Throughout its history, America has been a nation of firsts. And although such places as Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina, and Cape Canaveral, Florida, easily come to mind as places where great aviation events have occurred, it is easy to forget that the American West has been a hotbed of activity since aviation's infancy. In " Field of Influence" (page 82), writer Mark T. Masciarotte reminds us that long before Howard Hughes' newly built H-4 flying boat skimmed the waters of Long Beach's harbor in California and nearly a century before SpaceShipOne rocketed into the skies above the Mojave Desert, an unassuming military polo field in Vancouver, Washington, became home to dozens of larger-than-life aviators whose remarkable exploits will never be forgotten.
To fly the latest version of the SAI Symphony 160 (see " Tuning Up the Symphony 160," page 66), AOPA Pilot Technical Editor Julie K. Boatman traveled to Quebec — and had her first experience flying both in Canada and in a province where French is heard as much on the radio as English. "The airport at Three Rivers feels very much like many GA airports in the United States, but as soon as you hear your first transmission, you know you're in a different country. When a pilot in the pattern announces his intentions in English, the rest of the pilots readily follow suit — but without that prompting, much of the back and forth is conducted in French. And the unicom serves a more active role than at most nontowered airports in the United States." While she didn't make the locals suffer through any of her attempts to reply in kind, Boatman truly enjoyed listening to familiar aviation terms translated into melodious Quebécois. When first presented with a countryside still covered with snow, AOPA Pilot Senior Photographer Mike Fizer was a little concerned about shooting the mostly white Symphony against the white background. But to everyone's delight, the icy landscape served as a giant reflector, bouncing light on the airplane where there normally would be shadow. The result? A glowing airplane that shows off the design to good effect.
Emergencies in flight — we read about them, we talk about them, we train for them. Regardless of what kind of airplane we fly or what kind of flying we do, we often wonder, "What happens when it really happens?" Well, it really happened to Marc K. Henegar when the Boeing 737 he was flying lost an engine on a passenger flight from Burbank, California, to Portland, Oregon. "There's a lot to be done and the pace is pretty fast," says Henegar. "Twenty minutes can seem like an eternity, but that night it went by in the blink of an eye." Go along for the ride with Henegar in " Hitting the Fan," on page 97.
Visit the AOPA Pilot Web site ( www.aopa.org/pilot/) for links to this month's issue, back issues, calendar of events, and information on the AOPA Commander Countdown Sweepstakes.
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