Walking on the Moon

It looks like Brenda and I will be flying East this year for the holidays, which means I’ll be finding extra excuses to go out flying this month.  Today’s excuse was a trip out to Corona, a small uncontrolled field out near Chino and Ontario.  Corona strikes me as a good community airfield and it’s usually a good trip, though it does get busy there.

The flight out through the LAX special flight rules corridor was pretty uneventful.  The Inland Empire had some haze in place, but nothing too bad.  I heard some people land at Corona ahead of me, but as I came in, I had the pattern to myself.

I tied down and moseyed over toward the restaurant, and spotted this cool Ercoupe on the way.

There are so many cool Ercoupes running around these days that there must be some kind of Ercoupe hot rodder’s club or something.

Anyway, I like Corona because it’s the kind of little field where you can see the planes along the town’s roads near the airport.

Of all the things at Corona that I liked in the past, the restaurant made the least impression on me.  It was fine, but I don’t remember it fondly.  And now I’ll have to remember it. A new place has opened up in the old restaurant’s place, called Bobby A’s.  I talked briefly with Bobby when I was there and he says he’s only been open since mid-September.  He should stay open for a while – the food is good and priced reasonably and the place feels like it’s run by people who care.  It’s pretty much a 50’s diner, but there were vegetarian options, and the breakfasts looked good.  I’ll definitely be back.

On the way out I passed this little vehicle outside the airport security office.  I don’t think I’d mess with a security guard riding it.

As I walked up to the place to move on, I saw this gorgeous Stearman running up and departing.  Boy do I love the old biplanes.

As I was getting untied and ready to go, I’m pretty sure I saw two planes almost meet in the middle.  A Cessna was in the pattern doing touch and goes arriving behind me and going into the wind.  I saw him land and heard an engine run up, which I assumed was the Cessna following through.  I looked up, though and saw an airplane that was coming toward me and turning right to the downwind. Then I saw the Cessna follow through.

I’m pretty sure they were headed right at each other, though they were never very close.

Not a good thing.

Anyway, I cruised over to Chino and got some landing practice in.  I was going to do a few at Corona, but honestly the pattern was pretty busy, and though some people were ignoring it, there was a sign saying no touch-and-goes on the weekends.  I try to be a good neighbor, so I flew the 2 miles over to Chino.

After a few trips around the patch, I filed an instrument flight plan back to Santa Monica just for the chance to drill procedures and practice working in the system.  The trip back went very well.

I’m looking forward to a few more before the big trip in December.

In my continuing effort to sharpen back up before I head off to Seattle, I tooled out to do some landings and take-offs. There aren’t that many airports that let you do touch-and-goes on the weekends, but Whiteman and El Monte do. I planned to hit them both today. I like to practice at other airports, because they’re unfamiliar enough that landings feel different from the zillion I’ve done at Santa Monica.

Image of a brushfire behind WHP (color enhanced)

The first interesting thing was that there was a smoke plume coming from out Whiteman way. The briefer hadn’t mentioned any closures or fire, so I figured I’d creep out that way and see if WHP was still open. It turns out it was, but the fire was close enough that I felt like I was in the way. They were conducting normal ops, though. I saw a banner tow pick up a banner and head out.

I did break one of my usual rules and take a picture of the smoke plume from near the coast in flight. From WHP you could see the flames.

After getting only 2 landings in at WHP, I went over to EMT for a few more. Overall these were OK, with little improvements, but I bounced the last one, so I decided to do a few more at SMO. I also aborted one takeoff on a touch-and-go because there was a big pack of birds on the runway milling about ominously.

Back at SMO the landings were decent. There was a good deal of gusty wind, which didn’t simplify anything, but still, one likes to do better. I did close out the session with a very nice short approach if I do say so myself.

Overall I’m feeling much less rusty.

We had the day off Friday, and I’d finally gotten my medical renewed (it was delayed by a combination of a loss of a flight surgeon and a lot of travel), so I decided to get up and shake some rust off.

I’d originally planned to go out to California City, a favorite desert spot, but I realized that Mojave’s tower would be open today, and the idea of adding a new airport to my list was attractive. Mojave Air and Space Port is famous for being the home of Scaled Composites, Dick Rutan’s company that built SpaceShip One and the Rutan Voyager. It’s also a facility for mothballing (and cannibalizing) airliners that aren’t in use. Importantly, there’s also a restaurant there – specifically one run by the same folks who run the restaurant at William J. Fox field (and California City).

Santa Monica was reporting a scattered layer at 800 feet, which at Santa Monica usually means that there’s a marine layer on the south end of the field, which was the case when I got there. I departed runway 3 (with a significant tailwind, but it’s a long runway by Archer standards) and had to kind of thread my way past a couple aircraft getting out. There was a combination of the layer, some close airspace, a burst of traffic, and a new controller in the tower than made it more cramped than I would have liked, but no big deal.

The actual flight out to Mojave was pretty uneventful. Fairly smooth air and little traffic. The air was clear, but not crystal.

On the way in, I heard another aircraft heading for Mojave, one calling “heavy” after its callsign. That’s an indication of not only an airliner, but a big one. Sure enough, when I got there the mothball facility was taking in a brand new Boeing (looked to me like a 767, but I’m lousy at this). I’m sure that was fun to land in a 20kt crosswind without an ILS.

Um, yeah, there was some wind. And some heat. When I got there they were reporting 12kts, with gusts to 21, and 34 degrees Celsius. As a result I landed on the narrow, short (relative standards – the runway was nearly as long as the one at SMO) runway 22. With all the gusts and the high density altitude, the landing a good challenge, but uneventful. I taxied up to the restaurant and took some pictures.

The food was good, as expected, and it was nice to be out of the hot, dry wind. As an airport restaurant, they’re required to have a bunch of airplane stuff on the wall, but the local boys do particularly well here. My menu was signed by Dick Rutan (and I suspect that most were) and there were plenty of pictures of him and his crew around. It had the vibe of supporting the airport family and was a nice one to pick up.

Getting ready to leave, it was time to address density altitude and gusts again. After leaning out for altitude, I took the longer, more convenient runway 26 for departure. The takeoff was a pretty good crosswind takeoff, but you could definitely feel the wind as you got off the ground. There was some turbulence, even at a low level, and work to do to keep everything straight and safe. It worked out well, though and I began putt-putting for home. And the putt-putting indicated that there was a pretty good headwind going back. I was seeing speeds in the low 90’s when I was indicating 110 or so, meaning 20 kts of headwind.

On the way back I got to relay a message for ATC to an aircraft that wasn’t hearing the transmitter. It’s just a little thing, but I always feel helpful doing it.

As I closed in on SMO, the field went IFR – the marine layer had walked back over the airport. While I had other choices, I figured the easiest thing to do was to get an IFR clearance. I’d gotten the weather before the controller, but he set me right up with the clearance.

The approach itself was one I’m used to being based at SMO. I wasn’t ever in the clouds, had the field in sight the whole way, but the regulations say no VFR (though special VFR was a choice). Still there are nuances. As I contacted SMO tower the same new voice from earlier was on the frequency. He asked me to report the field in sight, and I did immediately. He started to clear me for a visual approach, but I heard a familiar voice in the background say “<bzzzt> Wrong. Continue approach,” which he instructed me to do. I’m assuming that because I couldn’t go around in VFR conditions that they couldn’t issue me a visual approach clearance. And by “assuming” I mean that I’ll be looking it up…

I caught a little gust low, which made my landing less than beautiful, but it was still a good day.

I’ve been swamped by the holidays and work, so I haven’t been up in a couple weeks. I got a chance to remedy that today, and scooted out to Cable Airport for breakfast at Maniac Mike’s Café. Cable’s another one of the few uncontrolled, privately owned, public use airports in the LA basin – like Flabob. It’s usually an interesting place to drop in to.

I’d like to claim that my couple weeks off was the reason I screwed up my radio work on departure, but honestly, left and right are more fundamental than correct radio syntax. I asked for a right downwind departure and made a left downwind departure. Duh.

The flight out was under astonishingly clear skies. It was so clear I thought I’d mis-set my altimeter and was flying too low. Simply gorgeous views of the San Gabriels en route.

At Cable I joined the pattern (which was hopping) behind a CHP Cessna who was arriving from the opposite direction. My radios were better here, though less formal. Both of us slipped in without incident.

I took a bunch of shots at the airport, including the breathtaking mountains and a wing of RVs that had flown in. I’ve uploaded a couple here and more to Facebook. If you want to see the Facebook pictures and aren’t on there, drop me a line.

Breakfast was good, and I had a cup of coffee with it. I usually don’t indulge, but there’s something about Maniac Mike’s that makes me want a cup. One’s plenty for me, as I have no tolerance whatsoever.

After enjoying breakfast and scoping out the Pacific Flyer, a source of endless entertainment (and some actual reportage), I headed back out to SMO. Before I left I watched a pretty unusual looking aircraft land. It had an in-line gear arrangement like a glider, but was also a powered A/C. Maybe it was some kind of motorglider. In any case, the fellow flying it called it a Europa.

On the return trip I throttled back to a 90 kt. airspeed to enjoy the trip a little longer. I had some other stuff to do, and couldn’t really justify flying too much further, but slower worked just fine. Coming into Santa Monica, the tower asked for best forward speed to the runway to stay out in front of an arriving LearJet. I’m sure the controller was pleasantly surprised to watch me pick up 30 knots on final.

I even made a good landing.

Once every two years (24 calendar months, really, but who’s counting…) the FAA requires private pilots to spend a couple hours with an instructor or other authority to make sure that their skills and knowledge are up to the standards required to share the national airspace. My 24 months are up this month, so I spent some time yesterday with my instructor.

A flight review isn’t required to be as rigorous as a checkride. Because my regular instructor, Andy, and I fly together fairly regularly, he’s got a pretty good idea how well I’m keeping my skills honed. This created a more relaxed atmosphere than a checkride. If I were dangerously out of practice or exhibiting questionable behavior, I’d expect Andy to let me know whether it was flight review day or not. Similarly, he challenges me when we’re flying together.

Most of the air time was spent on things I don’t do very often. We did some performance take-offs and landings as well as a couple engine-out landings. The performance stuff went pretty well, but one of my engine-out landings was much closer to blowing the energy budget than I would like. It was a good to see just how much energy a sharp turn burns, as well as how it looks to do one down low. I definitely take the point about being smoother with my set-up/approach and not putting myself in a spot where I need a big correction down low. We did all these at an unfamiliar airport, which made for better training. At Santa Monica, I know enough landmarks to cheat; at El Monte I don’t – especially with the wind favoring the less common direction.

We did some other VFR airwork, polished up some stall recoveries, and some steep turns. I got to do a little slow flight as well. I like slow flight, and work it myself fairly regularly, but it was good to let Andy have a look at it. We did a couple unusual attitude recoveries as well, including a very impressive steeply descending scenario.

After that we spent some time reviewing the aviation regulations over the Airport Super Breakfast at Annia’s at El Monte. This was literally more than I could eat for less than 7 bucks; an awesome choice.

The ground school review was helpful, but I’ve come away with some questions about some of the new GPS/GNSS airways that are sort of a homework assignment.

I took a couple pictures as I pulled out of El Monte, including a PZL-104MA Wilga 2000. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but the FAA registration database is really helpful. You can sort of tell what it is from my picture, if you know what it is. The actual aircraft is very striking. I also took a shot of the clouds over the mountains at El Monte and of the comparatively low price on the self-serve fuel sign at SMO.

I found a little time today to go out to Flabob airport and see how the basin was doing. It looks a little burned, and there’s still a lot of smoke/haze hanging around. There were lots of people up and around, though. It was busy on most frequencies today – especially Santa Monica ground for some reason.

Flabob itself remains a classic small airport. There were several people coming and going. A tailwheel pilot stopped by the EAA hangar, apparently to see what was going on; there was a Mooney practicing take-offs and landings; a newish looking LSA was on the ramp and departed while I was there; there were a couple other transients floating around. I stopped in to the cafe for a patty melt and watched the world go by.

I took a couple pictures, below. One is the Flabob weather rock, which I had reported as INOP in 2006. It’s been functioning for a while, and I’m happy to have photographic evidence.

The last two are at Santa Monica, and are interesting not for what’s in them (though my plane is always cool to see), but for the tree that isn’t in them. Apparently they’ve cut down the tree that hung over my parking spot and shed seed pods and bird droppings on it. This is good. Good day all around, really.

A pilot’s eye trip report for our 2008 trip to Portland is up. Other trip reports are also available.

I finally wrote up a trip report for our holiday trip last year. Enjoy the pilot-geeky description and the pictures.  If you’ve missed any, the other trip reports are still available.

Here’s a few pictures of SQL. I like the Blue-Angels-painted ultralight a lot. The rest are pictures of the terminal and windsock.

I had a meeting last week up in the Bay Area which was a good excuse to get some flying in. I flew 32169 up to San Carlos Airport (SQL), which was close to our meeting site in Palo Alto and slightly larger than the Palo Alto Airport (PAO). The trip is a little more than 270 nautical miles as the crow flies, so it’s a nice 3 hour flight with no wind.

The trip up Monday was pleasant, but hazy. There had been a 1000′ ceiling at San Carlos earlier in the day that seemed to be coming in and out, so I filed IFR. I always think it’s easier to cancel IFR and go back to VFR than the other way.

The trip up had a slight tailwind and was generally a smooth trip. It was really hazy over the central valley, though. I wouldn’t call it IMC, but there wasn’t a great horizion either. And I’m glad I was handed the approach as well, so I could follow it right to the airport. The combination of the haze and the unfamiliar airport made it hard to spot. To be fair, the first time I flew into San Carlos I had similar problems finding the field, so maybe this isn’t a matter of conditions.

Anyway, I had a productive meeting and was planning to head out Thursday night for home. The best and worst things about meetings I attend is that there’s generally network connectivity in the meeting, and in this case I used it to watch the weather out of one eye. What was supposed to be a day with a few rain showers turned much more exciting.

First of all, there was an icing airmet covering the northern half of my route. Ice is very bad in a little plane like mine, but I’d been expecting this from earlier forecasts. Two factors were working in my favor here. First, the freezing level was relatively high, so if I stayed low enough, I’d be below the airmet – and more importantly in air above the freezing point. Secondly, the clouds weren’t solid. There were layers to sit between. For those of you who don’t worry about ice forming on airplanes, significant icing is essentially impossible outside clouds or precipitation. So I had a couple plans for icing. The thunderstorms were a special surprise, though.

A convective sigmet popped up between the Bay Area and the LA Basin about 3:00. If it was staying anywhere near stationary, it would be between me and home. Even if I wasn’t flying after dark, I wasn’t going to thread my way through a line of thunderstorms, and after dark it was simply off the table. Fortunately, the line was moving north at a decent clip.

I started dragging my feet and letting it blow by. I had a friend taking me to the airport, so I just let him know I was in the opposite of a hurry and we hung around a little longer than we’d planned. Bay Area traffic helped, too.

I arrived at San Carlos about 5:45 and took my time getting the plane topped off and loaded up and then did my walk around in the daylight. Then I called flight service to change my departure time and get a complete weather briefing. The plan was to look for reasons to get a hotel and try again the next day.

The briefing was a good thorough one. The thunderstorms had moved off to the northwest and my path to the south was clear. The clouds were still layered and fairly high, with the required altitudes on my route low enough that I could keep under clouds and freezing level. There was a serious headwind (more than 40 knots in some places), but with the GPS I’d be able to keep tabs on my ground speed and make an extra fuel stop if needed. And flying lower would keep me out of some of the wind as well.

Only two more complications, first a sigmet for blowing dust in the central valley. A sigmet’s a pretty serious advisory, and neither the briefer nor I had heard of one for blowing dust. The conditions were forcast and observed well below my planned altitude, but it did mean that that area would be a bad choice for an impromptu fuel stop. Therefore, if there was a diversion to be made, early was better than usual.

And finally, there was the possibility that there would be low ceilings at Santa Monica (SMO). Forecast ceilings were 1200′ so an alternate was in order. Fortunately Van Nuys (VNY) is open all night and was forecast to be clear. A 1200′ overcast at SMO is well within my limits and the plane’s.

The weather was all in order; I had plans I believed in to deal with all the forecast and observed conditions. I took a good long serious look at my own state, and I felt well enough rested and healthy enough to make the flight, even given the conditions. So, off we go.

When I picked up my clearance, the transponder code they issued me was 3216, the first (and only) numbers in my registration that can be a code. I’m not superstitious, but that seemed like a good omen to me.

After all that preparation, the flight was actually pretty easy. I made sure that all the ATC I talked to knew I didn’t have any on-board weather detection equipment, just to be sure. And there was a nasty headwind, but well within my planning. Overall, I flew according to plan, and carefully, and I wound up at SMO safe and sound. In a burst of actual good luck, the sky was completely clear at Santa Monica, and I didn’t even have to shoot the approach. In fact, I was cleared for the visual approach over Burbank (BUR).

I enjoy this part of flying a great deal, actually. Planning a flight in challenging conditions and seeing it through safely is a good feeling.

When I pulled into my parking spot at SMO, I realized that I was pleasantly surprised to be there. This wasn’t because I thought that the conditions were too dangerous to fly in, but because I had been prepared to divert and end the flight elsewhere for any number of reasons. In fact, I’d planned such diversions, but not needed to execute them. I think that’s a safe mindset to have on arrival, especially in a small plane.