The Mountain Calls and I Must Go

Day One of a three-day weekend and a miracle. Blue skies. Wind is 14 gusting to 22 at 9 degrees off runway heading. Pretty gusty on the ground, wind trying to tear the hangar doors right out of my hand. Good thing Gordon was along to help corral the doors. I’d noted Mount St Helens standing out boldly in the clear from my home so had invited Gordon and his wife Irene to visit the mountain. With gusty winds we wouldn’t be able to get close, but that’s okay, going to say hello anyhow.

Just as I finished my run-up at the end of 34, in came a 172 that was clearly working to stay ahead of the winds. Crabbed and making several adjustments. This told me the flight would offer some challenges and I put it in my mind to be aware that my lady passenger was new to small aircraft flying. I need not have been concerned. Irene took to flying like she’d done it all her life.

It was my intention to fly down to, and then past the mountain, remaining alert for wind shear or downdrafts and staying well away from her glistening sides. But as we approached, flying over the foothills at 6,500 - no bounce. Glass smooth.

I ventured closer, right toward her open throat. At 4 miles from her broken rim, I cautiously turned east to test her mood and found perfectly smooth air – glass it remained.

I turned and flew straight into her caldera, then right over the venting dome and across to the other side. Still the air is glass.
Never before have I found there to be no winds, drafts, turbulence anywhere over or around this mountain. Never in 7 years of visits. Today was one in hundreds and I took full advantage, passing over and around in every direction and height.


Path and I played with Saint Helen. Down into the Caldera, right through the steam venting from her building dome, then up and over a low point in the jagged rim with edges soaring above us on each side. With every turn Gordon, Irene or I called attention to new eye-popping views. Mt. Adams to the east, Hood to the south. Expanses of snow marked with tracks of snow mobiles. A snow clad waterfall fed by steam melted snow.
Spirit Lake and Mt Rainier to the North.

Then I spotted, on her south flank, what appeared to be a string of rocks, perhaps the spine of a ridge poking through the snow. But wait! I know this mountain and no such a ridge exists. I fly closer and slower and then I see.

“Look! It’s a string of hikers climbing the mountain!” “Look. There, at the top edge of the rim, see a whole crowd of them.”
Another first – I’d seen snowmobilers buzzing up this side and right up to the rim, but never hikers. We just had to go around and come back past them several times to be sure we got a good photo. Finally after nearly an hour of discovery, I turned Path away and we flew down to the valley floor following the path of the mud flows as I pointed out still standing blasted trees and the re-routed Toutle River.

some of the photos we took were good, but I would have dearly loved to have a real photographer with us on this flight.

Commerical Break

I discovered this product a few years ago from a magazine that mysteriously arrived in the mailbox. Being female, I had to wander through its pages. Spotted this item called Cab Commander and immediately realized it was exactly what I needed to organize my cockpit. Most of my flights, especially cross country, I’m alone. All those bits and pieces and charts are hard to corral, particularly if bouncy out.

Introducing the Cockpit Commander (my renaming)

Hanging on the co-pilot seat, everything I need is at my fingertips. Backup GPS, hand-held radio, pen, highlighter, spare batteries, laptop, cell phone, sectional charts (all folded and in order of need). When I’m flying with a co-pilot I simply hang it behind either seat – still accessible. It’s well worth the $35.00 price tag. Go to Duluth Trading if you’re interested.

This one is mine, sitting on a spare seat in the hangar. Couldn’t get a clear photo with it in the plane.

Winning Weekend

The only thing that could have made this past weekend any better was if I’d won the lottery too!

Saturday I started out walking and just kept going, uphill and down and up again achieving a whole new record, seven miles!

Sunday I took two Grey Eagles up. Meet Jean and Gordon. (That's me in the middle. Nick, the Airport dog saying hello)
Jean had not flown in a small plane before, but knew she would like it – and she did. Gordon had quite a bit of experience in GA planes including flights while he worked oil and mining around the country, but it had been awhile and he was thrilled to see his local area from the air.

We left Chehalis Airport (CLS) departing runway 16. Followed I-5 south to fly a circle over Gordon’s home, then turned SE for a look at Mt St Helens. There was a cloud layer just above the foothills, so I flew up a valley between two ridges and into open air over Johnston Ridge which lies directly north of Helens and took the brunt of her eruption. This is where the visitor observation and interpretative center sits and we noted that roads to it were buried in snow. The mountain itself showed in tantalizing glimpses as we flew across her face. I would have loved to get a picture of the caldera through a cloud window, but there was just enough turbulence to make photo taking an unwise choice.

Both passengers had many questions about planes and piloting and places I’d flown to. They were especially impressed with the freedom that GA pilots enjoy. Gordon liked the idea of “no speed limit”. He regaled us with tales of other flights and sights seen as we turned east and descended out of the hills into the valley leading to White Pass. Over the small town of Randle, we turned back west and overflew Rife and Mayfield Lakes on our way back home. Seniors are my favorite passengers; it was rewarding to get to know them and share a lovely hour of sightseeing.

Mayfield Looking East

Back in the Air

Path is back in his hangar. I hurried to the airport on Tuesday to make what I call a shakedown flight. I always do this following an annual, to make sure everything is just right. It felt so good to be back in the air, where I belong. One of the reasons that repairs on that Turn Coordinator were so expensive is because it has a connection to the auto pilot. I was told the auto pilot didn’t work when I bought the plane, but it didn’t matter to me as I prefer hand-flying anyway. Apparently this failing coordinator was the problem. I now have an operational auto pilot – bonus! I expect to continue doing most of my flying without mechanical help, but just once in a while it might be useful. After making five touch n go’s and seeing what it was like to act like a passenger while the plane flew itself, I made my final landing (which was near perfect) and put 45 minutes in my log book. All was well with plane and pilot. Good weather predicted for next day, ready for a real flight.

Wednesday morning started out with heavy fog – ¼ mile visibility on the ground. Just to the north – clear, blue and sunshine; same to the south. Frustrating and so typical. Then between 10:30 and 10:50 poof! – fog gone – It’s Mother Nature’s magic trick. I filled out paperwork for an hour’s vacation and thought about to where I would fly when 4:00 came around.

I’ve flown around every bit of Mt Rainier on many flights, yet the pull she exerts is strong. I announced my intention to depart the runway with a turnout to the east and as soon as we were high enough– there she was. Brilliant white in the lowering sun, sharply outlined against blue blue sky.
“Here I come Lady Tahoma, will you welcome me today?”

Mount Tahoma was her original name, and a glacier and small peak on her southeast side still retain these names in the form of Tahoma Glacier and Little Tahoma. The welcome I was inquiring about is my own way of describing flight conditions near mountains. Sometimes wind and air are smooth and soft and the mountain seems to say “Welcome. Come and fly as close as you wish.” On those days my plane skims her ridges, soaring softly over her glaciers so closely I can see blue ice. Her massive bulk fills my windows completely. Other times as we climb up to her feet, as a gnat to an elephant, she sternly rebuffs our overture with a slap of wind and turbulence. At those times, I turn quickly away and admire her from a distance. This was one of those times, I had to be content with a cautious circumnavigation that still provided me with some sights so beautiful, incredible, lovely that I need another language to use that has more superlatives to accurately describe. These photos can only hint at what it feels like to pilot your plane past this Lady with the setting sun glowing behind her.
Now this last shot is something I'd not seen before. It's the shadow of Mt Rainier reflecting on the haze to the east!

Back Sliding

Actually, going nowhere at all.
As you know, Path is in for annual which should have been close to complete. Except a little problem. An instrument called the Turn Coordinator had failed. A new one ordered. Except it was the wrong one, and the correct one will cost $1,000 more than originally thought. You can imagine my response to that little bit of news. My A&P had mercy on me and figured out a less expensive solution – remove the bad one, ship it to the manufacturer and get it rebuilt. Considerable savings. No flying for at least another two weeks. I’d like to hope for bad weather, but that wouldn’t be fair to my fellow pilots. Grounded so getting in extra walking – did 5.6 yesterday.

Here’s a nasty bit of weather near Reno from a trip last year. I flew in a different direction!

Annual

Last evening, Ed called and said, “I was at the airport and saw Path being strip searched.”

Path is currently “In Annual”. This means he’s spending a week with my A&P (aircraft mechanic).
Once a year, all General Aviation aircraft must undergo an Annual Inspection. This is not optional. If the Annual is completed in the month of January, then the following year the inspection must be completed by the end of January or it’s illegal to fly the plane.

During this time, his seats are removed, and floor carpeting taken out so that inspection ports in the floor can be accessed. Similar ports in the wings will be opened. The Cowl (hood) will be removed to facilitate engine area checks which include spark plugs, oil, starter and compression tests. Each and every moving part of the plane is examined, including the wires that connect flight controls inside the cockpit to the flight surfaces they operate.

Each model of airplane has a specific list of items that need to be scrutinized, tested and replaced or repaired at set intervals. There are a number of log books that belong to the plane. One each for the engine, prop and airframe into which the A&P makes entries as to the exact work completed. These logs are kept and are passed on to each owner so a complete history of the airplane is available. Path is over 40 years old and I own his logs for this entire time.

Expertise, time, and parts do not come cheaply. An A&P does not simply hang up a sign and start working on planes. They have years of training and must be certified. Of course, I consider it money well-spent for two reasons. One, it’s the law. Two, a well maintained plane is a safe plane. It’s painful to the pocketbook but soothing to the peace of mind.

A New Year of Adventure Begins

Number One. Intergalactic Bi-Plane.

After long weeks of dark, wet, dripping NW winter the sun came out. Yippeee! January 1, 2011. Temps in the teens, but I’m not complaining. Path, however, does not like to start when it’s cold. I nearly gave up, had to re-charge his battery, but finally – success. Up into the crystalline air with visibility over 100 miles. Ed is with me again, and we’re going north along the eastern edge of the Olympic Range, following Hood Canal to the NE corner of the Olympic Peninsula. We count mountain peaks on the way and even though I’ve seen them thousands of times, marvel at their majesty. At Jefferson County airport we enjoy lunch at the Spruce Goose Cafe, managing to grab the last empty table. Note for local pilots: The renovations are not huge, but the new deck includes a wind screen that does not block the view and should help keep lunch from blowing away. Ladies: The new bathroom is good.

A different route is selected for homeward – down the west side of the Olympic Range, which Ed has never seen. Oh, and see it we did. The light was just right (3:30 pm) The air was glass so I flew right in among the peaks. I’ve put a few photos here, but they truly do not convey what our eyes beheld.

CloseCloser

At home, I eagerly downloaded the photos and found this unexplained extra which to me looks like a golden Bi-Plane. Since I know Path was the only plane up there, I dubbed it not UFO, but Intergalactic Bi-Plane, thus identified!


Flight time: to Lunch 83 nm (nautical miles) – 40 minutes.
Home via Olympics: 149 nm – 1.5 hours