A little closer to the stars

On Saturday, after flying a Piper Comanche from Midland to Schlemeyer Field (20 miles?), I had a brief ground school class with my instructor.  We covered airspace types and he gave me a pre-solo quiz.  During the training he got a call from a pilot services client who wanted to be accompanied to Dallas Love Field in his Cirrus SR22.  My instructor then told me "if you can be at Love Field tomorrow at noon, you can fly an SR22 back to Midland".  Well, no problem there.

Arriving at Love Field on a Southwest 737

Sunday at 10:45 am, I boarded a Southwest 737 for the short (1 hr, 5 min) bunny hop to Dallas Love Field.  10 minutes after arrival, my instructor picked me up in an FBO courtesy car and we went for lunch at La Madeleine's, in Dallas' prestigious Preston Hollow neighborhood.  It was super-humid in Dallas, which I've never visited except to drive through, and stopovers at DFW.  Preston Hollow is an upscale area, everything reminding me of Houston and River Oaks.  Lovely, vibrant, full of life -- in a way that Midland is not.

My ride back

Cirrus SR22, 4-seater, air-cooled 300 hp 6-cylinder engine

Plane on Love Field with Dallas skyline (vague) in background

After lunch, Josh filed our flight plan by phone and back to our FBO at Love Field we drove.  The SR22 is a lovely plane, the outer skin shiny like a new car.  Because planes are expensive to buy, people keep them flying a long time -- many trainers date from the 60's or 70's, like the (awesome) late-60's Comanche I flew on Saturday.  The SR22 is nearly new.  It is a 4-seater, single-engine, high-performance plane, with a ~300 hp 6-cylinder engine, air-cooled of course.  It has an automatic mechanical variable-pitch propeller and non-retractable landing gear, meaning it is not a "highly complex aircraft". This particular non-turbocharged model is capable of cruising around 165 knots airspeed (190 mph ground speed in still air).  I took the left seat and after engine start, pre-flight check, and many communications with ground control (handled by my instructor), I taxied out onto the massively wide, super-long, 747-accommodating runway at Dallas Love Field.  Full power is flying power, we slowly moved down the runway, wiggling a little side to side as I got the hang of the rudders.  Pulling back on the elevator, back pressure, feel the controls get mushy, pull back a little more, quiet, we're flying.  Up, up, up like you're being lifted by an invisible hand.  It is not like climbing in a commercial jet; instead, it feels like rising in a hot air balloon or an elevator, like going straight up but with the plane horizontal.  Air traffic control (ATC) (or somebody -- there are 3 or 4 levels of control we talked to before, during and after takeoff) gave us a new heading and I gently turned to it, heading west.

Our flight was IFR -- an instrument flight rating trip.  This meant we were cleared to fly through clouds, because we were being tracked by radar and given commands by ATC.  Due to this, we were flying several straight-line segments rather than flying directly to Midland as we would try to do on a VFR, or visual flight rule, trip.  The SR22 has a very sophisticated glass-panel instrument system which guided me to help stay at the desired altitude and heading, which I still failed to do.  Josh adjusted the throttle and fuel mixture to get an ideal, efficient cruising speed of about 140 knots indicated (~160 mph).  I controlled the plane and did occasional radio transmissions, which are oddly difficult (due, I think, to fear of messing up, which of course I did plenty).

Along we went, heading west at about 6000' above sea level (ASL).  All around us were billowing towers of fluffy white clouds -- future thunderstorms by the looks of them.  In IFR flight we were supposed to stay at our assigned altitude (6000') plus or minus 100'.  I found this challenging, and we yo-yoed along, going up then down, up again... Level at about 6000', we plunged straight through clouds, losing visibility in the grey mist for a few moments before popping out into brightly-lit valleys in the clouds.  Several times we just clipped the top wisps of a fluffy cloud.  It was a joyous experience to be piloting a plane through this fluffy cotton wonderland.  Halfway through the journey we requested and received permission to go up to 8000' ASL, which we did, but we still didn't clear the cloud tops.  Josh flipped through the XM stations and handled the radio communications, and tried to show me how to adjust the trim to keep the "dynamically stable" plane on a somewhat level course, which I never mastered.

Playing in the clouds.  Blur is the propeller.

The most unflattering picture of me ever; piloting the SR22

Glass instrument panels, with some standard instruments below (thankfully)

In clouds, I stared straight down at the instrument panel without looking outside.  Even with a bright color display showing  the exact orientation of the plane, I felt disoriented and slightly dizzy, like I was losing my feeling of where "up" was.  I can see how flying into clouds as a VFR pilot is often does not end well.  When out of the clouds, I tried to look outside as much as possible - which is a good VFR habit, because in VFR it is solely the pilot's job to watch for other aircraft.  In IFR flight, ATC was watching out for us, as we often couldn't see outside at all due to being surrounded by a cloud.  Several times I looked down to see the passing Texan countryside.  I saw Abilene and noted that we were roughly following I-20 on its course from Dallas-Fort Worth to Midland-Odessa.

The ground down there

About 20 miles from Midland International, Josh asked if I wanted to land or handle radio communications.  I took the latter, because I'm more intimidated by the radio!  Also, landing (and even flying) this plane may not really help me much when flying the Diamond 20, which is the plane I normally fly and will be FAA-tested in.  As I handed the plane over to Josh, he commented that he was amazed I had hand-flown the plane (without autopilot) the entire way from Dallas to Midland, with only a few ten-second breaks while I took a photo or while Josh showed me something.  He said most students go to autopilot after 20 or 30 minutes.  I admit, I was tired by the end of my ~2 hours piloting the plane.  It takes so much brain attention, especially for a beginner like me.  It consumes a tremendous amount of energy.  There was also the wow-factor, trying to drink in the experience. It was almost too much to take in, and I feel like I'm still processing it now, over 24 hours later, waiting for it to hit me.  Writing this blog is useful because I get to replay the facts and emotions of the experience in my mind, further cementing and allowing reflection.

Looking back, this flight from Dallas to Midland was one of the highlights of my life.  Maybe that explains why I've been exhausted ever since and napping in the evening despite getting 8 hours regular sleep.  Try having your brain and all your senses 100% on and 100% wide-open for almost three hours, knowing your life is on the line and you and actually, really, for real soaring through the clouds, and you can go anywhere you want.  It is the ultimate feeling of freedom, bound only by nature's laws; supported entirely by man's understanding and application of those laws.

PA-24 Piper Commanche

Bunny Hop:

Today I got to fly a Piper Comanche from Midland Int'l airport to little Odessa Schlemeyer field (ODO).  I met my instructor at the GA (General Aviation) part of MAF airport.  And we did a quick pre-flight.  Nearby were parked several Black Hawk helicopters, and right next to us a Navy training prop plane was doing some type of very extended pre-flight or ground test, or something.

PA-24.  A late 60's/early 70's plane.  Note Blackhawk helicopters in background!

The PA-24 is a pretty big 4-seater.  It is a high-performance (>200 hp) and high-complexity plane (flaps, retractable landing gear, and variable-pitch propeller).  We started the plane and called into several layers of ground traffic and air traffic control.  I couldn't understand what they were saying, so Josh handled most of that.  We were then cleared to taxi, which I did.  The big Comanche was much, much easier to steer (with foot pedals) than the touchy Diamond 20 I normally fly.  It was a pleasant plane.  We approached our approved runway and stopped just short of it to do our "run-up", which are some tests before actually taking off.  We sat there a little while, finicking with the magnetos -- it seemed like one cylinder was not firing correctly.  Then the tower came on and told us there was a 737 waiting behind us!!!  Sure enough, as I turned out onto the runway I saw a big blue, red and gold Southwest 737 right behind us!  That was a thrill.  Full throttle and we gained speed, pulled back on the elevator until it felt mushy, then the hush as we left the ground and took to the sky.  Taking off feels weird to me, like we are climbing at a very steep rate or, rather, being lifted into the sky.  Not long after taking off the tower told us to turn left to heading 2-3-0, and I complied, with full knowledge there was a 737 coming right after me!  We headed off toward ODO and circled around the airport to get a landing into the wind.  Josh controlled the throttle, propeller pitch, and flaps as I focused on the three directional controls -- that is, aiming toward the runway.  31-knot gusting crosswinds -- wow.

This is a big stinkin' plane!

After the flight I had a huge headache.  We taxied to the plane's hangar and put it away with a neat power thing that looked kinda like a lawnmower with one big wheel.  Then back to the airport main building (lounge?) to do some pre-solo ground school.  I need my medical certificate, then I will be able to solo... soon.  In the meantime, we will do some cross-country flying; first to Midland and then to Andrews?  In a few weeks I want to fly the Diamond 20 down to Terlingua, check out my land, and fly around the National Park. That will be a big adventure!

So will my next adventure... I'll be flying to Dallas tomorrow on Southwest and flying a Cirrus back to Midland.  Very exciting times.

Safe on the ground at ODO.

Seventh Lesson

Today was my seventh flight lesson at Schlemeyer Field in Odessa, TX.  It was the most stressful and least fun so far.  Takes-offs, pattern, and landing.  Brisk wind from the east.  Runway 11.  Take-off is ok, I still have trouble steering (feet -- rudders) and putting correct back-pressure on elevator.  If you try to take off too soon (slow), you can stall and crash back into the runway.  ODO is a left-hand pattern so we turn left, left, left and do on the downwind leg past the airport.  I can see it off to my left.  Past the end of the runway a way, turn left (base), then left again.  "Schlemeyer traffic, 497 Papa Alpha final for runway one-one."  Full flaps, judge how high, full flaps in.  Today we came in a little slow most of the time.  Strong headwind makes for a steep descent to the runway.  I have trouble with the last 20 vertical feet.  So much is going on, and so much can go wrong.  I flare too early -- that is, I point the nose up too soon to slow down and descend to the runway.  Flaring slows the plane down a lot, and eventually it will crash down to the runway vertically - not good.  I had some ok landings but I'm trying to bring everything together and it isn't "automatic" yet.  It takes too much brain power and one thing going awry takes away my attention from everything else -- not good.  A frustrating lesson, but that makes me think I'm learning and it might be better next time.  Discussed a cross-country trip with my instructor down to Laquitas and over my Big Bend property.

This was my first flight (piloting) in over a week - lots going on this week.  I did get to fly (as a passenger) to Carlsbad on the company's Beechcraft King Air 350.

This cute little plane was parked outside the airport office.  It's an Encoupe or something like that.  A 2-seater that is pretty cheap to buy.  Like ~$10-15k.

Andy's Ranch

Over Easter weekend, I finally decided to make the trip down to my land on Terlingua Ranch.  It was Sabkha and me in the Tacoma.  We left on Thursday before Good Friday, around 7 PM.  I passed most of the burned stuff (near Alpine, TX) after dusk, but I could see burned grass at the edge of the road.  Also just south of I-10 I saw a big plume of smoke coming off the northern end of the Davis Mountains.  Not sure my planning was that great, as we arrived in the Study Butte area well after dark.  I turned onto South County Road with only my memory of my single trip to my land to guide me.  Well, that and a couple hours of exploring the Solitario district on Google Maps.  We managed to find it despite the very dark moonless evening.  There isn't a great pullout on my property -- road just crosses it parallel to a dry wash -- so I continued on and parked at the property just to the north.  The night was hot and windy.  Donning my headlamp, I could see clouds of dust whirling past in the LED light.  All around me were glittering gems on the ground -- I knew from experience these were spider's eyes.  Sure enough, I tracked one to the source and found a big wolf-spider but with a pointy wasp-like butt -- ewwwww.  Creep out city.  It was around 11 PM.  I set up our beds in the bed of the truck and we went to sleep.

In the earliest light of morning, Sabkha was nudging me and licking my face to wake me up.  This is her typical camping-out behavior.  I got up to see a gorgeous sunrise over the Chisos Mountains in Big Bend National Park.  The dome-shaped mountain in the middleground is Pink's Peak.

The night was cool enough for a sleeping bag, but the day warmed up quickly.  Worst, it was humid and felt yucky even at 7 am.  It has that Tucson-monsoon feeling, where you could tell it was going to be a hot, unpleasant day and the mere thought of that ruined the morning, too.  

Sabkha and I set off on a surveying walk.  We first found the NW corner of the property, where I found a professional survey marker.  Was my tract surveyed previously?  Or one of the other three tracts that meet at this corner?  I walked back east, following a due E-W line according to my GPS, and making cairns along the way to mark the property boundary.  

I had the strange sensation of looking at beautiful Chihuahuan desert plants and cool volcanic rocks and thinking "I own those!".  Then, looking around at the vast landscape, I realized it didn't really matter to anyone but me.  The plants and rocks certainly didn't care... and the rocks will be sitting there long after I'm gone.

Down the hill and across the road to the east, down into the wash, up the next hillside we found the NE corner.  There was no survey marker, but a pile of rocks and about twenty pieces of flagging tied into a creosote bush.  The northing was off from the NW corner.  Either the tracts and not square, or the edges do not run true E-W, or I was using a different projection, or something.  But it was only a few tens of feet off.

It was time for a break.  We went into town for some coffee and breakfast at Espresso y Poco Mas, my favorite Terlingua morning place despite the new, higher prices.  A nice place to sit, eat, sit, and browse the web on the free wifi.  The drive in or out on the best route (not shortest but fastest route) is 30 minutes driving at normalish speed.  It would be tough to shorten the drive much from that without driving crazily.  After bfast we went back to Andy's Ranch.  The drive is fun and scenic.  It is not Miata-able, but it is Subaru-able.  4WD is not required, and normal clearance could do it, likely with no damage to the car.  There are a few steep, rocky parts though.

Back at Andy's Ranch, the next order of business was a parking spot.  I found a pull-off that had been used by a bulldozer, probably over a decade ago.  It went steeply up the hill over a rocky "step" in the Cretaceous limestone.  With the shovel I cleared all the lechuigilla and trimmed back a few creosote bushes.  Then, in 4-Lo I was able to inch the truck up over the rock shelf and onto a parking area.  Not as flat as I'd like, but it works for now.  I was tempted to keep going up the hill to the top, but the vegetation would certainly wreck my P-rated tires.  Plus I really don't want a road to the top.

My little parking spot on Andy's Ranch

Next I made a few cairns where my (approx) property boundary crossed the road, and I hunted for fossils a bit.  I found a cool nautilus cast, but threw it aside, thinking it wasn't that great.  Then of course I found nothing like it again, and I couldn't locate the original find.  Maybe next time.  It was nice to be able to collect rocks or fossils and not worry about getting arrested by some park ranger.  

Road across Andy's Ranch

After a break and a cold beer or two, I set out to find the SW corner.  This involved hiking to the top of Andy's Ridge and down the west side, almost to the base.  It was getting pretty hot and Sabkha was hanging out under the truck, and didn't look too well.  Panting, lethargic.  She didn't seem interested in joining me on the search for SW corner, so I left her there, untied in case she changed her mind.  Halfway up the loose rock of the hillside, I saw Sabkha below me, crossing the hillside, going away from me and the truck.  She often finds her own way up, so I didn't think much of it.  On top, I get good cell coverage so I checked my work email, and called my parents.  On top I saw some large chunks of unidentified scat.  Big mountain lion?  I'll have to snap a photo and see what the Llano Estacado Master Nats think.  About this time I realized I still hadn't seen Sabkha.  Concerned for her, I went back east down the hill (without finding the SW corner).  A few times I heard yelps, but wasn't sure.  Then I saw Sabkha, in the middle of a bunch of cacti, tail between her legs and not looking happy.  She clearly had had a seizure and fallen into the cacti.  I grabbed her out and she went into her seizure mode.  She kept sitting on cacti like it didn't hurt her.  I walked/carried/dragged her back to the truck.  The episode upset me.  It was getting hot, and the only cool place was the truck with the A/C running.  I piled her in and we went out for a drive, exploring some of the less-trodden roads of Terlingua Ranch.  

The next day, Saturday, we got up early again and walked some of the ranch roads near my property.  I found the SE corner of the tract, also professionally marked, and made more cairns along boundaries.  It was again too hot to do much, and I was still worried about Sabkha, so we again went into the Ghost Town for breakfast and internet.  Then we drove over to the national park, back to Study Butte and toward TR HQ, across on dirt from 118 to US 385.   Then back north on 385. 

A recent mass-wasting deposit along US 385 in BB National Park