Dad flying. Then everything will be good again. By then I will be hungry again.

Pacific West Coast

Navigating Pacific Coast

 After 3 weeks away from   flying, I flew 2.2hrs today. Flew from my new home airport which is Starks Twin Oaks (7S3). Although being cleared to fly by the local FBO, I decided to take an independent CFI with me on a familiarization flight.

We flew out to the pacific west coast where we tried to land at KTMK and KAST. Had to call the approach off at KTMK 2nm on final due to a wind at 28021G30 on rwy 31! KAST wasn't much better. I performed a go around at 10' on rwy 31 due poor correction on my part in a crosswind. We proceeded back to 7S3 via KHIO delta airspace. 

Overall I was happy with the majority of the flight. With a 3 week break, I was already a little bit rusty.

Twin Oaks Airpark

N5440H

The Three Best Ways to Get Around

Stotting, Proking and Pronging

On the level ground around the farmhouse the juvenile chickens are learning how to become chickens. Just a hundred yards away, on the opposite side of my house, the lambs are learning to be sheep. Both species have a verve you just don’t see in their adult forms. Just as the birds are firecrackers, the sheep are little pistols in their own right. The little Scottish Blackface lambs look nothing like the white angels most people picture when they hear the word lamb. Instead they are born into this world like Muppet monsters, all shaggy hair, tiny round horns, big eyes and hooves most people assume they are goats. A few people demand they are goats, and when I call the splotched hairy babies sheep they patiently correct me. I can’t blame these people for their evaluation, Highland sheep are not common around here or most places. You won’t see them in the 4-H tents at the county fair and since most shepherds around here keep sheep for fiber hobby flocks, a rough-woolen breed like the Blackface wouldn’t be very desirable. Scotties are the breed of tartan and tweed, not baby hats and plush jumpers. So when someone compliments me on my darling goat kids I thank them. Some battles aren’t worth the bluster and frankly, I don’t want too many people raising this breed. They feel special to me, a part of this farm.

The twins are just a few weeks old but already they have formed a mob mentality. It doesn’t take lambs long to become brave. On the sloping pasture they stand, their tiny hooves leaving prints in the cropped grass and moss. Their mother is frustrated, munching on last year’s grass in the form of hay while watching the fresh green shoots grow out of reach beyond the fence. Rotating their time between the pastures is necessary though, less the whole place become a soccer field with many, many piles of sheep droppings. The lamb have little taste for the green stuff and are high on warm milk instead, so they don’t mind their scrappy paddock and the piles of dry hay. Instead of sulking over their diet they do as the young chickens do, and form little packs to run around.

Now when the chickens do this, even at a young age, they appear to have some sort of predatory focus. The birds stalk and race after butterflies and bumblebees. The lambs have none of this drive and run and play for the pure joy of it. In past years when there were half a dozen or so babies they'd all clump together at the top of a hillside and run down it as fast as possible, right into their mothers' dinner party without apology or concern about falls or head butts from annoyed parents. They just shake it off and run back up the hill, or across it, and when running grows boring they simply jump up and down, in place, like as if loaded springs have replaced their shins. This kind of pointless, in-place, blissful romping has several names. It’s called Stotting, proking or pronging to the old time shepherds. I don’t question the need for its own gerund at all. The action is so much more than a bounce or a jump. A good stot is nothing like a kid on a pogo stick or a jump rope. It’s higher, oddly and almost magically higher, and it lacks any sort of sense. The little lambs seemed momentarily hijacked of all sense and fear, trying to stay in that place just above their stubby feet in the sky where the world makes more sense. I confess I tried jumping in place myself a few times while watching them, earnest in my need to understand. But I don’t think forethought or reason is involved in the action. You stot because it’s the best thing to do with the moment and you can’t help yourself. Any attempt to suss out the meaning is a sad regression of intent.

Mastering Clearance Delivery

The majority of my 95hrs PiC time has been flying in and out of delta airspace. Most Private Pilots want to land at the airports with the big airliners and/or military traffic. This normally involves visiting either a class charlie or bravo airport. In Phoenix, I had two choices with KTUS and KPHX being on my door step. One difference between charlie/bravo vs delta is the requirement to make an initial call to a clearance delivery frequency. 

KCHD and KIWA Class D  (under KPHX class B)

Looking back, I realize that I made hard work of those initial radio calls. Most initial calls to ATC should involve (a) who you are, (b) where you are and (c) where you want to go. The clearance delivery call should not be that different. My issue has been failing to get  all the information into the initial ATC call.

As you will see from the following charlie example (KTUS ), the controller had to come back to me more than once requesting information. I should have been able to give them all the information at once. In this case it was the (a) aircraft type SKYHAWK, (b) my location and (c) I needed flight following. 




As I gained more hours in the air away from the delta airspace of CHD, my calls started to improve. Here's another example but this time from a class bravo airport (KPHX). Almost perfect but I failed to say "Phoenix Clearance Delivery". I only said "Clearance Delivery". I'm a perfectionist! (let's not mention the part about Chandler!)



In Austin, I finally nailed the call to ATC on two occasions. However I didn't record it, therefore you will just have to believe me!

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