FLYING TO THE EAST COAST

In spring 2004 as the Mars rovers Spirit and Opportunity dominated the news, Bruce and I took our first coast to coast trip in our new Cirrus SR22. Bruce wanted to see the Smithsonian’s new Udvar Hazy Air and Space Museum out by Dulles airport and I wanted to see the capital at cherry blossom time. Late March/early April hit our sweet spot.

At this time, Bruce did not yet have his IFR ticket, so we made this entire trip flying in Visual Meteorological Conditions. We flew from San Carlos, California (KSQL) to Annapolis, Maryland (KNAP) with an overnight stop in Fort Stockton, Texas (KFST).

TRIP PREPARATION

Throughout March, Bruce had been watching the weather forecasts to make the final call on our departure day and route. We planned to be flexible. The weather dictated a southern route for flying in Visual Meteorological Conditions. Bruce avoided foul weather forecasted for Kansas and Oklahoma -“severe thunderstorms” turned into an F3 tornado and golf-ball sized hail!

After eating the bill for one unused hotel room on our original northern route, I no longer made hotel reservations. Instead, I called around to find hotels with many openings. I used www.flyguide.com, www.airnav.com and Flight Guide to find the best small airports with fuel, good hotel options and transportation. Most places did not have full FBO services.

CALIFORNIA TO TEXAS

In the morning, I packed our cooler for two days of flying with peanut butter and jam sandwiches, apples, munchies and water. Once at the airport, I did my “ground monkey” routine while Bruce pre-flighted. I left a jack-rabbit and a pair of doves in charge of the car in the airport lot. They looked surprised to see me as they worked on their breakfasts. We left San Carlos, California (KSQL) at sun-up before the ATC opened. Flying south (SJO), we saw the fog creep in around San Jose. The freeways were empty and the city still as the sun broke over the foothills.

We flew south-east over old territory - California’s central valley then through the pass in the Tehachapi Mountains. The familiar blocks of farms and ranches lay like a “crazy quilt” over the vast central valley floor. Edwards (CODE) was a familiar site with its large salt flats for landing experimental aircraft and even NASA’s shuttle. We continued south past Big Bear Lake with the fog-filled Los Angeles basin just beyond. We had a look past Joshua Tree Monument into the Palm Springs valley and could just see the Salton Sea beyond it in the distance.

FLYING OVER MARS

As we crossed over the baren, red land of the Mojave Desert, I wondered, “is this terrain Mars or California?” Arizona, New Mexico and Texas continued the trend.

After flying for three hours - around 200 knots - with the wind, we landed in Eloy (CODE)- south of Phoenix - for self-serve fuel. The airport was not much, but had a large capacity jump plane. The jumpers, between 10 and 20, alighted just as Bruce finished refueling. From Arizona, we flew through New Mexico, over El Paso, Texas - just across the freeway from Ciudad Juarez, Mexico.

The subdivisions outside El Paso sprouted like fields of fallen crops. We saw the optimistic dirt roads outlining neighborhoods and cul-de-sacs, but no houses were built nor roads paved. Out of the Martian landscape sprang crops of windmills perched on the top edges of mesas. Beyond the wind farms were fields of oilrigs with empty holding tanks in place, but the rigs themselves were either still or gone all together.

We ate our PBJ’s and apples while the “Roady” pumped out acoustic rock. We passed over more and more barren land growing little more than rocks. The stripped-down melodies were well suited to the haunting, unforgiving beauty of the southwestern deserts. The land below looked like pictures from the Mars rovers. I asked Bruce, “Is this Mars or Texas?”

DODGING WEATHER

We caught the storm front we were chasing south of San Angelo. It was a mild, low, sluggish front. It blocked our intended route toward Austin, Texas for flying in Visual Meteorological Conditions.

First, we tried flying over the storm at 6,000 feet. The further east we flew, the denser the clouds became. Bruce decided it was too risky to try to cross it tonight. We doubled back, found a large hole in the broken front, then spiraled down through the layer.

Second, we tried to scud-run under the storm back towards Austin. It was sprinkling with a light wind. As we got further under the darkening clouds, weather deteriorated such that we could no longer fly VFR.

Lastly, we turned back for the clear skies over Fort Stockton, Texas (KFST). Earlier, Bruce had identified it as our alternate destination – watching our time and fuel to stay within range. The only air traffic we encountered was a pair of big, fat, black buzzards.

WELCOME TO MARS

We landed with a good reserve of fuel before sunset on the large, well-maintained airfield. The airport building, sponsored by Piper Aircraft in the 1950’s, had a combined adobe fort and mid-century Streamline architecture. There were no people at the airport even though it was quite large and well maintained. A ghost town built in the 1950’s heydays of flying.

The absent FBO, left the office open, the air running, and a flyer on the door for hanger space and rooms. The heat and humidity gave notice that we were no longer in the dry, temperate climate of Northern California. I called Best Western with free, prompt pick-up service while Bruce fueled and tied down the plane. Used to mild weather, we thought hanger space was much too luxurious. (That was before we found out about the golf ball-sized hail just a few miles to the north of us!)

We loaded our overnight luggage into “Dan’s Taxi” – a very old, small, blue compact. I had my doubts, but the car made it. “Dan” did not help with our luggage, but he got us to the motel straight away. At the motel, Dan disappeared inside to collect his $7 payment at the front desk before I could hand him a generous tip.

If Mars had a settlement, it just might look like Fort Stockton, Texas. After cooling down, we walked the old state highway, supplanted by the Interstate, to K-Bob’s Steakhouse for some fine rib eye steaks. The salad bar was surprisingly good with crisp vegetables, homemade salsa and fresh bread pudding. The people in this part of Texas were not as friendly as those I had met in Austin, but they were not particularly rude either—just stripped down to bare necessities like the land. We had a fine meal, a clean room and a ride to and from the airport—every pilot’s dream stop whether on Earth or on Mars.

Pilot Notes - KSQL to KFST