This was supposed to auto-publish yesterday. Stupid technology.

In addition to highlighting the similarities between operating a small, underfunded farm and single-handed cruising in a small sailboat, i’ve got another little analogy to spin for all y’all.

I love x-plane. Austin Meyer, principal author, is to flight simulation what Matt Mullenweg is to content management for the other 99% of web users.

Tonight, after an intense day of eye exams, accountant meetings followed by cat weirdness, rodent abatement,and other farm-ish things, i decided to fire up the Cessna 185 (which i’d left out at Crescent City Muni), and fly back to KMFR.

I departed KCEC in clear air, but with a major onshore wind. No problem, that would cut my travel time to KMFR by a third.

The route from KCEC to KMFR crosses the coast range and the Siskiyou range, a cruise altitude of 7,000 feet is called for. No problem.

The sun was setting as i departed KCEC into the nasty headwind, the little plane taking off like a helicopter with a vertical speed of nearly 2000 feet per minute and a ground speed of a 1969 VW Beetle.

Once at cruise altitude i trimmed straight and level, set all the levers and dials, and sat back as everything grew steadily darker.

At about 40 miles out i tuned the Medford NDB (356), put the needle on my nose and started a slow descent.

Right then X-Plane decided to fail some electronics. Specifically cabin and instrument lighting.

In a real plane i probably would have pulled out some kind of a flashlight, but that’s one accessory still missing from the simulator.

I had the field in sight when the lights went out, barely, and eventually landed safely, but it was, even simulated, a tense procedure.

Bottom line? Just like potable water is life, altitude is life. Altitude is money in the savings account. It’s worth more than gold. It gives you options, you need to spend it carefully.