Tuesday, January 30, 2024

BARNSTORMING!

 

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, 

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 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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