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     Alright, dear reader, that’s you’re update on how I got to Vegas, and settled in with the luxury digs, gambling and social life.  Now, let’s get back to my classified job.

     For a ragged-assed airline pilot, my flying schedule was a dream come true.  I worked a week “on,” then had a week “off.”  In other words I flew merely two weeks out of a month.   

     During the week that I worked, Monday to Friday, I’d report to Nellis at 6:A.M., preflight my 737, and file canned flight plans with USAF Dispatch.

     F-16s at Nellis.

     F-15 departing Nellis.

     C-130s arriving at Nellis.

The pre-filled out, or “Canned,” Flight Plans I filed with USAF Dispatch at Nellis AFB. 

     Key Air had repainted both our 737s a solid white with a single red stripe down the fuselage – there were no other logo or brand markings. 

     After receiving our passengers, we’d launch at roughly 7:A.M. and arrive at Silverbow around 7:30 A.M.

     Upon departing Nellis, we’d climb on a westerly heading to the Beatty VOR and level out at 28,000 feet - accelerating to Mach 0.74 or 430 knots (494 mph).

     Over Beatty we’d track outbound on Victor Airway 135 in a northerly direction – taking it all the way to the Tonopah VOR.  This route kept us out of the massive restricted airspace north of Nellis – running us up a desolate desert valley with 8,000 foot peaks on either side of us.  Before reaching Tonopah, we’d start our descent - over the VOR we’d make a wild-ass right turn to a southeasterly direction – then track the 18 nautical miles direct to Silverbow. 

     Descending to Silverbow. 

     On Final Approach to Runway Three-Two at Silverbow.

     Approaching the airfield we’d finally penetrate restricted area R-4809, otherwise known as Area 52.  Usually we’d touchdown at Silverbow within 37 minutes after leaving Nellis.

      On the ground at Silverbow.

     I’d either standby at Silverbow, and return in the afternoon, or perform another round trip and have the rest of the day off. 

     In the airline business, dear reader, we’d call this schedule “banker’s hours.”  Since we got home each night and slept in our own bed.

     On the weekend, I’d occasionally fly other charters for Key Air – hauling gamblers in from the Midwest – or tourists out to the Bahamas.

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