Davis Mountains: Night of the Coon, Day of the Javalina

"Please tell me I'm going!"

Davis Mountains State Park.  Driving south from I-20 in Pecos, you can see mountains ahead.  Dark hazy shapes.  We left on Friday night after work.  If you leave on Saturday, it makes the weekend seem quite short.  So you gotta leave on Friday.  It's much easier to camp with the pop-up camper versus a tent; much of the stuff we need stays in the camper.  Extra dishes, towels, basic foodstuffs.  Toss in perishable food, pillows, sleeping bags, R/C helicopters and we're ready to go.  My friend Ben moved here from Houston and is staying in Odessa in company housing.  He left before us and was 15 miles ahead in his white Ford Ranger 3.0.  He said he was going 55 mph so we would catch up going 70-75.  I had just installed the "Snapshot" device on my Tacoma.  It's from Progressive and it keeps track of how far you drive, when, how fast, and how often you do "hard braking".

Driving to the Davis Mountains with "On-ya"

It's around 2-1/2 hours to the state park, maybe 3, from Midland... pulling a camper.  During the day you can drive faster, 80 mph on I-20 once you're well past Odessa... soon to be 85.  At night it drops to 65 mph.  Boo!  I finally got a durable case for my iPad so Mary was able to play around on that. Need to download more games and movies for her to watch.  Amazing to me how quickly old technology is rendered obsolete... just a year ago we were looking to buy Mary a portable DVD player for use in the car but we were put off by the three-hour battery life and limited usefulness outside the car.  Now for twice the price you get a multi-functional tablet computer with 10-11 hours battery life, a goofy photo-booth camera, and forget about DVDs.

It was quite dark of course when rolled into the state park.  We proceeded to our assigned, really nice camping spot with electricity, at the end of a campground cul-de-sac.  The pop-up went up with the turn of a crank and I pulled out the tent and sleeping bag I was loaning Ben, and tossed them in his general direction.  Debi has a bunch of strings of Christmas lights she drapes around camp.  She really got into the "RV" camping spirit when they lived in Houston, and she's brought that along with her to west Texas.  After setting up camp, it felt chilly and we all donned jackets and did normal camp stuff, sat in collapsible camp chairs, drank some tea or beer or something.  It was late and pretty soon we all turned in.

El Campo en Montanas Davis

During the night our camp experienced Animal Encounter One, when a pack of ravenous raccoons lept into the back of my truck (or swung down from the trees; not sure) and ate most of Anna's dog food (this was Anna's first camping trip with us--Ed.).  The 'coons also scratched at, and sat on, Ben's bunch of bananas which were on the picnic table in the campsite.

Coon-scarred nanners

The night was cold.  I'm sure Ben was freezing in my old "+20 F" sleeping bag.  It's finally getting to the point that I've had many of my things for 10+ years.  I've had my EMS 4-season tent for over 12 years, and have probably spent close to 200 nights in it.  The sleeping bag I've had a few years longer.  I'm a cold sleeper, so I figure a new +20F bag is really good down to +40F.  Add 20 degrees.  And then add, say, 10F for every five years of the bag's life, because washing it reduces the loft factor of the insulation.  20+20+10+10.... so the bag is really only good down to +60F.  Sorry Ben.

Meanwhile, in the pop-up, we were not laying on the cold ground and we had an electric space heater going. I think I was sweating all night in my "+0F" down sleeping bag.  Which is good to about +50F.  Guess I should've loaned that one to Ben...

Brought us right back to our post-Turkey morning in Frankfurt...

On Saturday morning we were treated to an English camping breakfast: a pound of bacon (precooked weight... one gram after cooking), "Ready-brek" porridge, Tetley tea in round bags, eggs.  It was deelish.  Soon I got out my new toys -- R/C electric helicopters and an R/C truck.  The first helicopter I bought from Toys "R" Us (for Mary) is a beat-up wreck.  It lost its tail rotor in one of the first horrific crashes.  The tail rotor allows the 'copter to move forward and backward.  After this loss the helicopter was far less maneuverable and far more fun.  As pieces of the machine have snapped off from dozens of brutal, gut-wrenching crashes from 30+ feet, usually onto the hood of my car, the 'copter has become progressively lighter.  Every bit that snaps off increases the power-to-weight ratio, until this beat-up wreck is a pretty powerful flying machine.  Sure, I bought it for Mary, but like most toys with an on and off switch, the "boys" play with it much more.  Ben and I spent about half an hour flying it as high as possible outdoors and crashing, usually onto the hood of my convertible.  Never mind that this hood represents only 1% of possible crash surface space.  Also never mind the 10 minute battery life.  More like 30 minutes once you hack off all the unnecessary parts.  Anyway, I bought two more helicopters from Amazon.com for about half the price, and they are much better-built and fly better, too.  But not outdoors.  Sunlight messes up the IR beam used to control the 'copters.  Still, we had lots of fun playing "catch the copter" with Mary.  Her favorite trick is to wait until you catch the falling machine and then go to full power in an attempt to chop off fingers.

Flight of the Finger Chopper

Starting off on the Three Mile Hike

Indian Lodge from afar

The day was warming up quickly so we decided to take a hike right as the hottest part of the day arrived.  Up the hill we went, with nice views of the little valley where the campgrounds are situated, and of the surrounding hills and mountains to the south.  Maybe not as gorgeous, deserted, breathtaking and soul-wrenching as some of the vistas in Arizona or other points west, but a really pretty place.  We hiked about three miles up the hill, down the ridge and eventually to Indian Lodge.  Along the way we discovered that while Sabkha liked to chase deer and rabbits, Anna prefers to chase butterflies.  She inherited Sab's shock collar and we got to use it a little to get her to come back after an extended butterfly-chase episode.

"Tenderfoot Anna"

"Desert Debi"

The Golden Hills of Texas

Discussing geology

Indian Lodge

Debi poses with Anna

At Indian Lodge we lounged around a bit.  I sat outside with Anna (aka On-ya, because she always is) while everyone else took a look at this very cool structure.  Back to camp and then into the truck to drive to the ridgetop that overlooks Fort Davis, fort and town.  On the ridge we got cell signal so Ben and I checked work messages.  Then we drove into town to get ice cream.  For the first time ever, the restaurant/ice cream store across from the Limpia Hotel dining room was open.  Sweet tooths satisfied, we went back to camp to gather our things for the McDonald Observatory Star Party.  Pulling into camp, we could see that a Garbage Bomb had been exploded near the popup.  It took only milliseconds to realize we had been visited by a pack of javalina, and someone (me) had left a box of food out.

They're gooey s'mores on the inside!

Wide open spaces

Mary, rock collector, future geologist/animal scientist/dog groomer

The Star Party was cool.  We got a brief description of some of the constellations and then an hour and a half to line up to look through some telescopes.

Sunday morning, after another cool night (freezing for Ben), Ben headed home for various Sunday obligations.  We stayed on, flying the R/C helicopters, riding bikes a little, playing Uno.  As departure time approached, Mary and I took Anna for a walk to tire her out for the ride home.  It worked -- Anna can run in circles in the backyard at full speed all day, but a one-mile walk has her pretty tuckered out.  She slept most of the way back home.

And to think, we did it all with zero hard brakes!

Anna

This is Anna, the our new family dog.  I signed the adoption paperwork for Anna on Friday before Labor Day weekend.  Then we went off camping in the mountains while poor Anna had to stay in the pound, waiting for her surgery on Wednesday.  At 5:00 PM I arrived at Midland Animal Control to pick up our new family member!  She was groggy and obviously in pain, but very sweet and calm.  She seemed happy to be lifted into the backseat of my truck and driven home.  She wouldn't sit down and eventually worked her front paws onto the center console.  When we got home and I got out of the truck, Anna jumped into my seat and exited via the driver's door.  Ok!

Over the holiday weekend, Debi, Mary and I had a lengthy brainstorm session to find a name for our new white dog.  I originally called her "Whitey" but this clearly was not suitable as a permanent moniker.  The runner-up name was "Talcum", suggested by Debi, but we decided it was too awkward to say.  "Anna" just seemed to fit, and it stuck, so Anna it is: I've already ordered the collar tags.

Anna is an English Setter mix.  She is about one year old, I think maybe a little less.  She is mostly house-trained and seems to have been someone else's dog.  She begs at the table and knows how to sit.  Anna is extremely skinny to the point of looking starved.  She isn't so fond of dry dog food, but she does like meatballs.  I might make her a few meals this weekend to fatten her up a bit.

I really miss Sabkha, and there will never be another dog like her.  I thought Anna would help to fill that hole, but she hasn't.  She's a different dog, cute, sweet, and I'm sure that, given time, we will all love her very much.  But right now she does more to remind me how much I miss Sabkha.

In another three days or so, after her wounds heal, we can start to play fetch and other things with Anna.  For now we are trying to keep her still, although she likes to wander the house, sniffing, and searching for Toby the cat.  She also is a tick magnet so I spend time morning and night removing ticks from her fur.  She's a little bit too curious for Toby's taste -- he's not a fan of dogs.  Mary and I took Anna for a short walk this evening and she's definitely interested in other dogs, and even barked at some behind a fence.  Sabkha knew not to bark... unless someone rang the doorbell.

Finally, she eats something -- but not much 

 After surgery, resting on her dog bed

Exploring the yard.  Sabkha was a crazy hunter-chase dog; Anna seems more methodical.

Flight

I now have about 35 hours, about 30 of that in the Diamond 20 out of Schlemeyer in Odessa, TX.  I've done two cross-country flights with my instructor.  The first was to Alpine, TX then to Ft Stockton and back to KODO.  The second was to Lubbock then to Seminole and KODO, the last two legs at night.  Our last dual was from KODO to KMAF, Midland International.  A week later, today, I flew solo from ODO to MAF.  It went pretty well, with only one "say again" from me... and one misunderstanding corrected by ATC.  It was a blast!  I was very intimidated on the ground, and that made me realize this was something I needed to do -- fly solo into Class C airspace.  Intimidation = learning experience.  Who needs more pattern work or more maneuver practice (S turns, turn around a point, etc.?).  I love slow flight and stalls... it's always been the radio that gave me trouble -- and not too much trouble.  Last Friday Sabkha, for whom this blog is named, was put down by the vet.  I think a tribute blog is coming once I get over her a little more.

What's next in flight?  Another ride with Josh, then two solo cross-countries.  The first to Marfa (yay!) and Pecos and back.  The second, unknown.  My Private Pilot checkride and license is only a month or six weeks away, if I want it to be.  There's no hurry though.  I love to fly and it's fun to take lessons, why would I be in a rush?  After I get my Private Pilot certif, I aim to fly 50 hours solo x-country in the next 6-9 months.  Then I can go for an IFR rating, allowing me to fly in clouds.  After than another 250 hours or so and I can try for a commerical license.  Maybe, but that's a long ways off.  One step at a time.

Guads

Last weekend we headed to the Guadalupe Mountains, in southeast New Mexico, southwest of the town of Carlsbad.  Debi and Mary have been living out here in Midland for almost a month now, and this was our first big out-of-town trip.  We had almost everything packed up and ready to go on Thursday night, so we were ready to leave right after work on Friday.  Yeah right!  The last-minute things took another hour and a half, and we rolled out of the neighborhood in the Tacoma around 7 PM.  North then west, we dropped off the Llano Estacado and got into some rolling hills as we approached the Pecos.  Lots of rigs out there a-drillin'.  Around Carlsbad on the truck route and north on US 285 to the Guadalupe Scenic Byway, or 137.  By this time it was getting a bit dark and I was pressing on, not wanting to stop.  Whoops, I forgot there isn't any gas available up in the Guads.  Stopping along the way for a bathroom break for Sabkha and other passengers at a "Y" in the road, we could sense mountains around us and heard various oilfield activities - thumps and bumps and pumps in the night.  The Seven Rivers hills.  Finally up the "escarpment" and into the little non-town of Queen, NM.  We continued past to FR 540 and drove up to around 7000' ASL in the national forest.  The temps dropped rapidly, even more than I calculated using dry adiabatic gradient.  It was late, and dark, but we found a good camping spot and set up.  The stars were brilliant and we could see the Milky Way almost perfectly.  Still we could sense some light pollution fuzzing things up, but I could tell how it would really be if it was nice and clear.  It was that good.  Mary was still up like the crazy 7-year-old she is.  She quickly bored of me rattling off various space facts (the sun is 92 million miles from Earth... hundreds of billions of stars in our galaxy and hundreds of billions of galaxies... the Drake equation...).  There were a few clouds and we saw some lightning way off in the distance, but the night looked clear in our vicinity so we broke the "always put on the rain fly" rule.  We were camping in our big cheap Magellan tent.  Of course a few hours later it started to rain.  I normally would ignore the rain and keep sleeping, but wisely Debi wanted to get up and put on the rain fly that we foolishly had not put on earlier.  As we put the fly on the rain really started coming down, and we both got a bit wet but survived.  Back in the tent, sleeping, and soon the rain stopped.

Detail of limestone near camp

Saturday morning we all slept in due to our late night.  Mary actually got up first and shortly thereafter the rising sun heated the tent to unbearable levels.  The night had been a very pleasant sleeping-bag-required upper 60s, so 75 F in the tent felt toasty.  After breakfast we were ready to head out on a 4x4 adventure in the Tacoma, but I fretted about our 3/8 tank of fuel.  We drove the excellent-condition gravel FR 540 south toward McKittrick Canyon.  We had spectacular views of Dog Canyon and the Brokeoff Mountains to the west, and we could even see the big extinct volcanic vents north of Dell City.  Not to mention the low, long-looking green slope of the Sacramento Mountains to the north.  The gravel road became an ever-narrowing two-track started. We drove along, through mud and puddles and didn't see much besides trees.  Eventually we tired of the road and headed back without getting the grand views into McKittrick that I expected.  Maybe next time.

View (west) of Brokeoff Mountains from ridge above Dog Canyon

View (NW) of ubiquitous limestone cliffs, with the Sacramento Mountains ramp far away to the northwest.

Debi and Mary with the Texas Guads in the background

Back to Queen, we had lunch in the little cafe there, and continued down the mountain to Carlsbad to fuel up. About an hour drive one way.  Rather than 137 again we cut across on Dark Canyon Road, when I realized I'd been this way before with a ConocoPhillips field trip.  The real tip-off was the man-chair suspended on a wire used for crossing a creek and checking the water level.

Carlsbad was hot, and under construction.  Queen was 72 F but down in the Pecos Valley it was 102 F and felt every degree of it.  We wandered a bit, finding a nice park on Carlsbad lake right in town.  Mary burned herself on the playground equipment.

Lake Carlsbad?

Filled up on gas and not long after were on our way back to the mountains.  Back up Dark Canyon and up the cool incline of the escarpment.  Now with a full tank we did some 4x4 driving around a loop I'd driven before.  Got out and did some short hikes.  Lots of flat-lying limestone, but some sandstone blocks spotted at our camp on 540.

Recent scouring down to bedrock

The road crossed these lovely canyons

On the way up the mountain we were entertained by a number of active and forming rain storms.  Back at camp we were treated to the brightest double rainbow I've ever seen.  Mary and I set off to find the end of the rainbow (gold, leprechauns, three wishes).  It didn't take long walking through the juniper "forest" until we couldn't see the camp or the road or anything.  It's really pretty to just wander around among the trees.  We had our 2-way radios, so when dinner was ready Debi called us back to camp.  We had no luck reaching the end of the rainbow due to it moving away every time it seemed we were getting close to it.

Camp

Got back to camp early for a dinner of black beans and ravioli and poking around camp.  Black beans never tasted so good.  Mary found an anthill to poke at, and we went for a walk looking for animals.

As night fell, we saw a number of big rainy-looking storms around, but overhead was clear.  We left the fly on and went to bed around 10 PM.  About a half-hour later the rain began, and it didn't waste any time becoming a downpour.  It was hard to sleep with all the pitter patter.  That's when the real downpour started, and then the lighting.  The first bolts were about four seconds away, and kept moving closer, to three seconds, then two, then less than two.  Debi and I discussed relocating everyone to the truck, through the pouring rain, and we executed the maneuver.  Nothing like the cozy feeling of being in a vehicle with storm and pouring rain outside, starting it up and knowing in a few minutes you'll be warm and dry.

The lightning stopped right after we got into the truck, and the rain quit a few minutes later.  Back to our soggy tent.

Spider hole near camp - dozens of mini baby spiders inside!

Rescuing Sabkha from branches in a wash.  Might be her last camping trip.

Sunday morning we were up bright and early.  The waterlogged stove didn't want to start.  The truck nearly got stuck leaving the campsite.  We set off to find another 4x4 adventure on the forest roads south of Queen. We quickly found more than we'd bargained for.

After a couple of wrong turns leading to dead ends, we found our way deep into the limestone canyons.  The road was mostly fine 2WD road, with some bumpy rocks.  Down, down we went until finally the road was in the bottom of a narrow canyon.  The road consisted of a jumble of large rocks and "steps" that looked too big to handle.  Thankfully we maneuvered the truck through with just one significant "bump" on the bottom of the truck. No pictures of our "close call" as we drove across a muddy hillside at a crazy angle, with a 6-foot dropoff into a rocky creekbed on the low side.  Debi and Mary were busy standing outside of the truck, directing me.

Wildlife

We stopped for several hikes in the fairly cool 72 F weather, but really the sun made it feel hotter.  The pictures look like fall, and there was just a touch of fall in the air.  The days and getting shorter and the sun can't keep up these 100+ temps forever.

Stair steps in the canyon

Mary, rock climber

 Heading home to the flatlands of the Llano Estacado

After our 4x4 adventures were over we scampered into Queen and to Tips Mountain Store, which serves up Sunday brunch 11-3.  Brisket, tea, beans, salad, brownies.  Back on the road to the flatlands... over the Pecos and onto the Llano.  How many more 100 degree days?  How long until we're back in the Guads?

The Super Weekend

It was a busy weekend.  Debi and Mary drove out from Houston on Thursday.  Debi had a job interview in Odessa on Friday.  Mary and I went to Schlemeyer Field for some ground schooling with Josh.  Debi met us at the field while we were looking at some of the commuter jets in the main hangar.  She thought the interview went well.  We drove back to Midland to get some lunch at Luigi's.  Then we picked up two older jet skis from my coworker, and pulled them back to my house.  The plan was to work on them a bit (one was not running) and tow them to Lake Nasworthy on Saturday to meet up with coworker.  I couldn't get either ski started.  Finally I got one started using starter fluid, but the other one would not start; it would not even spark.  I was bummed out.  I wanted to go to the lake and ride the skis. 

On Saturday morning we decided to go to Lake Nasworthy anyway, and rent some jet skis.  We'd seen a ski rental place on our spring break trip to San Angelo (see previous blog).  Drove two hours to the lake and the ski place was out of business.  Feeling empty handed, we drove around and found a place renting a 17' bass boat with a 25 hp 2-stroke outboard, $60/hr plus fuel and oil.  We rented it for two hours, and it was an amazing amount of fun.  The little thing only went about 20 mph, but that was plenty for the chopping, wake-splashed lake:

 Looking for Spring Creek Marina

The little engine that could -- barely.

I was struck by the similarities between boating and flying -- it's VFR.  No one is in control, you look our for yourself.  Everyone got a chance to drive, or at least steer:

 Debi drives

 Mary steering the boat

After our two hours were done, we hopped in the truck and drove around to the marina, where we met up with my coworker, his family, and a couple of his buddies and their families.  We sat on the shore while Mary played with the various kids.  Co-worker offered me to take a ride on his new-ish Honda Aquatrax skis.  Debi and I hopped on the less-powered on and went out into the lake.  It was very choppy, and I found it difficult to go more than 20-25 mph!  We topped out at 35 mph and did some big-feeling jumps.  We were probably actually a few inches off the water.  I tried to do some sharp turns like I'd done before on Moss Creek Lake, and the ski immediately started to capsize.  I jumped off to save the ski and Debi did the same.  After that I took it easy.  The ski felt unstable in all the chop and waves.

 The "slow" Honda (blue one)

Later I took Mary for a ride.  She quickly tired of the jet ski.  We returned to base at about 12 mph.  We hung around a bit and then high-tailed it home, or actually to Odessa, because Debi had an appointment with the sky at 8 PM.  We just made it to Schlemeyer Field:

 Debi does her pre-flight... or at least watches Josh do it.

Mary hangs out in a hangar

Debi enjoyed her flight.  We went and got some food somewhere and went home, exhausted.  After a few short hours of sleep, we were up again on Sunday.  We loaded up my Honda dirt bike into the Tacoma and drove 30 minutes east of Midland, past Stanton, to Outback Adventure Track.  We paid our $10 and set out across the dry lake bed in the Tacoma.  I unloaded the bike and rode around, a little bit with Mary.  Then Mary went back to the truck and we rode around some trails; me on the bike and Debi driving the Tacoma with Mary. I was amazed at the narrow trails they drove down -- several times I turned around to find the truck right behind me!  They gave the 4x4 a good workout, and even drove part of a motocross track.  Debi goes crazy behind the wheel of a 4x4 truck.  No pictures of this phenomenon...

I quickly tired of the 100-degree heat and we loaded up and drove back to Midland, unloaded and got cleaned up just in time to make it to the Rockhounds baseball game.  The Rockhounds are our local minor league baseball team.  Concho has a number of season tickets and I grabbed three the week before.  We breezed into the 3/4-empty stadium and took our assigned seats.  At least Debi and I did.  Mary spent most the game running around, mostly chasing the team mascot, Rocky the dog.  She did manage to get his autograph... three times.  Once on a used ball that Rocky gave her, for being a loyal fan/child stalker.

After eating hot dogs, burgers, drinks, nachos, cotton candy, and peanuts, we decided we needed some ice cream.  Stopped at the ice cream place on the way home to fit in the final food group.

Monday morning Debi and Mary packed up to leave Midland.  They picked me up from work for lunch and hit the road for their nine-hour drive back to Baytown.

Columbia, South Carolina

Flew from Midland, TX through Houston to Columbia, SC on Sunday, 26 June.  Columbia is the capital, but still a small town.  Located on the Congaree River.  Columbia is situated on the "fall line" where the topography goes from hilly, "Piedmont", which is underlain by Appalachian rocks, to coastal plan, underlain by river and coastal sediments.

Bridge over the Congaree River

Brought from the airport into town by Athena staff.  They run the trip.  Drop stuff at hotel and went out walking with our local Schlumberger rep, Bruce.  We walked down to the Congaree in 98 degree, 90% humidity.  It was brutal.

Old house in Columbia

Capital building, Columbia, SC

Train tracks

We were getting overheated.  Just then, Keaton and his wife April swooped in with their 4Runner and gave us a lift to the Flying Saucer.  I had no idea this was a nationwide "chain".  We had a few beers and went back to the hotel to get cleaned up for our evening lecture.  

4? hours of lecture on safety, wildlife, SC history, geology and an overview of our trip.  In a nutshell:

Day 1: Congaree River

Day 2-5: Coastal and tidal areas; beaches

Day 6: Flyover

Columbia seemed like a cool town.  People riding around on bikes; redone brick buildings; outdoorsy shops.

Summer Inferno

It is summertime in West Texas.  A few weeks ago, we came within one day of setting the record for number of days over 100 degrees.  One day we touched 110 F.  Normally, this would be the time of the year that I head to the mountains every weekend.  Too bad the Lincoln National Forest in NM is closed due to fire danger.  Getting stir-crazy here in Midland, I looked back through my photos from this spring and realize I went somewhere almost every weekend, or every other at least.  Summertime is for planning fall, winter and spring trips.  At least when the forest is closed.

Flying is difficult when it's hot.  It's not as easy to take off (less dense air), and it gets very unpleasant in the Diamond 20 over about 95 F... no A/C of course.

I could get up early to ride my motorcycle at Kermit dunes or Outback Adventure Track, but do you think I'm really going to get up early?

So, I've been reading my pilot books, studying, and watching a little Netflix.  Trying to walk Sabkha a bit but she usually has a seizure.  Yesterday I got to meet my friends new baby, Alejandra.  That little baby is so cute! Two months old.

I have been out of town a bit recently.  A few weeks ago I went to Dallas to watch an Indycar race with an old friend from Tucson.  I found out he now has a Tacoma and an S2000.  I drove my MX-5 to Dallas; he was expecting my new Tacoma.

Last week I spent in South Carolina on a coastal processes field trip run by Schlumberger.  Blogs posts to come.  In a few weeks I'll be in Dallas for an AAPG workshop.  It's hot here.  I can't wait for some rain and/or cooler temps.

My first solo

Last Friday I drove to Odessa for a flying lesson at Schlemeyer Field.  The day was hot and windy.  Josh and I did a few T/Os and landings; then Josh suggested we call it a day.  As we pulled up the to hangar, Josh said "you can do some soloing now if you'd like".  I thought about it for 15 seconds or so and finally said "heck yeah I want to!".  During those 15 seconds I was imagining flying the plane myself and I felt a teensy weensy bit scared.

I left the engine running and Josh got out.  I closed the canopy and it felt very, very quiet in the plane.  The wind was from the south, so I taxied around to runway 16.  It's a long trip and I did it like always.  When I reached the runway lines, I head a call from an aircraft coming in to land on runway 16.  I called out on the radio "Schlemeyer traffic, 497 Papa Alpha holding short for runway 16".  I didn't know what was the "right" thing to say, but I had to say something.  I waited a bit, then Josh came on the radio from the FBO.  "Golden Eagle please report on your position."  He was talking to the plane in the sky, somewhere, coming in to land at runway 16.  I scanned the sky but couldn't see it.  Golden Eagle gave a location report and then Josh came on the radio and told me I was clear to take off.  Only then did I realize Golden Eagle was going into a traffic pattern around the airport and not coming in for a direct approach.  I turned out onto the runway and stopped to do a final check: flaps to T/O position, fuel pump on, trim neutral.  Then I applied full power and started off down the runway.

The Diamond 20 does not accelerate quickly.  It hardly feels like it's accelerating at all.  Gradually, gradually, with a loud hum from the engine, like a giant fan (it is), I moved forward down the runway.  I never look at the airspeed indicator while taking off, but I think "rotate speed" is somewhere around 60 knots indicated air speed (KIAS).  I pulled back on the elevator and felt for the "mushiness" that comes into the controls as the plane begins to want to fly.  At this point I applied a little back pressure but then immediately moderate the back pressure to keep the plane in a very modest climb, making sure I can see the horizon over the nose of the plane.  Too steep a climb now could lead to a stall, and the ground is very close, but far away enough to fall and crash into it.  Climbing out into the strong south wind, it takes me a while to get to a relatively safe altitude of 300' about the ground (AGL) where I can retract the flaps and turn off the fuel pump.  At 500' AGL I initiate a left-hand 90 degree turn.  Over my left shoulder, I can see the runway I just departed.  This turn is quick because as I bank the plane the strong south wind turns me rapidly to the left.  A little way out and I initiate another left turn to parallel runway 16.  This is the downwind leg, and I call it out over the radio. I have a good view of the airport and the runway I'm going to land on, if all goes well.  About halfway past the airport I level out at 4000' MSL (that's 1000' AGL at Schlemeyer), pull back the throttle to cruising power (2000 rpm) and put in one set of flaps and turn on the fuel pump.  A little way past the airport, I back off the throttle even more (1700 rpm) and point the nose of the plane up a little to slow down to 75 knots.  Below 80 knots IAS I can lower full flaps, and I do so.  This slows the plane down but gives it lots of lift.  I left left again for "base" and then again for "final", taking a good look to my right before the last turn for any aircraft that may be coming in for a direct approach and landing.  Focusing on the start of the runway, I imagine my glide path and back out power a little more.  The strong south wind makes me feel like I'm high to land, but I'm not making much forward progress for each foot I drop because of the headwind.

As I drop closer to the Earth, it feels like I'm going faster and faster.  I start to get a little nervous.  The start of the runway passes beneath me and I'm about 20 feet off the ground and actually sinking pretty slowly.  Just as I begin to sink, I pull back on the controls and "flare" at just the right moment.  The plane touches down without a bump or a hop; perfectly; I can hardly believe I'm on the ground.  The landing was so smooth, I think I must still be flying.  A perfect landing.

As instructed, I came to a full stop and waited to hear Josh on the radio.  He told me to do another one...

I repeated the process a total of three times.  The second landing was pretty good, with one bounce.  The third landing was not so good, with a series of bounces that was starting to feel like "porpoising".  Thankfully on the third bounce I flared at the right time and stopped the bouncing.

Landing, landing landing.  Just like location in real estate, landing is the thing in aviation.  Yes, other things are important, like taking off -- but landing is really key, and the hardest for me to master.

Two most "soloing" lessons like this, then a short cross-country to Midland, then a longer dual cross country, hopefully to Big Bend.

I solo'ed!

Flying

I now have 13.1 hours of flight time.  12.1 of that on this "go round".  This Saturday I have my FAA Flight Medical which I need before soloing (flying without my instructor in the plane).  I suppose I'll need to get insurance too.  Expensive hobby.  The last several lessons have been take-offs, traffic pattern, and landings.  Landings are the toughest for me.  I can take off, I can do traffic, operate the radio, and I can usually do a nice high-performance approach.  The last 10 vertical feet is what gives me trouble.  I get scared as the rate of descent increases and the ground approaches.  Then I over-compensate by pulling back too much on the stick (usually).

In the most recent lesson we went back through basic maneuvers, slow flight, stalls, etc.  I felt like I did about 100x better than my first or second lesson (last time we did basic maneuvers).  Med certificate, a few more practice T/Os and landings, and I'll be soloing!