Leg 004

"The monster & the heart"

Wanda basking in blue glow, which reminds me of childhood Saturday mornings, watching the Rescue Rangers before the sun rose.

Feeling good after dropping the care packages to children in Baião and not having any further missions except to head west to Juruti airstrip, I decided to fill the tanks, head to bed early & set out with Wanda before dawn to Almeirim.

It's now 5:15AM.  My back is quite sore from the little hostel that accommodated me during my stay in Baião, but my excitement of watching the sun rise of the mighty Amazon River is enough to soothe those aches.

I unlock the pilot door, power up the iPad, and for a moment, sit alone in the quiet cockpit, reminiscing about my childhood, as the blue glow conjures memories of watching Saturday morning cartoons before my parents were awake.  The muted light casts interesting shadows & highlights the curves of Wanda's yokes.  And I think to myself: "what a magnificent machine...each lever commanding physical forces that will push me upward and forward...each gauge watching over my progress...."
 

Climbing westward out of Baião airport with Dawn chasing us.

Using my powerful handheld flashlight, Wanda' pre-flight checks look good.  She's full of fuel, with only me as the payload, ready to fly due west into the dark horizon toward our next stop. 

Almeirim is a medium-length dirt strip situated on the top of several small rolling hills on the banks of the Amazon River.  I intend to stretch my legs there, grab some refreshments & continue my journey to Skylark2992's Juruti airfield.

Wanda's takeoff is energetic into the smooth but heavy Baião air.  It's already 34 degrees outside, with nearly 95% humidity.  Today's forecast shows light clouds, situated around 8,000 feet, so we'll stay under them at 6,500, or lower, if necessary, to keep ground contact.  There's certainly no reason to fly around the world and miss the view, right?

Climbing away from the Tocantins River, soon trading up to the legendary Amazon.

Our climb to 6,500 is smooth.  The engines are running well, sipping slightly more fuel in this steamy environment.  If it keeps them happy, I'm completely fine with that.  I'd rather pay 10% more in fuel than be down there in the dense canopy of trees and among the creepy-crawlies that live under it.

The sky is magical.  The sun will soon catch us from behind, but for now, out the front I marvel at a deeply muted palate of soft grays and yellows.  In the distance it is easy to spot the lights of Oeiras do Pará, a tiny village would might be impossible to find in the middle of the day, under its glaring sun.

The lights of Oeiras do Pará come into view as Wanda and I head up to 6,500 on a heading of 270 degrees.

I am feeling great this morning, listen to Owl City's "Galaxies Live in L.A." concert recording.  Adam's creative lyrics wax poetical in my Bose A20 headset, as there is absolutely no one else flying in this part of the world this morning.  I think about future legs and how I will encounter very busy airspace, which heightens the solidarity of the morning.  I am drinking exquisite Peruvian coffee, keeping an eye on engine temps, all while effortlessly following the 270 tick on the whiskey compass.  I'll fly west until I pickup the Xingu River near Senador José Porfírio, which will then guide me northward to the mightly Amazon.  As long as, while in my mental euphoria on this magical morning, I do not drift off my heading, I shouldn't have any issue finding the right hand turn to the north at the proper moment.

The morning's muted light makes Oeiras do Pará look much more substantial than it really is.

Within five minutes, Wanda and I are now established at 6,500.  I pull the power back to 24 and square the props also at 24.  I lean my hungry engines until they are nicely 100 degrees rich of peak and we push westward at nearly 170 knots.

Wanda and I fly in and out of gentle rain showers inside the bottoms of this medium-level cloud layer.  To feed my pilotage appetite, I weave left and right around the various wet spots, always coming back to due West.

The rising sun brings improved photo exposure & bakes the morning dew into a thick misty soup

As the concert moves into the middle 'heavy' section of melodramatic tunes, my eyes feast upon a symphony of colors.  The rising sun convinces the heavy morning dew to get excited and lift off the ground as a thick misty soup.  The gentle rain continues to massage my sky cocoon.  All is well in the world it seems.

As Wanda and I continue to push West to the Xingu, I marvel at the highly complex cloud formations all around me.  It's as if I am playing on the playground of the Gods, testing my mind & my machine inside Their obstacle course of fluffy bouncy castles.  Inside my battle station, I marvel at the morning light cast inside the cockpit.  Wanda's panel looks amazing, her soft flood lights adding a touch of clarity to the gentle morning rays coming from behind.  There isn't much more a man could ask for, really.

Flying into these clouds they were blue.  Flying away from these clouds, they are pink.

We're nearing the Xingu soon, so I am keeping one eye out the front window, while the other is tempted to look behind the airplane at the warm pinks and oranges that announce the arriving sun.  It is wonderful how when flying into the clouds, they are dark gray and blue, but when flying away from them, they are illuminated in warm reddish tones.  The thick canopy of rainforest almost looks like waves on the ocean, accented by gentle rising steam from the forest's floor.

Patches of rain and splotches of gold make a happy aviator ponder the magic of the rainforest.

Simply turning my head 45 degrees to the left (West), the reddish tones are traded for the reflection of golden cloud tops in the distance.  I remember learning about the rainforest as a child, and for the first time, it 'dawns' on me how special this place truly is.  Looking into the distance, I count at least five isolated patches of heavy rain that seems to come from nowhere.  Somehow, above the dark rain spots there is blue sky.  I don't see a single thunderhead.  I suppose it is all math: the extreme saturation of the air with water can only behave in one way at a certain point; that is, to fall as rain.  I actually wonder if Wanda's and my passage through this soupy air has tilted the equilibrium enough to cause a little extra rain behind us.

Good morning, Xingu.  Take me for my first look at the Amazon, please.

Right on time I spot the Xingu.  I'm a little south of Senador José Porfírio, which I blame on Adam Young and the slalom course I charted through the rainy spots.  I've got nowhere to be at any specific time, plenty of fuel in the wings, so it's absolutely no problem.

Wanting to keep Wanda always-pleased, I throw her into a delicious steep turn to the north and head for the waters of the Amazon River, which will be only 10 minutes ahead.

The playground becomes even more spectacular.

Flying north now, the reddish bouncy castles are off my right wing, further distracting my eyes away from what's out front.  Lucky for me, the massive Xingu is impossible to lose, so I take the opportunity to gaze at the puffy red cotton candy just outside my window.

The Monster sends these low cinnamon puffs my way.  Sure, you can bounce me around for a few seconds, but Wanda and I can run faster than you, Monster.

Turning my attention to what lies ahead to the North, I spot it for the first time: there is a monster thunderhead looming just a mile or two off ahead of my left wing.  I suppose it couldn't be a true rainforest if there wasn't at least one monster to face on this flight.  I continue to track the Xingu, staying east of the Monster.

This angry tempest is eating the temperature rise caused by the rising sun for breakfast.  I can literally see it growing taller, doing its best to intimidate me.  Maxwell J. Stanley, however, will not back down.  I won't turn away from it, but I certainly am not foolish enough to turn into it.  No reason to not see another day is my credo.

I pass the Monster one mile to its East.  It protests by throwing 15 seconds of extreme rain and wind my way, but my machine and I pop out of the other side back into smooth, thick soup.

Surviving the Monster's passage, am I rewarded with a heart in the sky?

It would be unbelievable if there weren't photos to prove it:

Within a moment of passing the Monster, two magnificent things come into view...

There is the intersection with the Amazon River just ahead...

And almost directly above it, a flat-laying, heart-shaped cloud.

Am I playing some sort of weird Mario Bros in the sky?  Do I pass the End Boss and earn the Sky Heart?  

Stumped, stupefied, but smiling from ear to ear, I bank left to follow the Amazon.  In only five minutes it will be time to prepare for landing in Almeirim.

Slowing in Almeirim, causing my own dust Monster.

The Almeirim airstrip is pretty easy to find.  I spot its rolling hills about six miles away.  I stay south of the highway the runs along their north boundary and look for the flat, cleared area on top of one of the hills.  I configure Wanda for landing - engines rich, props forward, gear down, flaps down, lights on - and within two minutes we make a smooth landing on to the dirt of Almeirim.  I need to empty my bladder, refill my coffee cup & look at the map to find the best route to Juruti...

Wait?!?  What am I talking about?!  I'll be flying low, buzzing the Amazon River the entire way to Juruti on the next flight of course!