I knew it was going to be possible to have more than just a local flight, so I got up at 05:00 in the morning and checked the weather again. The prognosis wasn’t as good as the night before: freezing fog, patches of fog, lower visibility were on the agenda. Based on different variables, I made a decision to fly to Höganäs in Sweden. I sent my flight plan, got it confirmed, and at 06:30 I was walking to my car that was parked a couple of kilometres away. This is how it is with parking places in Copenhagen.
Bakeries and small coffee shops were opening their doors for first clients. The window shelves were loaded with golden bread and colourful pastries of different kinds, and the grinding machines were loudly preparing coffee beans for brewing. Homeless people were sitting outside, having a lazy chat and a drink. They are also part of Copenhagen.
When I arrived to my flying club in Holbæk, there was rime ice everywhere – one of those calm, cold, and beautiful mornings. I began preparing my Aeroprakt for the flight. Sunrise around 08:40 made me run around taking pictures:
The rising sun also triggered some concerns regarding how the weather was going to develop that day. At this time of the year, the sunlight doesn’t have much power. I often observed that a morning before sunrise would be with crystal clear skies, but as soon as the sun comes up, the fog would quickly grow and stay there till the sun goes down.
I did my homework – had studied all weather forecasts I normally check, and it was going to be good both in Holbæk and in Höganäs, though patches of fog over the northern Zealand and freezing fog in Ängelholm (north of Höganäs) were added to the morning observations and predictions.
With the pink skies in the east, that morning seemed to be magic. There were lots of geese flying very low over and around the airfield, loudly announcing their presence:
Kenneth, a pal from my club, was also out, going for a morning flight in his beautiful L-4:
The oil temperature in my Aeroprakt was zero degrees, but the engine started promptly, without much effort. I warmed it up till the oil temperature reached +50C, and then had to stop it and get out to scrap the ice off the front window that developed during the warm-up.
I flew in the northeast direction, but looking east against the sunlight the visibility wasn’t very good. Thin layer of fog in Roskilde area was spreading around:
In the north it was clear, but when I reached north Zealand, patches of fog began to appear:
It was going to become better during the day, according to the aviation forecasts, but I considered whether it was wise to turn back anyway.
Although in some places the fog seemed to be quite dense, it was still local, and the visibility was good. I could clearly see the Swedish coast, and decided to continue.
When I landed in Höganäs and arrived to the parking place, I was asked on the radio if I wanted a cup of coffee. What a kind service! I answered “yes, please”, and it was confirmed they started preparing it. In the club house there were two pilots – Lars and Peter, who welcomed me in. We had coffee together, and a good chat.
I love their radio equipment, and it works perfectly. On the attached modern display one can see who is in the air, TAFs and METARs of the nearby airports, and other useful information:
Before going to Höganäs, I had a look at a map and thought “Is there something I haven’t seen yet?” And indeed there was! I saw a place on the coast called Åles Stenar, and decided I’d go there to experience it.
I borrowed a bike in the flying club, and headed on the road. On my way, I stopped to take pictures and to enjoy the beautiful views:
And soon Kattegattleden – a cycling route that goes along the west coast – brought me to Åles Stenar:
There was a lady sitting on those rocks. When I asked her whether it was Åles Stenar, she answered “No, no, Ales Stenar is near Kåseberga, on the eastern side of Skåne!” And then I showed her this place on a map where it was called Åles Stenar. We laughed, and she thanked me. She said she was coming by that place on her daily walks, and often sat down to relax and appreciate the sea view, but she thought those were just some ordinary big stones.
The other Ales Stenar (different spelling of first letter), the lady was referring to, is indeed on the east coast. This is how it looks like from air, photo taken by a friend of mine Thomas Björn, from his Cessna 140 (have a look at his website here):
The Ales Stenar on the photo above is around 1,400 years old. It is built of 59 huge boulders in a shape of a ship hull. Each stone weighs about 4-5 tonnes. Nobody knows who built it, and its function remains a mystery. It is generally believed, Ales Stenar could have been a cult center, a grave monument, or even a sun calendar.
I biked to the marina where kids were feeding the ever hungry seagulls:
I had my lunch there, too. The Hamnkrogen restaurant was closed, but I brought with me smoked halibut, bread and avocado, and it was so wonderful to sit outside.
Later, I spent some time walking in the downtown, watched kids skating on a small skating rink near the church, and did a some window shopping.
In the flying club on my return, there was freshly brewed coffee and a nice company of the local pilots. I left on time, and waived goodbye to Sweden:
At home, the weather greatly improved, and I was flying a bit around before landing, enjoying the sunshine. I had time enough both to fly my drone, and to thoroughly clean my Aeroprakt:
It was a lovely day.