![The Conductor](BH-three-bears-2022_03_16.jpg)
WASILLA, ALASKA: WHERE THAT LONESOME WHISTLE BLOWS
After I shot yesterday’s photo of the northbound Aurora Winter Train by the movie theatre, I retrieved Sancho, powered him down, snapped on his gimbal lock and placed him on the back seat, legs and props extended, ready to relaunch.
If traffic lights cooperated, I could catch the Aurora northof the station for a second shot, perhaps at Three Bears Alaska.
It’s about three miles from Valley Cinema to Wasilla Station and about the same to Three Bears. I hit first light red, but reached Wasilla Station as the Aurora rolled away from it. I had a chance. Just as I caught up to the tail end of the Aurora another red light stopped me. The Aurora rolled away.
The light turned green. I caught the Aurora just before Little Miller’s, but was immediately stopped by another light. I hoped to catch up by Trunk Road, but failed. When I reached the overpass beyond Denali Family Restaurant, I had pulled ahead of the train. The Vine light was red but turned green just as I stopped. I knew I could reach Three Bears before the train, but was not certain I could launch Sancho in time.
When I stopped near Three Bears the train was about a mile away. I grabbed Sancho, removed his gimbal lock, put him atop the car, powered him up, waited as he did his preflight exercises and launched him. As he lifted off, the low battery warning suddenly beeped loudly. I had no time to bring him back to swap the battery out. I flew him about 30 feet straight up, across the tracks and found a position and angle I had never before used. A new beep warned me Sancho only had just enough battery power to return home and would do so in 10 seconds.
I knew Sancho could safely fly for two more minutes. I canceled his auto-return. The rapidly approaching train now seemed slow. It arrived barely in time for me to shoot this frame. As the train rolled north, I flew Sancho back to a position directly over my head and got the message the drone was going to land no matter what. I opened up my hand. Sancho descended gently into my palm. I powered him down, packed him up and drove home.
Photograph courtesy of Bill Hess
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