Carl Hamlin, CFII - Teacher, Mentor, Friend

It is with great sadness I must speak of the passing of one of my dearest friends, Carl Hamlin. He left us from his home on June 27, 2010, traveling to his ShangriLa. If I wrote of his influence on my life, I would be writing forever, so let me merely give you a few stories that reflect my celebration of the time I was blessed, 2000-2010. Please come celebrate his life at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTHXgqAkm4I as well.

------------

Carl had this very interesting look that he could get on occasion... generally on the occasions I would come up with some hare-brained scheme. It was a look that reflected his thought of "You've seriously GOT to be kidding.... but you're not, are you?" This look was always followed by questions to find out how I figured to achieve a positive result from my idea. There was an instance in particular that taught me that it was safe to share my schemes with him, and from that day forward, nearly every time I came up with something off the wall, we'd plan it out and get it done - always successfully. I remember the weekend after my first solo flight I went out to Chuckanut to rent 757RD for a couple hours of practice. Carl wasn't there, and when I told Sandy where I was planning to go, she didn't seem to have a problem with it. When I returned a couple hours later, Carl was there sitting at the picnic table outside, quietly doodling on some scratch paper. After I dropped off the keys and can (and money), he invited me to sit and chat. He asked me how my flight was, to which I replied "Amazing!" with the biggest grin my face could hold. He looked at me. Quietly he said "Where did you go?" My grin began to fade as I sensed perhaps he was not as happy about my flight as I was, and I said "Well, I flew up around Mt. Baker, then between Baker and Shuksan, down into the valley and into Bellingham, then I flew along the railroad tracks by the bay then home..." That was the first time I saw "that look." Carl was silent for several agonizing moments, then he looked at me, broke out into a smile, chuckled and asked "Did you experience any downdrafts?" We chatted about the flight for awhile, then he sternly told me "Never in a million years would I have given the OK for that flight for you solo, yet, but obviously you did just fine so carry on. Sounds like you've been studying beyond student level. Next time just please talk with me before you go off and do anything else crazy, OK?" I agreed, and that was the beginning of many adventures in flying.

------

757RD had just received a new engine, and it needed a maintenance flight. I wanted to fly over to my folks' in central Idaho, but still being a student pilot I wasn't sure I'd get to make that flight. Everything got OK'd for my first big cross-country solo flight, though, and I made a successful trip to Idaho. The return trip was much more challenging, as temps were high, thermals were profuse, and the smoothest ride I could find was at about 10,000'. My flight plan included stopping at Wenatchee for fuel before heading west over the Cascades. I didn't have a GPS. Somehow I boofed up my navigation and found myself lost. I was getting closer and closer to the mountains with no idea where I was. Suddenly something hit the plane and it was being buffetted every which way but straight. I thought "I gotta get outta here, where can I go...?" (Well, what I really thought isn't fit for mixed company!) I looked down and saw a small runway directly below, and I spiraled down to land. I could see houses around it. After landing I got out, looked around, calmed down, looked at my chart and identified where I was. Fortunately the taxiway had the airport's name painted on it, Desert Aire. I called Carl to discuss my situation. "Hey Coach, I've got a problem that I'm solving but wanted you to know about it anyway." We talked, I told him where I was, he searched and searched on his chart, saying "I can't find it." I said "Turn the chart over." He did. He said "You're THERE?" I said "Yup. There's no bathrooms here." He said "So pee on your tire." I said "I did." He busted up laughing and said "I should have known. You get to wash the plane when you get back." He told me to go to Ellensburg for fuel, then follow 90 home. I told him that wasn't my planned route. He said "Just do it." I sighed... "OK, fine." After I got home, he put it to me simple and straight when I tried to defend my reluctance to follow 90 home rather than my planned route over Stevens' Pass: "You got lost. I didn't want you lost in the Cascades and 90 is an easy follow." Never let it be said that the man didn't put me in my place when I deserved it!!!!

-----

It was a warm July afternoon, and I approached Carl with a scheme. I wanted to get some grass strip experience, but didn't want to go to the islands or to Arlington. I'd decided on Sultan as the destination. Yet again, I got "that look." We chatted and decided 757RD would be the best choice, and since I'd already planned out density altitude issues, weight and balance, and fuel load, he was satisfied enough that we could achieve the goal successfully. It was a struggle for me to find the field, but finally, with his help, I spotted it. I didn't expect it to look as small as it did, and I didn't expect the trees on the ends to be as tall as they were. After circling the field a dozen times or so, he impatiently asked me "Are we going to land or not?" I turned to him and smiled, and said "Yes, when I'm ready, unless you need to pee in which case there's an empty water bottle in back." He laughed and said "Fair enough, but we don't want to burn all our fuel just circling." I replied "Good point." As we made the approach, he showed me how to tell that the far end of the field was wet, and cautioned about landing too long. We landed nice and short, turned around, and he said "Turn right here." He wanted to park out of the way and get out, and go chat with the pilot we saw there working on a Cub. So I turned right there, and promptly sunk the nosewheel into a rut. We were stuck. That's where the photo captioned "Um, Houston, we have a problem" came from. After we got out and chatted awhile, we manually turned the plane and moved it out of the ruts, and prepared to depart. We couldn't use the entire field for our takeoff roll due to the standing water on the departure end. I looked at the short distance between us and the trees, sighed and said "Oh, boy... this is the real McCoy." Carl looked at me very seriously and said "It is. Do it. We have 125 hp." So we did it. On the way home we discussed the experience and mutually decided that we'd keep tricycle gear 152's out of Sultan until later in the season. We landed back at Skagit, parked, got out, looked at the landing gear and he said "Let's get these leaves off here before anyone sees them." I agreed. There was only a small handful. He said "We did good" and shook my hand. I don't think we ever talked about that flight again.

-----

After I got 65C, I had the idea that it'd be great for us to learn formation flight, so great photos could be taken. Not that I had a great camera yet, but still. By this time he knew the impish look on my face before I laid out one of my "plans." Once again, I got "that look" from him. He said "John Hubner is the fella you want to talk to about that." Well, I took that to mean that Carl would be open to the idea of learning formation flight along with me, so I talked with John and he was amenable to the idea of teaching "us" a little bit about the art. When I told Carl that John had said "Yes," and laid out the training plan, he looked at me yet AGAIN with that look! But lo and behold, we trained with John per the plan, and we had a blast going out to practice. It was scary, with Carl's low-wing and my high-wing, sometimes, but what a magnificent and successful feeling to touch the hem of that art :) Carl would humor me sometimes and we'd fly up to Bellingham for touch and go's in formation just so we could announce "flight of two" to ATC and be cleared for our "precision landing routine." He and I both got a kick out of showing off our newly-learned skills to Jim in the tower. We'd take turns being lead and wing, and while a "flight of two" 2-seaters certainly is nowhere on par with even the smallest airshow, we both had the biggest chessie-cat grins after every flight. We were both proud to have had an introduction to the skills required to participate in the art of formation flight.

-----

I always dropped in and let him know if I was heading out on a long cross-country flight, or a foray into the Cascades after I got 65C. I'm not big on using flight following, I'm pretty much a seat of the pants traveler that way but it's smart to let somebody know the plans. My reluctance to use comm always annoyed him, but he finally accepted it as my style and took the extra time in my training to ensure that I obtained adequate skills for my particular interests. Conversely, I'd drop in and say howdy when I got back, share any adventures I'd had, basically just the friendly check-in. One afternoon I'd just returned from visiting my folks in Idaho, and dropped in to say howdy and use the bathroom. Somewhere in conversation I mentioned that I had to scoot, my cat was really wanting to get home. He stared at me. "Your cat??" I laughed and said "Yup, my cat goes with me everywhere, he even flies." He laughed and said "Well bring this super-cat up here and let me meet him!!" So I went and got the cat. Carl was amazed at how calm and mellow he was, friendly, and not even on tranquilizers. He held and petted BooBoo who, when it was time to go, didn't want to go back into his carrier. Carl showed me the trick to "reloading" cats and trust me, every time I put BooBoo into the carrier I think of my amazement at how simple Carl made the task when he first taught me. I figure only a good friend is willing to not only hold my cat but help in resecuring it in its carrier :)

-----

In November of '04, I was to be deployed to D.C. I asked him if he would do me a favor, and take me for a ride in my plane, around the area. He didn't even ask why, he knew. I told him I wanted to see just how much altitude ol' 65C could actually attain. We made it to 13,700' that day. He saw my tears of grief at leaving the first place I'd been able to call home in my heart, with no idea of when I might return, and he understood his role that day. He showed his friendship in his willingness to just be there, quietly and without judgement. He took care of 65C during the next 2 1/2 years I was on the road with my work, kept me updated on life around Skagit, and shared from a distance my thrills and adventures at flying in such diverse places as Barrow, AK, the Washington DC ADIZ, and the Colorado Rockies.

-----

The last time I saw Carl was when he brought 65C over to Spokane for me, a true act of friendship. I regret that I never made it back to the West side to see him again. I'm thankful for the gift of e-mail, however, as we were at least able to keep in touch.

In 2000, I was knocking on doors, searching for the pathway to a new life. Carl opened the door when I knocked, and not once did he ever say that any of my dreams were out of reach. I am forever grateful for his inspiration, his support, his trust and his belief in me. He was, and still is, a true friend.