It was scheduled for an early go, 5:30 takeoff last Thursday. The drive to the airport revealed early morning walkers, singles, couples and those with dogs. Hmm, not a bad time to walk, it is cool, little wind and not much traffic.

Going down the hill on East H, I saw flashing lights ahead of me that turned north on East 11th. Probably someone with bad troubles headed to the emergency room. Thank you Lord, it wasn't me.

I had serviced the airplane and done the preflight Wednesday so only a perfunctory check was necessary; yep both wings were in place, the three tires are all up, it was ready to go. Rolled it out of the lighted hangar when my passengers arrived closed the doors and it was time to start the engines.

I had done my flight planning on my personal computer and filed my instrument flight plan all before I left my house, cozy yet with Ann still in bed. I programmed the GPS on taxi out; the wind was calm so I elected to use the longest runway and take advantage of its down hill slope.

I did a thorough run-up and systems check because in truth I don't much care to do a night takeoff even though by this time there is a definite lightening of the eastern sky.

Everything checked so I elected a rolling takeoff, power to maximum 2700 RPM, 38 inches of manifold pressure, made slight adjustment of the mixture on the left engine, looked for other traffic, all engine instruments indicated normal, 100 knots airspeed, raise the nose, fly off the runway, retract the landing gear, three green lights, turn on the yaw damper, start the turn east toward Lincoln, reduce manifold pressure and RPM to climb power and set the mixtures to 100 degrees below peak on the exhaust gas temperature gage.

Gosh the single pilot of a multi-engine airplane is a busy fellow.

Climbing through a safe altitude I turned left turn on course. After tweaking the power setting I turned the autopilot ON. Gosh it was nice and smooth that morning. "Denver Center, Twin Cessna Two Zero Whisky Alpha." I announced into the yet dark sky. "Two Zero Whiskey Alpha, Denver Center, you are cleared to Lincoln Airport as filed, maintain niner thousand, squawk zero four five two, say altitude" was his reply.

And so it went as I climbed into a gorgeous sunrise tinged with brilliant orange cirrus clouds. 

By the time we were over the dimming lights of Holdrege we'd reached 9,000 feet so I set power for cruise, turned off the boost pumps, closed cowl flaps and readjusted the mixtures for best economy. Ground speed was 176 knots or about 200 miles per hour. It was absolutely smooth in a sky adorned with yet orange tinged wispy cirrus clouds. Denver Center was quiet until they cleared me over to Minneapolis who in turn showed only a tad more life. Not many people were flying that time of day, just me and the freight dogs.

With the autopilot doing the work and the entire engine instruments solid in the green I had time to contemplate. I was reminded that legitimate dog breeders are super sensitive about use of the term "puppy mill!"

Like my mama said "If you aren't proud enough of what you are doing to show other people, maybe you shouldn't be doing it!" But then she wasn't talking about making sausage and she didn't live in the age of militant animal rights kooks either.

Although it was still invisible in the dawn, I thought about the field just north and east of Holdrege that I'd noticed the day before. The field with a center pivot stretching from the center out to an edge ¼-mile away, pivot, pumping station and entire quarter section all standing in water. It would be nice to somehow send that extra unwanted water directly to Kansas.

Just an hour after takeoff, passing abeam York, Center directed me over to Lincoln Approach Control. I had already listened to the recording of the weather conditions at the airport and announced that fact when I called Lincoln. They cleared me to descend to 4,000 ft, at my discretion, and to expect a visual approach. Over the interstate south of Seward, I stated "I have the airport in sight." and Approach cleared me to contact the Tower. "Lincoln Tower Twin Cessna Two Zero Whisky Alpha twelve miles west."

"Two Zero Whiskey Alpha, Lincoln Tower, you are cleared to land Runway Three Five."  That was easy, there must not be any other traffic, was my thought. 

To cap off the near-perfect flight I lucked out and managed a squeaker landing. Some days it just all goes together perfectly. I casually wondered if I'd already died and awakened in heaven. Yes it is a tough way to make a living but somebody has to do it!