noise pollution..low flying jets etc

[Remix]

I have had more A-10s, Blackhawks, FB-111's, B52's fly around/over me while hiking in Vermont in the 80s when Plattsburgh base was active. In fact, if you think the cog can smear the sky then you probably have never seen what a formation of 4 smoky B52's can do on a sunny day over Lake Champlain.

Anyhow, as a former avionics engineer, I really enjoy seeing the planes, even when I can't hear them. In 2001, while spending a night out on Tongue, I saw the navigation lights of something flying a racetrack pattern high up and to the southwest. I was glad that it was there.

 

[carole]

DO you already plan your hikes in relation to the expected noise pollution on a given hike??... So would noise pollution change your hiking habits??

I have more than once watched as barking dogs started up the trailhead with owner in tow and changed direction for my hike. Hearing the barking as people/other dogs approach or the owner yelling at or for the dog is not my cup of tea.

The noise of snowmobiles or loud motorcycles is definitely something I try to avoid.

I have waved to several pilots (jets, planes and helicopters) and they were close enough to see them wave back but they are gone quick so not a problem to me.

No one has mentioned ski areas. I avoid the sounds of the slopes which sometimes are even there off season as work is being done.

I also avoid the Huts, popular trails, large groups and non-stop talkers. I like things on the quiet side if possible.

 

[jrichard]

Colin Fletcher

I was just reading though Colin Feltcher's "The Man Who Walked Though Time.". Here's three paragraphs that pretty much sum up how I feel:


(p191)
My second afternoon among the willows brought an unexpected moment that seemed at first like another disturbance. I was sitting reading. It was very hot, even under my awning. All at once, out of the heat and silence, from somewhere upriver, building in an instant from murmur to thunder, grew a roar that made me think, in the seconds left before its climax: "Why that sounds just like a couple of jets coming though low! But of course it can't be." I lifted the edge of my awning and pushed aside the screen of willow stems. And there directly in front of me I saw, startlingly close, hurtling past at half the height the little Cessna had flown and at five times its speed, two silvery jet fighters. For a moment I was staring, astonished, at riveted plates and big black numbers. Then the planes had flashed by, fifty feet apart, and were gone. Their tumult subsided, echoed, died.

I let my screen of willow stems spring shut. For a long time I sat wondering what was wrong with the way I felt. I knew exactly what I should have been feeling. I should have been deploring with self-righteous fervor what these two pilots had done. They had broken National Park rules, good, sensible, badly needed rules. They were frightening wild animals. They were threatening to topple loose rocks. Above all, they had shattered the silence. My silence. Yes, I should have been deploring all right.

Instead, all I could feel was admiration. Admiration for their skill, their damned-fool daring, and their courage. And that, whether I liked it or not, was no disturbance. Rather the reverse, in fact.



This was published in 1968. Interesting how things don't change too much.

 

[sardog1]

Not just the Whites. I just jumped up to see what was making that godawful racket above my house. Two Warthogs, at about a thousand feet, headed toward Pease by the looks of it.

Not just the Whites or southeastern NH. I was walking out of the Cascades one summer when the Navy decided that that particular valley was a good place for their A-6 Intruders to practice. At about 200 feet. For several hours.

 

[spider solo]

Not just the Whites. I just jumped up to see what was making that godawful racket above my house. Two Warthogs, at about a thousand feet, headed toward Pease by the looks of it.

Not just the Whites or southeastern NH. I was walking out of the Cascades one summer when the Navy decided that that particular valley was a good place for their A-6 Intruders to practice. At about 200 feet. For several hours.

I think it is difficult to comphrehend what it would be like to have jets flying at 500 ft through out western Maine and the North country in general.

 

[DougPaul]

I think it is difficult to comphrehend what it would be like to have jets flying at 500 ft through out western Maine and the North country in general.

Aircraft in combat often fly at very low altitudes (~100 ft or less) to evade enemy radar and weapons. They also like to fly in valleys to hide behind higher terrain.

Presumably the pilots are training.

Was just reading a comment on Rec.backcountry about hiking Hadrian's Wall in the UK: "I could skip the military jets flying low enough to part what's left of my hair, though." (Alfred Falk). So count your blessings if your hair isn't being messed up...

Doug