The tang of salt on an insistent, scouring sea breeze, the forlorn cry of wheeling gulls, the glint of September sun on a long line of combers unbroken to the distant horizon—all these are utterly familiar to me in an almost unsettling way, my adopted sensory home base, stage directions for deep-seated sea dreams that wash away on waking. This tableau could well be a stand-in for heaven, or purgatory, or hell in a Swedish arthouse flick. But no, here is my wife Dawn with her dark hair blowing wildly around her, there is my Lab-mix pooch Piper bounding joyfully across the moist sand, and there is our blue-and-neon-green Stinson standing proudly (and somewhat incongruously) just below the high water line with a small collection of other GA aircraft. This is my first time at Copalis State (S16), the Lower 48’s only public beach airport, and we’re all enjoying our unique Labor Day outing—perhaps our rambunctious pup most of all.
Piper has led an exceptionally charmed, adventurous dog’s life by air and sea in his eight years with us. We acquired our first airplane, a 1953 Piper Pacer, while the canine Piper was but eight weeks old. A fortnight later, he had his first airplane ride in my brother Steve’s lap. He bore it well enough, but followed up by puking all over my truck’s back seat. His stomach soon became acclimated to flight, and various aerial adventures followed over Piper’s first two years of life.
