This morning I departed in darkness, rain and clouds, cleared to Visalia. The weather forecast for Visalia was for fog and visibility of 1/2 mile, not clear enough to make it, but Fresno International was an acceptable alternate with a slightly better forecast.

After breaking out of the rain and getting on top of the cloud layer, things began to brighten up as the day broke. The rest of the way was a mixture of rain showers and clear spots, and as I crossed over Fresno I got a clear view of the airport and most of the city. That was a very good thing. If Visalia was not possible I could easily come back and land at Fresno.

After Fresno the haze on the ground began to thicken. I dialed up the automated weather observation on the radio. Visalia was reporting 1 1/2 miles of visibility, not a lot, but enough to make an attempt.

The controller cleared me for the procedure, and as a lowered into the haze layer my forward visibility was greatly reduced. I tracked my position on the GPS and was lined up with the runway, only 2 miles out, but I couldn't see it. I reached what is called the "decision height" and leveled as I glanced up and down from the instruments to the windshield and back.

Like the light at the end of a tunnel, the runway numbers solidified in my vision, and seconds later I was flaring for the landing. Yes.

Teddy missed school yesterday with a high fever. We visited the pediatrician that afternoon, and because he is a member of a "high risk" household (i.e. Daisy) they swabbed him and tested for Swine Flu. Positive. Deep breath.

He seems to be weathering it pretty well. His fever has broken and he wants to go outside. No one else in the family has shown symptoms, but I hear it is very contagious. The doctor prescribed an anti-viral medicine for Daisy, a sort of "preemptive strike." Ironically, we were all scheduled to be vaccinated tomorrow.

Last night, after the kids were asleep, I played back the 60 minutes episode I had recorded on DVR from Sunday night. A mistake. They profiled a high school football player, now on life support, one of the 1% or so that for some reason is violently affected by the virus. Will Daisy be in trouble if she gets it?

This video doesn't do justice to the sights we beheld. Flight rules recently adopted forced us to cross at 10,000 feet, which doesn't provide for the best viewing.

Today I climbed a rock formation outside Sedona, Arizona and stood inside a "Vortex." Now I am not very knowledgeable on the subject, but it was told to me that sometimes photography picks up "orbs" of energy that the naked eye can't see. I took this photo several times, but this is the only one that had the diagonal light rays...hmm.

Anyway, Sedona is one of the most beautiful and interesting places I have seen. I had the privilege of flying my 82 year old auntie and some cousins to Sedona for the weekend for a family reunion. The flight included a crossing of a whole lot of desert and also the Grand Canyon.

www.willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2009/10/a-day-with-daisy.html

Corey's blog is very popular and creative, and she came to me with some ideas. She suggested that there was a need out there for a "Daddy Blog," and that I am just the man for the job.

So, taking her advice, I have launched a new blog, dedicated exclusively to my experiences as a daddy. I will do my best to keep it interesting and creative. If you are interested in joining the feed, please visit my new blog at the following address.

www.daisydaddy.com

I will continue to write "Pilot's Blog," focusing on my piloting adventures. So please join me in my new blogging adventure.

It's about 8 miles into downtown Chico from our house, but the ride is very pleasant along either a bike path or quiet country lanes.

Once at the market, the trailer converts to a double stroller, and the storage compartment has room for tons of produce. We enjoyed a sandwich at the bakery downtown and almost made it back home for naptime.

The family time was fantastic. Sara and I had a rare adult conversation as we pedaled along. The five of us on one bicycle drew many smiles and stares even here in the number one bike town.

As we left the bay area, lights became more sparse, but I could still see and identify all the familiar towns along the way; Vacaville, Fairfield, Dixon, Davis, Woodland, Arbuckle, Williams, Willows, Orland, Red Bluff, and finally Redding.

After Redding, however, everything just went black. The dark, hulking mountains began to rise up underneath us, and although I knew that we had sufficient altitude to clear them, it still raised my awareness just a bit. There were a few lights ahead as we came over the rise, and in the moonlight I could see the hulking mass of Mount Shasta just off to our right, towering 8000 feet above us.

About 5 miles out from the airport at Mt. Shasta, as we descended into the valley, I clicked my mike 5 times on the traffic frequency, and as advertised, the airport runway lit up like a Christmas tree. I was happy for that, because if it didn't, I'd be turning around and heading back. It was a particularly challenging approach, as the slope indicator lights that aid in judging the descent were not working. And on top of that it was very windy and the airplane was being jostled about.

I cast a glance into the passenger compartment, and they were both dosing. I took the approach methodically and it worked out, lucky for me, perfectly.

The frigid mountain night air was just what I needed to jolt me for the hour's flight home. I crept into bed about 1:30 AM, a far cry from my usual 10 PM bedtime.

Daisy enjoys performing with her sister more than brother does!

Zoe really wanted Teddy to be in her show. He tries, but just can't get into it.

I will remain here until about 10 pm and then we will fly back under the moon and stars. That should be fun, with great bay area views making for a beautiful light show. The airport we will fly into around midnight is right at the foot of 14,162 foot Mt. Shasta, which shouldn't be a problem under the almost full moon. I'll let you know how it goes:)

The route was not particularly easy to follow. There were places where the bike path dead-ended into a fence or railroad tracks, and then I had to find another way through. It ws as if the city had this really great idea for a scenic, non auto route, but just never quite brought it to fruition.

I bought some new t-shirts at Nordstrom and a pair of pants at Banana Republic, and I picked up a new i-phone! My blog has suffered since the old one fell off the wing on take-off (see my entry from January 2009 entitled "The Bouncing iphone".) The camera was never the same. This new model also takes really good video, so look for more footage from the field!

I don't mean to keep writing about downer things. I guess sometimes the stressful stuff just piles on, and perhaps it is the stressful stuff that I feel compelled to write about.

Our dear dog Penny was diagnosed with lymphoma last June. Our eight year old Golden Retriever had developed a big lump in her throat, so I brought her to the vet to check it out. We decided to just treat the symptoms and make her final month or two as comfortable as possible. The doctor gave her "predizone" to get her through.

Well, she did just fine all summer long. I kept taking her on my morning runs, and after a couple months I began to wonder if she had been misdiagnosed, but about 2 weeks ago I began to see a change in her.....the end was nearing. On Sunday Penny was clearly not feeling well and her appetite was not insatiable as usual. By Monday morning she was clearly suffering, so I took her to the vet.

Not much could be done, just keep her comfortable and call if it is time to put her down, I was told. All Penny wanted by this time was to crawl under a cool bush and lay down. I realize now she was looking for a place to die.

Daisy and Sara came in that evening, and I broke the news. I was thrilled to have them home, and the excitement of the moment overshadowed the seriousness of Penny's condition. We all went to bed. I gave Penny one last stroke and told her what a good dog she is.

I was up early the next morning for my run, and as I descended the stairs I felt a dread about what I would find. On one hand I thought it would be nice if she had passed quietly in the night, but on the other hand I hadn't really said goodbye.

I found her, lifeless, but still warm, on the floor of her room. I petted and stroked her, but she wasn't breathing. My eyes welled up with tears. For eight years she has been a fixture in our home. She has watched as our three children have come into our world. She has welcomed and loved them all, taking their abuses in stride, never a growl or even a quick move which might upend a toddler. She has guarded the house and announced every guest's arrival with her husky bark. I headed back up to tell Sara.

We decided to let the kids see her before school. They probably couldn't comprehend or process it all, but we saw it as an opportunity to teach about the inevitable. After they were off to school, Sara and I buried Penny, in our back yard, underneath the sycamore tree, with our own two hands.

Now there is no friend to feed and put out at night. When there is a knock at the door, it is silent, no barking. Now we have to clean off Daisy's high chair seat ourselves, and the spilled food on the kitchen floor everyday isn't instantly cleaned up by a wet-nosed golden girl. We keep forgetting she's gone.