Flying over Scott Peterson’s House
Doug Kaye, whom most people know as the creative force behind IT Conversations, turns out to be an accomplished Bonanza pilot. He graciously invited me out for a day of goofing off in the sky on Monday. Under rainy skies we departed Marin County’s Gnoss Field in the Bonanza, a “machine invented to make sure that the world didn’t become overpopulated with doctors and lawyers”, and retracted the landing gear before climbing 1000 feet-per-minute up through a hole in the clouds. Thanks to a turbonormalizer the engine maintained good power right up to 15,500′ where we had to stay to remain clear of the ice-filled cumulus clouds. We landed on the 12,000′ runway at the former Castle Air Force Base in Atwater, California. The base closed 10 years ago, devastating the town’s economy, but an airplane museum remains with a collection of WWII and Cold War planes. The largest is a B-52 and the weirdest is an enormous B-36 with 6 huge pusher propellers on the mid-wing-mounted piston engines and four turbojet engines slung under the wingtips for takeoff assistance.
George W. Bush’s F-104 is represented among the fighters as well as one of the F-111s that Ronald Reagan sent to Libya in 1986 to demonstrate our irritation with its owner’s attacks on American interests. (Young folks: this incident was notable because Ronbo went to sleep after ordering the bombing of Libya; he terrified Qaddafi by not caring enough about the operation to let it disturb his sleep).
We decided to return to the Bay Area underneath the 5000′ overcast. Before departing the Castle area I practiced some chandelles and lazy-eights from the right seat. These precision maneuvers are required of applicants for a flight instructor rating and I’d only done them in my old Diamond Star and the clunky Piper Arrow trainers. A chandelle is a maximum performance climb while turning 180 degrees. The Bonanza has so much power and so little drag with its gear retracted that this turns out to require a much more extreme pitch-up attitude than in the Arrow.
As we steered our way around the heavier downpours I noticed that we were coming up on a large town and asked Doug what it was. “Modesto, home of Scott Peterson,” he replied. For any man who has been dumped or divorced by a woman reflecting on Scott Peterson ought to be a humbling experience. Consider that Scott was beloved by both his wife, a beautiful and kind person, and his massage therapist girlfriend. This despite the fact that Scott was an adulterer and murderer, both black marks against a person’s character. So the only reasonable conclusion that a rejected man can draw is that he is less attractive, as a package, than Scott Peterson.
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