BARNSTORMING!
My Travel Buddy!
After I returned
home from my stint in the US ARMY, I started
taking flying lessons,
working towards a Commercial License. I
bought a Cessna 150 and took
instruction in it. One spring, I flew
from San Diego County,
California to Grants Pass, Oregon, on a
mission for my father. I did
not accomplish what was hoped for,
but I did resolve matters. I first
debated driving the distance of
about 800 miles of mostly boring,
familiar freeway. I did not relish
that. Since the weather was
perfect for the trip except for Coastal
Low Clouds and Fog, I elected
to FLY. It was a trip with some
great experiences and I made some
surprising new friends.
My Pilot Log Book
shows I landed at Fresno Air Terminal on the
first leg of the flight.
Since I carried four hours of fuel on board,
Fresno was a logical
choice. However, the distance between
airports remaining from there,
meant two SHORT hops and one
longer one was needed. I opted for
Modesto for the next stop, and
from there to Siskiyou Airport near the
Oregon Border.
A Northern California Community with its Airport.
Now Siskiyou Airport
is a County field, but it was a “joint-use facility” with the US
Air Force back then. So, I ended up dealing
with an Air Force
Controller. The Airport was used for all kinds of
flight operations
in a remote area for AF pilots who got their
required monthly flying
time in there.
As I crested the
pass between Mt. Shasta and the Trinity Alps,
visibility was more
than 50 miles. The airport was easy to find,
but the air turned very
bumpy beyond the crest, and I was held
busy keeping the airplane
flying straight and level.
I tuned in the tower
frequency to see what
was happening there and soon learned the
winds were straight down the
runway from the south at 25 knots!
In other words, it was WINDY. They
had one of those large B52
type aircraft in the pattern doing
touch-and-goes. I was evaluating
what my options were. Large aircraft
are a danger to all planes
because of wing-vortex winds known as
“wake turbulence.” The
tanker was doing a left hand pattern which
kept him to the east of
the field. He lifted off fairly early for a
heavy plane and then
circled back for another approach. It was
obvious I could AVOID
the whole turbulence issue by flying a
straight-in approach with a
hefty tailwind. The winds worked to my
advantage by keeping the
“wakes” moving to the north! My skill
level at the time easily
allowed for this option. I had not yet
received my Commercial
License but was within a dozen hours of
qualifying. I radioed the
tower to advise them of my position and
aircraft type. I was
pushing a ground speed at the time of 130,
selling off my altitude
in the rough air. I requested a straight-in
approach, mentioning
my concern about wake turbulence and that I was
willing to
coordinate approach times. I was cleared to land
(...“wheels down
and locked!” the controller said! Cessna 150’s
do not have a
retractable gear! That was apparently standard AF
procedure.)
The big boy extended his down-wind a bit and I had clear
sailing.
Getting the craft slowed down took some doing, and
eventually I
added 20 degrees of flaps for the landing. It was too
bumpy for
full flaps but it turned into a smooth operation with the
big boy
landing minutes later in the OPPOSITE direction as planned. I
gassed my plane, rested a bit before tackling the remaining
hour to Grants Pass. When I spotted the big fellow off the ground I
requested
to taxi to the midpoint of the runway, and I would take
off from
there. Normally one does not do that, but the deciding
factor in my
decision was the strong southerly wind and the
guarantee of no
“wake.” I was cleared for a midpoint takeoff, did
so, and was
airborne in seconds. I requested a right-turn climbing
departure,
received it, and wished them all a good day.
Thompson Creek Airstrip. Can you spot the grass runway??!
At Grants Pass, I
gassed again, and inquired about using
the Thompson Creek Airstrip,
which was my eventual
destination. The neat grass strip is no longer
used. It was a
one-way field at the time and could be tricky! It was
just
a few feet from where we lived when I entered the military,
so
this was a great piece of luck for me in completing
my reason for
going.
Today, several
ranches in the area keep their own planes and
active runways in more
suitable locations nearby. I looked
the place over before deciding my
approach. Once I was
sure I could land, I returned to Grants Pass to
top off my
fuel for the eventual trip south. I also talked to pilots
familiar
with the strip for any additional tips.
Left-hand landing pattern with arrow showing the grass runway.
Since I had never
landed at Thompson Creek Airstrip before,
I opted NOT to land
up-canyon with the unfamiliar terrain and
tail-wind. The windsock
indicated up-canyon winds from the N/W,
so down-slope was the logical
approach! A good rule here was
early morning operation, landing
uphill and only takeoff to the
north. Taking off to the south was
always a no-go because of the
high hills and mountains in the way. If
you cannot out-fly the
terrain, it can be a deadly gamble. I landed
in the afternoon, so
uphill landing was iffy. There could be no
go-around. Our photos
tell the story of how my flight operation was
conducted here, and
shows the landing using a left-hand traffic
pattern. Basically, I
followed the terrain, cleared the trees and
dropped down onto the
grass.
As I rolled to a
stop to secure my plane, a house across
Thompson Creek emptied of
people, Two adults and a mess
of kids came running across the creek
see who this
“barnstormer” was! The kids wanted to see the
cockpit with all
its instruments, sit in the cockpit and so on. They
were a very
nice family. I told them my mission and next thing I
knew, I was
invited for dinner! I had planned to camp under the plane
in my sleeping bag, but they would not hear of it, and so I
spent the
night in their warm house instead! What a neat
visit it was. Trying
to get the kids to go to bed was a challenge
for the adults. Just too
much excitement and too many
stories to tell!
The next morning I
gave a ride as a reward. I made a solo take-off
first, to familiarize
myself with the grass strip. Then I took the
father in the family up.
He had never seen the place from this
perspective and he was
thrilled. Carrying extra weight meant a
longer take-off run to clear
the trees at the end of the runway.
When our visit concluded, I said
my goodbyes and prepared to
start the engine again.
A Random photograph of the Oregon Cascades!
It would not start!
Oh, the starter
turned all-right, but the starter clutch would not
engage the
propeller! I could not find anything wrong in the
engine. There were
no oil leaks or any obvious signs of troubles!
So I went back to the
tried-and-true method of HAND-
PROPPING the engine. I set the brakes,
cracked the throttle a bit
and hand-pulled the prop through its
cycle. First time it did not
catch. The second time was full contact.
I jumped in the plane to
manage the engine. I waved goodbye to my
hosts and taxied
to the end of the runway. All along, I checked to
make sure
I did not have any other issues. Engine run-up was normal,
the magnetos checked out and there was no carburetor
icing. The takeoff was normal, I cleared the trees and when safe to
do so, I
made a 360 degree turn, climbed above the scattered low
clouds and
the Greyback Mountains and began my trip south!
The way it turned
out, I had to prop the airplane on each landing
til I got home so my
mechanic could deal with the problem. It
was a minor clutch issue, as
it turned out.
Clearing the Low Clouds and clearing the Greybacks!
I left Thompson
Creek as early as the low clouds would permit.
Once airborne, I filed
my VFR flight plan with the local Flight
Service for my first
destination, Ukiah, California. The route of
flight took me over the
Trinity Alps, one of the most remote areas
in the USA. The pictures
show the sights. It was very much a
“Lone Ranger” type of flight.
No-one around for miles…..
Eventually the harsh mountain landscape
became more rolling. I
passed the Yolla Bolla Wilderness (yes, that
is what it is called!)
and settled into a seeing a softer landscape.
The morning low
clouds had dissipated. The flight took a little more
than two-and-
one-half hours of smooth sailing.
The Greybacks looking South to the Coastal Fog and Low Clouds!
Ukiah, California is
in the wine country of Mendocino and is a
TYPICAL California scene
with Oak trees, Madrone Trees
(unique to the area) and chaparral
hillsides. The airport was an
easy find, I refueled and spent some
time relaxing. I was not in a
hurry and kept myself well-watered and
fed! I propped the plane
again!
Marble Mountain Wilderness in the Trinty Alps!
An Alpine Lake in the Trinity Alps!
The next planned
stop was Paso Robles, a scenic town on the
Central California Coast
south of San Francisco. Crossing the
Golden Gate was a sight. Not
many get to fly over the bridge that
close to the water. But I stayed
clear of the San Francisco Airport
traffic pattern and headed south
along the coast to Big Sur. I
avoided the military restricted area as
I moved south. Eventually
Paso Robles came into sight almost three
hours later. It was now
late afternoon. I made this a serious
rest-stop, planning to fly
direct to my home base at Fallbrook. The
timing meant I would be
landing after dusk and I planned for an
alternate airport in the
event Fallbrook was not usable due to
landing lights not working
or due to fog and low clouds. I propped
the plane for the last
time!
The trip south from Paso Robles was nice. The late afternoon sun
gave
a certain glow to the hillsides of the Los Padres National
Forest.
Once while I was looking around for other aircraft, I was
surprised
to see one pass a few hundred feet below me headed
in a southwest
direction! It woke me up to the fact that even
in visual flying, one
cannot be careful enough. Mid-air
collisions are rare, but can happen
if two pilots do not see each
other! I did not want to be “the rare
one!”
Dusk fell, and night
along with it. Once I cleared the crest of the
mountains, the entire
Los Angeles Basin lay before me with
millions of lights! It was
breathtaking. I flew at about 10,000 feet
over LAX, and could see the
planes landing and taking off below.
Eventually, I cleared the basin
as well as Orange County to the
south.
At last it was time
for the decent to my home airport at Fallbrook.
I sold off the
altitude with nose down, increased speed and less
power and lost all
the lights of the city as they passed behind
me. My concern now was
the coastal low clouds. They had
already formed along the water, but
had not seriously invaded
inland. Below two thousand feet, the smell
of moisture
penetrated the cabin, and I looked for the landing lights
marking
the short 2000 foot runway. My eyes slowly became accustomed
to the darkness. Since I was very familiar with the area, I found
the lights fairly easy and focused on them. I was high, so I
added 40 degrees of flaps and idled the engine.
The landing approach
was very normal, my landing lights lit up
the runway, I touched down
beyond the threshold and rolled
to a short stop. I taxied to the
turnoff then taxied further to my
hanger to secure the airplane.
I was home again,
the adventure was over!
Written and photographed by
Harald Hesstvedt Scharnhorst
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