Spring, 1993. An interesting and cautionary tale of this low-time VFR pilot's first long cross country in significant weather.
"Nice landing, Lee. So how was the flight in?"
"Went OK, if you don't count the marginal weather, and the wrong turn down Panamint Valley."
"Well, you're not alone. Five other airplanes did that too! Heh, heh!"
We are at the little unattended airport at Furnace Creek Ranch in the heart of Death Valley, California. Ten singles, 2 twins and a Robinson R22 (!!) had made the flight out of Palo Alto on Saturday 3/27 to come here for the West Valley Flying Club's spring fly in. I and two brave work colleagues are in a lowly Cessna 172, and we're one of the last there - but we DID beat the Robinson helo by at least an hour, so there's some consolation.
The airstrip at Furnace Creek is elevation minus 211 feet! I was curious as to whether the controls of the airplane would mysteriously reverse themselves, a la the story on Geoffrey Dehavilland in the 1950's movie "Breaking the Sound Barrier", but they didn't, and the landing was normal ("survivable").
We set up camp in the seventy degree dry weather. It had been raining much of the day back in the Bay Area (we just beat it out), and we can see the hills and mountains clouding up here in Death Valley as well. Oh well,time to relax and not worry about it. There's a hayride tonight, I've got my guitar, one hundred and five pounds of firewood are offloaded from the Bonanza, and I think we'll all be OK.
The Robinson arrives just before dinner...Marginal VFR must be a lot easier when you are able to hover! Let's see, 5 hours one way at $122 per hour? Pilots ARE a wealthy lot!
I wake up at 2am to the sound of the beating rain on my tent, and a wet sleeping bag. Oh, oh. By the time we wake up in the morning the sand on the desert floor has turned into a kind of gooey mud (no place for water to drain in Death Valley), and the clouds are well down, obscuring the surrounding mountains. Well, time for breakfast, a walk and some sightseeing and photography!
4 PM, clouds appear to be thinning some, so the planes get ready to leave. The Tiger, with two instrument-rated pilots aboard, is one of the first out. Immediately following is another 172 and then us. We need to climb straight out about 10 miles to a place called Stovepipe Wells, at which point we'll be able to see if the pass toward Lone Pine is clear or not. That is the way home, mama...
Tiger: "It doesn't look good over here! We'll circle at Stovepipe Wells to get a better look":
Tiger: "... is at 11,000 and we still can't see a way out".
172 #1: "...climbing 3 East of Stovepipe Wells, passing through 9,400"
Us: "... climbing East Stovepipe Wells, climbing through 8,000"
Tiger: "...at 12,500. We see a hole. Taking a heading of 230."
Us: "...at 10,500....ummm, I seem to be losing the horizon here."
(the ground begins to disappear in the mist.)
"...losing ground contact. We are returning to Furnace Creek!"
We go back and land to re-group! Just because the plane in front of us makes it through doesn't mean I want to -after all how do I know what they're seeing, through what are maybe more experienced eyes and training?
A decision is made. We will spend the night and get out tomorrow. Priorities: (1) call families, (2) call flying club, (3) call work!
Monday morning dawns beautiful and CAVU in Death Valley. I call 1- 800-VFR-NOT_RECOMMENED (flight service) and get "VFR not recommended " (due to low overcast in valley) but visibilities are reported great under the clouds, no precipitation, and _that_ doesn't seem so bad, so we file the flight plan and launch at 7:15am. The flight out over the desert is gorgeous, but it does not escape our attention that there are plentyof broken to overcast clouds right in our way at Techachapi Pass, and a rather solid looking layer blanketing the valley beyod. We keep our eye on it as we creep up on Mojave. Seems like 1-800-VFR-Not-Recommended had the right forecast after all...
We come up on Mojave and glance at the pass. It looks like the bottoms are about 5,000 feet, and we can see 10 miles or more up the road, so we take up a course over the road (I Follow Roads=IFR? Not!) and go over Tehachapi Pass. This works out real well as visibilities are 10 to 20 miles all the way, albeit under a low cloud layer, about 1,000 to 1,200 AGL. Same situation up the San Joachin Valley for about 40 minutes after the pass. This time we pick up I-5 to guide us, and I concentrate on remaining clear of the clouds. The smell at Harris Ranch is something to behold! When we get back, the airplane is covered with bugs!
I sit down at my desk at SGI by 1pm, and the monitor seems to swim before my eyes.
What an experience for this low-time VFR pilot! This was my first long cross country, and the first ever with an important go-no go weather decision made. 137 hours now! I have a new, profound respect for a lot of things regarding the capabilities of small planes. And I learned a little bit about flying from that!