take to the sky

Monday, July 18, 2011

I've been in a helicopter exactly three times in my life. (Thankfully, none of those times involved being airlifted out of Annadel.)

The first time was back in my journalism days, when I covered Camp Roberts. The National Guard was doing a training exercise, and I took a military helicopter out to the "battleground." Pretty cool to fly with the door open and see the golden rolling hills unfold beneath me. (What was not cool: Later, I had to pee by penlight in a port-a-potty. And then I dropped my reporter's notebook on the floor of said port-a-potty and had to make the awful decision: Do I abandon it and lose all info, or do I touch germs? I went with germs. Shudder.)

The second time was in Tasmania. Happily, no port-a-potties were involved. Instead, there were views of white sand and ocean. And a tricky landing between some powerlines. That pilot had mad skills. (On a side note, every time I think of Tasmania, I think of pie. And then I become hungry.)

And the third time? This past Friday. I took a wine writer out for an aerial tour of the vineyards. Sonoma County is so pretty.


We also flew over Annadel.


From the air, the trails looked like ribbons.

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