early saturday morning - 8am - i departed in N3572M, type PA28-161, from KBED and tuned in the concord vor, setting my heading to match it's 359 course. half way to manchester, boston approach verifies that i'm direct to lebanon. "via concord" i reply, "...but i'll take it directly there at this point." as i glanced at my watch, the thought of my mother waiting in that terminal in lebanon, wondering why her newly minted private pilot son is 15 minutes late. "roger" back from approach. i can pick up the lebanon vor at this point, so it's direct there, with route 89 in sight, following me along on the right - a nice would-be curvy emergency runway, should i need it. my co-pilot is claire, she's probably logged about 20 hours passenger time at this point. she's good at finding us on the map, great at spotting gliders and other intruders, and is a fantastic companion to have up in the air. about 10 miles out and 5 minutes late already, i ask lebanon tower to call the fbo and tell them i'm 15 minutes out...my mother doesn't need more to worry about. the very chipper controller gladly agrees and i wonder if everyone is like this at this hour of saturday morning...should i start drinking less on fridays?

my mother is elated. it's her first time up with me, and i can only wonder at what it's like to have the toddler who once flew little metal jets around the living room now be piloting a full size airplane with her in it. she's amazed that i instruct her to keep the warrior's only door open until we are ready to lift off. it's hot out, and once the door closes, the tempurature rises sharply in the little greenhouse cockpit. runway 18 is long at KLEB, but one notch of flaps, just to be on the safe side, as the sun is now fully risen and the days heat is upon new england. as we are about 300 feet above the ground, my mother is glued to the window. claire casually explains where the air vents are. i'm trying to ignore that i have the two most important women in my life at the mercy of my flying skill, and doing my best to excersize that skill. i always hate climbout with rising terrain - this departure is one, not as bad as 14 at fitchburg, but close. the warrior lumbers up to 5500, and we are playing with the clouds. along the way i'm pointing out various towns and landmarks, and over KMHT an ERJ-135, the same as my childhood friend flies, passes 300 feet under us "...traffic in sight," the weary and underpaid FO says concerning us over the radio. at KBED i do a touch and go, and a landing, the 3rd of 3 great landings. it's only 11am.

we met up with dad, headed to the country club in new bedford where my sister in law's baby shower was being held. on the way i finished my logbook entry, made a new page, and realized that my total time had passed 150 hours somewhere over new hampshire. dad and i were tipsy by 2pm, and jon drove us to eat downtown. after that, we headed over to someone's friend's house and had a few more. by midnight, i had been home, eaten, sobered up and was back out with claire at the lodge, barely able to stand being so tired after such a long day. i had a couple greyhounds and headed to bed.

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