Check out this video! A guy is taking his pet eagle for a walk. He's flying a parasail, and the eagle rendezvous with him, and lands on his wrist. It's just amazing to watch!
http://www.youtube.com/v/pd5BMP_41bI%26rel=0%26hl=en_US%26feature=player_embedded%26version=3
:-)
TCS
Showing posts with label Flying Riding Shooting and Cars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flying Riding Shooting and Cars. Show all posts
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Firing on All Cylinders!
Literally---all 39 of them!
In the 24 hour period between noon Sunday 28Oct12, and noon
Monday 29Oct12, I ran all 8 of my internal combustion engines, which have 39
cylinders combined. These engines are as follows, listed first by number of
cylinders, descending, and secondarily by date of manufacture, ascending:
8 cylinders: 1969 Mercury Marquis, 429 CI V-8
6 cylinders: 1995 Honda Goldwing GL1500, 1500 cc flat six
6 cylinders: 2005 Toyota Highlander, 3300 cc V-6
6 cylinders: 2005 Honda Goldwing GL1800, 1800 cc flat six
4 cylinders: 1975 Honda Goldwing GL1000, 1000 cc flat four
4 cylinders: 1983 Honda Goldwing GL1100, 1100 cc flat four
4 cylinders: 2011 Cessna C-162, 100 hp O-200 Continental
1 cylinder: 2004 Honda 2 KW generator
When it comes to carbon ground markings, I am Bigfoot!
J
The flight in the C-162 was more exciting than I expected,
but that’s a different story. And, of course, this doesn’t include revolver cylinders. But, that is a
reminder that I need to get in some range time. My CCWs are up for renewal next
year, and it would be embarrassing to do poorly on the shooting part of the
test…
;-)
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Mountain Madness
A strange adventure, in the middle of a crazy couple of weeks! After working for a week in Salt Lake City, I flew to Boulder for the National Space Society Board of Directors meeting. Then Monday I flew home, and Thursday afternoon I was planning to drive down to Sacramento to serve as an expert panelist at a PMI conference.
So I did. The scenario has significant risks and costs, and I called them out. When I presented the whole thing to a Very Senior Commission in my environment, it was very well received. But then yesterday in a telecon with a lower level group, I was asked by a young technical guy, in a reasonably snotty tone of voice, why I thought my assumptions had any validity. Sadly, this is part of a pattern that I’ve tolerated too long, and which will soon come to an end. What I wanted to say (but didn’t, even though it would have been the absolute truth) was “Because I was managing multi-million dollar technology projects when you were still learning your multiplication tables, kid!” Instead, I simply mentioned that my resume was posted on my blog, and that he might want to take a look.
TCS
I got up at 4:30 AM, which is normal when I’m in the Pacific time zone, and went through the normal routine of feeding the animals, showering and dressing, holding telecons, doing email, and writing various things. During the afternoon, I had a particularly annoying telecon. I had been asked by a Very Senior Official in my current environment to see if I could advance the schedule of my project by some “outside the box” thinking, if I assumed for discussion purposes that I could get a supplemental appropriation for this year (FY 11/12).
On top of that, the meeting was run in a totally uncontrolled manner, and ran late, so I ended up rushing around trying to deal with logistics that were already tight to get to my conference. I had hoped to ride my motorcycle down to Sacramento, but the weather forecast was light rain Thursday evening, and light snow Friday, so that option was out. Finally, I was sitting on the shuttle to go down to the airport, and I had nothing to do for 40 minutes. A very good thing!
As we were climbing out of the Tahoe basin, I looked to the southwest, and there was a huge wall of clouds advancing over the Lake. I mumbled out loud, “That looks a hell of a lot bigger than what they were forecasting.” But I was going to be driving, not piloting a plane, so I didn’t think that much about it. We got to the airport, I went to the rental counter, picked up my car, and continued on my merry way.
Not long after passing Checkpoint Charlie on I-80 heading west to California, it started snowing. Nothing on the roads, but a steady snow. One of those road signs said that it was snowing over the summit. Duh, if it was snowing where I was, 2000 ft below the summit! The snow continued to worsen, and by the time I crossed Donner Pass (yes, the Donner Pass), the snow was starting to stick on the road.
Once over the pass, the conditions immediately got much worse. The road was still relatively dry, but the snow was thick enough and blowing so badly that the visibility started to get bad. Then it got worse. Then it got a lot worse, and the snow was starting to stick on the road. Having driven in the stuff for decades now, I was the fastest car on the road and then suddenly in front of me…asteroid! I saw taillights getting closer much more quickly than I liked. I used moderate braking, but I started to feel just a bit of instability in the grip on the road, so I had found that limit. I went past the asteroid on the right, and when I got back in front of him, he started going a good bit faster. He just didn’t want to be the lead dog. Now, when I say I’m going fast, I’m talking about 25 mph. The asteroid was going…I dunno…maybe 4 mph? Initially I was briefly annoyed, but then I realized that there was no reason to believe he could see any better than I could, and I couldn’t see anything at all, so I cut him some slack. I was using “faith-based” navigation…praying I wouldn’t hit the center divider! They had a standard K-rail divider, but there were no reflectors. Anywhere. It was just solid white. I thought about pulling over, but concluded that the odds of someone ramming me from behind were probably higher than the odds of me hitting something, so I just kept going.
After I got past the first clot of asteroids, there was no one in front of me at all. A little spooky, actually. I slowed down to the point where I was willing to believe that the dim outlines that I thought I saw were actually the edge of the road…maybe 15-20 mph. I ending up passing several clots of asteroids like that, and then a new problem developed.
Ice. The windshield and the wipers were icing up badly, and quickly. OAT was 31ยบ, with massive amounts of visible moisture, perfect conditions for icing, as any pilot will tell you. I immediately went to full de-ice mode, heater on max, fan on max, flow set to full defrost. The washer helped for a short while, but then started to make it worse (pretty typical). I was down to about 4” of windshield height that was clear. And I was thinking about pulling over despite the risks, when the trend started to slowly reverse. The ice stopped forming, and slowly started to break up.
Right about then, a new problem became evident. By this time, the snow on the road was pretty thick…if you wanted to call it snow. It was about 4-6” of slushy gunk, one of the most annoying substances in the galaxy. Still no visibility. At this point, the semis had started driving down the center of the two lanes, straddling both! But, with some prodding, I was able to get them to pick one or the other, and let me pass.
The final irony was when, a little ways before Auburn, one of those freeway signs said that you could take your chains off four miles ahead. During my passage, there had never been a requirement to put them on! This storm came through much harder, faster, and colder than anyone had forecast. Later in the hotel, I heard on the news that they had closed I-80 less than half an hour after I had gone through. Good call!
I was now well below the snow level, and there was just some light rain. I got off on a major artery in the area. And I started looking for a grocery store to pick up some Mountain Dew and other sundries. I watched, and watched, but no grocery store. I saw several fitness centers, and about half a million drug stores, and the thought occurred to me: Has California finally come to this? They don’t eat any more, they just work out and take drugs?
My participation on the panel the next day was very well received, and when subsequent speakers started quoting me during the rest of the conference, I figured my work was done there. I head back home, and had a completely uneventful drive and arrival. Yesterday AM I had one last logistical adventure. I had to drive the rental back to the airport in Reno, take a shuttle back up the hill to Incline, get a ride from the Hyatt to my auto shop, pick up Behemoth, and drive home. All went like clockwork. Today I go to church for the first time in over 30 years, and then back to Salt Lake City to mud wrestle this narly problem I just discovered into submission.
The adventure continues!
J
Friday, October 21, 2011
What the Fuck was THAT??
It was a beautiful summer morning in southern California, and Karen and I were flying along in our Cessna Cardinal RG, VFR in the central valley, from LA to our vacation home in Pine Mountain Lake. We had stopped outside Bakersfield for lunch, and then continued at low altitude, just enjoying the sights.
Then, out of nowhere, there was a huge *BANG!* from the front of the plane. We quickly lost about 15 knots of airspeed. Karen looked at me and said "What the fuck was THAT?" I said, "I don't know, but one way or another, we're screwed." I immediately started looking for emergency landing sites, and quickly found one at Pixley airport. I also started talking to the controllers about the issue (I frequently use flight following on cross country trips).
The weird thing was---we were now stable. Still flying slower, but the engine was rock steady, and the plane was stable. Pixley is a cow field, with no services at all. There are a bazillion safe places to put down a plane in the central valley, so I elected to continue on to Visalia, which had full maintenance facilities. I informed the controllers.
We arrived at Visalia in about half an hour or so without incident. I set up the approach, and moved the lever for the landing gear---and nothing happened. I cycled it several times. Nothing. I tried the manual gear pump. Nothing---and no resistance. I was talking to the controllers, and we got several mechanics on the line as well. I had read that when the normal extension mechanism doesn't work, you can try somewhat violent maneuvers to throw it down and locked. I tried that. Didn't work.
It was suggested we try to pull the gear down with the towbar. So, while I slowed down to just above stall, Karen opened her door, took the towbar, and tried to pull the gear into position (this is a high wing plane). She could hook the gear leg, and she could move it, but she couldn't get it to lock.
I should be clear, of course, that leaning out of a disabled airplane trying to fix it in-flight was NOT Karen's idea of a good time! She was a real trooper throughout the event. But, she liked the next idea even less---SHE had to fly the plane while *I* leaned out the open door! I got the gear leg hooked, and I was able to move it, and I was pretty sure I could get it into position and locked---but then it occurred to me that having one gear down and locked and one trailing was a *hugely* bad idea. The mechanics on the ground concurred.
After an hour or so trying various things, we polled the assembled wisdom on the radio, and everyone agreed there was nothing left to try---it was time for my first and (so far) only intentional gear up landing. I told everyone to get out of the way, because I was coming in. I did do an extra circle of the field to let a King Air depart.
At that time in my life, I read virtually every aviation magazine in print, and I had read that if you can stop the prop prior to a gear-up landing, you can minimize prop and engine damage. I even saw a picture of someone doing it! So I turned the engine off. Damned prop kept spinning. I lifted the nose to stop it, but we stalled early due to the excess drag. A lot more drag than I expected with the gear trailing, partially down! I pushed the nose down, and we were at least sort of flying again. We banged onto the runway, and slid on the belly for a very short distance, rotating 90 degrees to the right in the process. As we rotated, a wingtip dipped and just barely touched the runway, then righted when we stopped moving. As recommended by procedure, we had unlocked the doors prior to impact. Once we stopped moving, I said “Out!”, and we quickly moved away from the plane, also according to procedure.
Well, there was no fire, and it turns out that I had successfully saved both the engine and the prop. They lifted the plane up with a hoist, hauled the gear down to the locked position manually, and later flew the plane home for repairs---no engine or prop work required. Turns out a hydraulic fitting in the landing gear system had failed, and immediately dumped all the fluid overboard. There was no way we were going to get that gear down. And you know what…we didn't sue anybody! It was an older plane, and shit happens.
Since it was all on the radio while it was happening, there was a huge press corps and general gathering watching while I was doing all of this. We made the paper the next day, and I still have the clipping. When I opened the door to do my attempt at pulling the gear down, my flight bag had bailed out of the plane. This had been noted on the ground---and the local sheriff had dispatched troopers to find it, thinking I might have been dumping drugs! They never found it, unfortunately, but to this day, in 2009, I use the flight bag Karen bought me to replace that one.
When all the commotion had settled down, and I had done my required interview with the press, we rented a car, and continued the trip.
It wasn't until hours later, waiting for dinner at the Pine Mountain Lake Country Club, that I emotionally caught up with what had just happened. I calmed down, several drinks later---.
The plane was returned to service in fairly short order, and to the best of my knowledge, it’s still flying today! As are we!
:-)
TCS
Then, out of nowhere, there was a huge *BANG!* from the front of the plane. We quickly lost about 15 knots of airspeed. Karen looked at me and said "What the fuck was THAT?" I said, "I don't know, but one way or another, we're screwed." I immediately started looking for emergency landing sites, and quickly found one at Pixley airport. I also started talking to the controllers about the issue (I frequently use flight following on cross country trips).
The weird thing was---we were now stable. Still flying slower, but the engine was rock steady, and the plane was stable. Pixley is a cow field, with no services at all. There are a bazillion safe places to put down a plane in the central valley, so I elected to continue on to Visalia, which had full maintenance facilities. I informed the controllers.
We arrived at Visalia in about half an hour or so without incident. I set up the approach, and moved the lever for the landing gear---and nothing happened. I cycled it several times. Nothing. I tried the manual gear pump. Nothing---and no resistance. I was talking to the controllers, and we got several mechanics on the line as well. I had read that when the normal extension mechanism doesn't work, you can try somewhat violent maneuvers to throw it down and locked. I tried that. Didn't work.
It was suggested we try to pull the gear down with the towbar. So, while I slowed down to just above stall, Karen opened her door, took the towbar, and tried to pull the gear into position (this is a high wing plane). She could hook the gear leg, and she could move it, but she couldn't get it to lock.
I should be clear, of course, that leaning out of a disabled airplane trying to fix it in-flight was NOT Karen's idea of a good time! She was a real trooper throughout the event. But, she liked the next idea even less---SHE had to fly the plane while *I* leaned out the open door! I got the gear leg hooked, and I was able to move it, and I was pretty sure I could get it into position and locked---but then it occurred to me that having one gear down and locked and one trailing was a *hugely* bad idea. The mechanics on the ground concurred.
After an hour or so trying various things, we polled the assembled wisdom on the radio, and everyone agreed there was nothing left to try---it was time for my first and (so far) only intentional gear up landing. I told everyone to get out of the way, because I was coming in. I did do an extra circle of the field to let a King Air depart.
At that time in my life, I read virtually every aviation magazine in print, and I had read that if you can stop the prop prior to a gear-up landing, you can minimize prop and engine damage. I even saw a picture of someone doing it! So I turned the engine off. Damned prop kept spinning. I lifted the nose to stop it, but we stalled early due to the excess drag. A lot more drag than I expected with the gear trailing, partially down! I pushed the nose down, and we were at least sort of flying again. We banged onto the runway, and slid on the belly for a very short distance, rotating 90 degrees to the right in the process. As we rotated, a wingtip dipped and just barely touched the runway, then righted when we stopped moving. As recommended by procedure, we had unlocked the doors prior to impact. Once we stopped moving, I said “Out!”, and we quickly moved away from the plane, also according to procedure.
Well, there was no fire, and it turns out that I had successfully saved both the engine and the prop. They lifted the plane up with a hoist, hauled the gear down to the locked position manually, and later flew the plane home for repairs---no engine or prop work required. Turns out a hydraulic fitting in the landing gear system had failed, and immediately dumped all the fluid overboard. There was no way we were going to get that gear down. And you know what…we didn't sue anybody! It was an older plane, and shit happens.
Since it was all on the radio while it was happening, there was a huge press corps and general gathering watching while I was doing all of this. We made the paper the next day, and I still have the clipping. When I opened the door to do my attempt at pulling the gear down, my flight bag had bailed out of the plane. This had been noted on the ground---and the local sheriff had dispatched troopers to find it, thinking I might have been dumping drugs! They never found it, unfortunately, but to this day, in 2009, I use the flight bag Karen bought me to replace that one.
When all the commotion had settled down, and I had done my required interview with the press, we rented a car, and continued the trip.
It wasn't until hours later, waiting for dinner at the Pine Mountain Lake Country Club, that I emotionally caught up with what had just happened. I calmed down, several drinks later---.
The plane was returned to service in fairly short order, and to the best of my knowledge, it’s still flying today! As are we!
:-)
TCS
Originally published 25Ap09
Monday, October 17, 2011
Leaving the Nest
The weather was the best around here in months, and I took advantage of it! I flew for 2.5 hours, my longest flight yet in Phoenix, my little Challenger II LSA. I landed at 4 different airports, and it was the first time I re-fueled away from home, and then continued the trip. At least, in this incarnation!
I have been keeping track of the fuel burn since I decreased the prop pitch. I originally set my cruise rpm at 6400-6500 with the new pitch, and got a burn of 3.6 gph. About what I got before with full throttle cruise, around 6200-6300 rpm. The last two tanks, I increased to 6500-6600 rpm, got a few extra mph, and increased fuel burn to 3.8 gph. Certainly not a crushing penalty! I’ll be bumping that up to 6600- 6700 rpm, and see what happens with that. There were a couple of cases during the flight where I was very happy for the increased climb capability of the decreased pitch.
Since the wind was fairly calm, I decided to go over the mountains into the Tahoe basin, fly across it, and then land at Truckee airport. When I went through Spooner pass, it was tempting to fly straight across the water to Brockway pass, but I was spooked about the prospect of flying 10 miles over water. In retrospect, since I was 2200 ft above lake level, I probably could have made it to shore at any point with an engine failure, but I wanted to fly over my house and take a picture anyhow, which I did. There are enough beaches around the lake that it would have worked at any point, but I didn’t quite realize how big a fraction of the Tahoe shoreline is just big rocks!
I tuned in the Truckee AWOS (first time I’ve used that in this incarnation), and while the normal runway is 28, the winds, still moderate but higher than at Carson City, were favoring runway 19. It’s shorter than 28, but at 4600 ft, “short” is relative! When I switched to the CTAF, the place was a complete zoo. Someone was waiting to take off from runway 28---waiting for a plane that was taking off from runway 10! They may both have had headwinds. That kind of thing happens out here with some regularity.
One thing happened that was a little weird. The pilot on 28 deferred to the one taking off on 10, and I was just getting ready to turn base for 19. I told her I didn’t need much runway, and wouldn’t get to the intersection with 28, and that I’d report stopped, and she said that was fine. I stopped and made the call, but she couldn’t hear me! But I could hear her. She kept asking if I was down. Unicom said they saw me stop, but they couldn’t hear me either. I could hear them fine. In the air they could all hear me fine. The radio worked fine for the rest of the day.
Truckee is at 5900 ft elevation, and the relevant mountain pass is somewhat closer than it is from Carson City. So, I decided to give the climb performance a more difficult test, and headed straight for the pass. There was a great alternate landing site about halfway up (ski resort parking lot!), so I had that covered. By the time I crossed the 7200 ft pass, I was only at 8000 ft. Not awful, but less than I wanted. Still, a good test!
I am definitely noticing a difference with the engine temps with the lower prop pitch/higher rpms. The EGTs are both higher. They had been running around 950, and now they typically run 1000-1050. But, on descent, I need to watch to make sure they don’t overtemp when I reduce power. It never used to do that, but I was never making descents from 8500+ft before, so I don’t really know the cause. When they brush up against 1200, they drop immediately with a substantial power reduction, and then I increase the power until I find a stable setting. As I get used to it, I’ll probably get to the point where I just set it right on initial descent---but I’m not there yet.
The CHTs went up only very slightly with the pitch decrease/rpm increase, but now one of them is acting flakey. It will be cruising along at 210-225, and then all of a sudden, drop down to 125-150, and bounce around there for a while. Eventually, it will go back to 210-225. Is it even possible from a physics standpoint that the cylinder head could cool that much that fast, and then wobble around? There’s no discernible change in engine power or sound, and the EGT remains stable. My guess is that this is a gauge problem, maybe caused by additional vibration from operating at a consistently higher rpm? Thoughts appreciated!
After clawing my way back in to the Tahoe basin, I was once again tempted to go over water to Spooner pass on the other side. But, there was another pass visible that I had never noticed before, which was a much more direct route home. I looked at the chart, but I couldn’t get a clear sense of the elevation of that pass (no road), so I stuck with my original route. I did climb up to 9500 ft for the first time, and at that altitude I’m sure I would have made the other route. Maybe next time. 9500 ft sure didn’t look very high, since most of the ridgeline I was flying next to was barely below that. Definitely still climbing, though. At 9500 ft as a realistic altitude, I can definitely get to pretty much everywhere around here, without excessive diversion to find lower terrain.
Over Spooner pass, I considered turning north to go home since I had gotten a late start, but decided to continue, so I turned south toward Minden airport to get fuel. Just when I was getting ready to turn base, I heard a King Air call in on downwind behind me. I told him I’d try to clear the runway quickly, and he came back with a cheery “No worries!” Still, I landed a good ways down from the threshold to minimize ground time, and didn’t roll more than a few hundred feet before making the turnoff. After getting them adjusted at the annual, the brakes work GREAT.
What’s amazing about this is that a radio isn’t legally required for any of these airports! They are all uncontrolled fields. I don’t think I’d feel at all comfortable flying around in this beehive completely out of comm, legal though it would be. On the other hand, I *LIKE* the fact that this is a very active GA area, with everything from gliders, trikes, and powered parachutes, through Citations and King Airs, and everything in between.
After refueling, I took off for Alpine County airport. It’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere, at the bottom of the Carson Valley, just before the Sierra Nevada mountains start to rise sharply. The normal pattern is right traffic for runway 35, so I set that up, and landed without incident---until I noticed once on the ground that I had landed slightly downwind! Hadn’t done that in a long time. I hadn’t spotted the windsock from the pattern. I had originally intended just a touch and go, but it didn’t feel quite right, and that was why. So, I made a full stop, taxied down to the end of runway 17, and took off. I lifted off quickly, but I wasn’t happy with the climb rate given the rising terrain in front of me. Runway 17 points toward some very high terrain, even though there is a sharp drop off at the end of the runway, leading down to a valley before the mountains start in earnest. I thought about turning to follow a canyon, until I realized I wasn’t sure which way the water was flowing. So, I did a steep 180 instead, and headed north toward home, with a new respect for how tightly that little CWS can turn around!
On the flight back, I noticed a slight vibration, sort of a flutter. I’ve noticed this before, but then it goes away. It only seems to happen at certain combinations of airspeed and rpm, but not consistently, and I haven’t been able to characterize it. It may be related to being slightly uncoordinated; I guess I haven’t fully internalized the additional rudder needed with the doors on yet, since I noticed the ball off center a couple of times. It doesn’t feel like it’s the engine itself, which still seems smooth, and I don’t feel it in the stick or rudder. It’s not severe, but it’s distracting. Anybody have any idea what this might be?
By the time I got back to Carson City, I was tired, cramped, and stiff. If I’m going to fly any distance in the little beast regularly, I am going to DEFINITELY need to get better seats. More weight---Hoorah! Not the tightest pattern I’ve ever done, and I bounced the landing. Not a BIG bounce, mind you, and it was on the mains, but still---
I’m a big believer in silly milestones, and with this flight, over 10% of the total flight time Phoenix has is mine, 32 out of 311 hours.
Overall, just an AWESOME day!
:-)
TCS
Originally posted 15Apr09
I have been keeping track of the fuel burn since I decreased the prop pitch. I originally set my cruise rpm at 6400-6500 with the new pitch, and got a burn of 3.6 gph. About what I got before with full throttle cruise, around 6200-6300 rpm. The last two tanks, I increased to 6500-6600 rpm, got a few extra mph, and increased fuel burn to 3.8 gph. Certainly not a crushing penalty! I’ll be bumping that up to 6600- 6700 rpm, and see what happens with that. There were a couple of cases during the flight where I was very happy for the increased climb capability of the decreased pitch.
Since the wind was fairly calm, I decided to go over the mountains into the Tahoe basin, fly across it, and then land at Truckee airport. When I went through Spooner pass, it was tempting to fly straight across the water to Brockway pass, but I was spooked about the prospect of flying 10 miles over water. In retrospect, since I was 2200 ft above lake level, I probably could have made it to shore at any point with an engine failure, but I wanted to fly over my house and take a picture anyhow, which I did. There are enough beaches around the lake that it would have worked at any point, but I didn’t quite realize how big a fraction of the Tahoe shoreline is just big rocks!
I tuned in the Truckee AWOS (first time I’ve used that in this incarnation), and while the normal runway is 28, the winds, still moderate but higher than at Carson City, were favoring runway 19. It’s shorter than 28, but at 4600 ft, “short” is relative! When I switched to the CTAF, the place was a complete zoo. Someone was waiting to take off from runway 28---waiting for a plane that was taking off from runway 10! They may both have had headwinds. That kind of thing happens out here with some regularity.
One thing happened that was a little weird. The pilot on 28 deferred to the one taking off on 10, and I was just getting ready to turn base for 19. I told her I didn’t need much runway, and wouldn’t get to the intersection with 28, and that I’d report stopped, and she said that was fine. I stopped and made the call, but she couldn’t hear me! But I could hear her. She kept asking if I was down. Unicom said they saw me stop, but they couldn’t hear me either. I could hear them fine. In the air they could all hear me fine. The radio worked fine for the rest of the day.
Truckee is at 5900 ft elevation, and the relevant mountain pass is somewhat closer than it is from Carson City. So, I decided to give the climb performance a more difficult test, and headed straight for the pass. There was a great alternate landing site about halfway up (ski resort parking lot!), so I had that covered. By the time I crossed the 7200 ft pass, I was only at 8000 ft. Not awful, but less than I wanted. Still, a good test!
I am definitely noticing a difference with the engine temps with the lower prop pitch/higher rpms. The EGTs are both higher. They had been running around 950, and now they typically run 1000-1050. But, on descent, I need to watch to make sure they don’t overtemp when I reduce power. It never used to do that, but I was never making descents from 8500+ft before, so I don’t really know the cause. When they brush up against 1200, they drop immediately with a substantial power reduction, and then I increase the power until I find a stable setting. As I get used to it, I’ll probably get to the point where I just set it right on initial descent---but I’m not there yet.
The CHTs went up only very slightly with the pitch decrease/rpm increase, but now one of them is acting flakey. It will be cruising along at 210-225, and then all of a sudden, drop down to 125-150, and bounce around there for a while. Eventually, it will go back to 210-225. Is it even possible from a physics standpoint that the cylinder head could cool that much that fast, and then wobble around? There’s no discernible change in engine power or sound, and the EGT remains stable. My guess is that this is a gauge problem, maybe caused by additional vibration from operating at a consistently higher rpm? Thoughts appreciated!
After clawing my way back in to the Tahoe basin, I was once again tempted to go over water to Spooner pass on the other side. But, there was another pass visible that I had never noticed before, which was a much more direct route home. I looked at the chart, but I couldn’t get a clear sense of the elevation of that pass (no road), so I stuck with my original route. I did climb up to 9500 ft for the first time, and at that altitude I’m sure I would have made the other route. Maybe next time. 9500 ft sure didn’t look very high, since most of the ridgeline I was flying next to was barely below that. Definitely still climbing, though. At 9500 ft as a realistic altitude, I can definitely get to pretty much everywhere around here, without excessive diversion to find lower terrain.
Over Spooner pass, I considered turning north to go home since I had gotten a late start, but decided to continue, so I turned south toward Minden airport to get fuel. Just when I was getting ready to turn base, I heard a King Air call in on downwind behind me. I told him I’d try to clear the runway quickly, and he came back with a cheery “No worries!” Still, I landed a good ways down from the threshold to minimize ground time, and didn’t roll more than a few hundred feet before making the turnoff. After getting them adjusted at the annual, the brakes work GREAT.
What’s amazing about this is that a radio isn’t legally required for any of these airports! They are all uncontrolled fields. I don’t think I’d feel at all comfortable flying around in this beehive completely out of comm, legal though it would be. On the other hand, I *LIKE* the fact that this is a very active GA area, with everything from gliders, trikes, and powered parachutes, through Citations and King Airs, and everything in between.
After refueling, I took off for Alpine County airport. It’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere, at the bottom of the Carson Valley, just before the Sierra Nevada mountains start to rise sharply. The normal pattern is right traffic for runway 35, so I set that up, and landed without incident---until I noticed once on the ground that I had landed slightly downwind! Hadn’t done that in a long time. I hadn’t spotted the windsock from the pattern. I had originally intended just a touch and go, but it didn’t feel quite right, and that was why. So, I made a full stop, taxied down to the end of runway 17, and took off. I lifted off quickly, but I wasn’t happy with the climb rate given the rising terrain in front of me. Runway 17 points toward some very high terrain, even though there is a sharp drop off at the end of the runway, leading down to a valley before the mountains start in earnest. I thought about turning to follow a canyon, until I realized I wasn’t sure which way the water was flowing. So, I did a steep 180 instead, and headed north toward home, with a new respect for how tightly that little CWS can turn around!
On the flight back, I noticed a slight vibration, sort of a flutter. I’ve noticed this before, but then it goes away. It only seems to happen at certain combinations of airspeed and rpm, but not consistently, and I haven’t been able to characterize it. It may be related to being slightly uncoordinated; I guess I haven’t fully internalized the additional rudder needed with the doors on yet, since I noticed the ball off center a couple of times. It doesn’t feel like it’s the engine itself, which still seems smooth, and I don’t feel it in the stick or rudder. It’s not severe, but it’s distracting. Anybody have any idea what this might be?
By the time I got back to Carson City, I was tired, cramped, and stiff. If I’m going to fly any distance in the little beast regularly, I am going to DEFINITELY need to get better seats. More weight---Hoorah! Not the tightest pattern I’ve ever done, and I bounced the landing. Not a BIG bounce, mind you, and it was on the mains, but still---
I’m a big believer in silly milestones, and with this flight, over 10% of the total flight time Phoenix has is mine, 32 out of 311 hours.
Overall, just an AWESOME day!
:-)
TCS
Originally posted 15Apr09
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