Reno Air Races -- 2600 Miles in 2 Days!

[Jay Honeck]

2600 miles -- in two days. Whew!

We're back from the Reno Air Races (two days early, sadly, to get out ahead
of a winter storm system that rolled into the Rockies on Friday afternoon),
and I'm here to tell you: Reno ROCKS!

I've never seen anything quite like it. In Reno, aircraft engines that were
designed to put out "only" 1500 horsepower are being pushed to over 3000
horsepower, and are powering aircraft around an 8 mile oval course at over
500 mph, just a few feet off the ground, and just a few feet apart. To say
it's exciting is a major understatement: It quite literally makes NASCAR
look like a walk in the park.

But I'm ahead of myself...

The Flight Out
***************************
Our flight started inauspiciously enough, with a line of showers and
thunderstorms working it's way into Iowa as we tried to depart at sunrise.
After waiting a bit to see how things would develop, it soon became apparent
that we either launched now, or we'd be stuck waiting till the front blew
through later that night. Since weak Midwestern summertime fronts are
usually spotty and easily circumnavigated, we launched, with the knowledge
that we might end up spending the night somewhere west of Des Moines.

With Mary acting as PIC, we cautiously worked our way west, listening ahead
to AWOSs, and aiming for the lighter areas of cloud cover. The ceiling never
dropped below 3,000 feet, and visibility was good as we picked our way
through light rain showers to the other side of the state. After passing
through one last line just east of Omaha, we broke out into glorious
sunshine and unlimited ceilings as far as the eye could see, as we winged
our way across Nebraska. Things were looking up! (And we never saw
another cloud, all the way to the west coast!)

(An aside: For the first time, ever, we were able to see a full, 100%
circular rainbow from the air. To see a round, 360 degree rainbow was
worth the price of admission right then and there! What percentage of
humans has ever seen one? It can't be very high...)

Relaxing, I did a double-take as I checked our GPS ground speed -- 88 knots!
Atlas usually trues out around 140 knots, so we were in for a looong day if
this kind of head-wind persisted. Luckily, the air was smooth at 8,500
feet, so we just loosened up the seat belts, turned on the autopilot, and
popped in another CD -- there was not much else we could do.

At last, Alliance, NE -- our first stop -- crept into view, with our ground
speed hovering around a disastrous 100 knots. Instead of taking 3.5 hours,
this first leg had taken close to five -- and we weren't even a third of the
way to Reno!

Alliance was chosen because (a) Jim Weir said they carried mogas, and
because (b) according to AOPA, they had a restaurant on the field. Well,
we managed to buy their last 50 gallons of mogas (which, according to the
FBO owner, they'll never be able to sell it again, due to insurance
restrictions), had to take the rest in avgas -- and found that the
restaurant had closed back in 1997. (Thanks AOPA!)

So, we borrowed their van and drove into Alliance for an outstanding country
breakfast at Ben and Mel's (or something like that) -- with great food, ugly
waitresses, and cheap prices. My kind of place!

Refreshed, we launched again into clear blue skies with me as PIC, wondering
what this headwind was going to do in the mountains ahead. Of course, we
were approaching the mountains at mid-day -- the worst possible time for
turbulence, according to the many mountain flying sources we consulted
before this flight. Sadly, however, we discovered that when you live in
Iowa there simply isn't much choice but to fly across them at mid-day,
unless you want to take two days to get to Reno.

Since we didn't have that kind of luxury, we simply took our chances with
the bumps...

Our ground speed gradually picked up to a more respectable 125 knots -- but
we continued to fall way behind schedule. As we passed Scott's Bluff the
terrain became more and more forbidding, with less evidence of human
habitation with every passing mile. Soon the foothills gave way to
mountains, which, to this flat-lander, looked pretty danged big indeed!

Atlas was running like a champ, as always, but we were sure wishing he was
turbo-charged as we droned along. At 10,500 feet, we were only able to pull
around 19 inches of manifold pressure, which sure didn't give us much
"ooomph" -- and the really big stuff still lay ahead. Occasionally we'd hit
a smoothly rising pocket of air, and I'd have to push over to maintain
altitude. During these brief spells, our ground speed would approach a more
normal 135 knots -- but the inevitable sinking pocket of air would soon
follow, necessitating a pull back to maintain altitude. During these
spells, ground speed would decay to an abysmal 85 knots.

By the end of the flight my left arm was noticeably sore from fighting this
up/down tendency, but that lay ahead...

Luckily, despite the strong winds aloft, we didn't hit any bad mountain
turbulence, and we were able to truly appreciate the majesty and glory of
the mountains from our tall -- if slow -- perch. Moments of spiritual
contemplation were broken only by the discomfiting knowledge that any engine
failure would likely be unsurvivable, as we crossed ridge after ridge of
ever-higher mountains. For the first time in my flying life, I longed for a
twin engined plane...

Flying VOR to VOR (only because they are placed in the lowest points in the
valley), our moving map GPS at last displayed Ogden, Utah creeping into
range. The approach into Ogden was truly spectacular, as we crossed through
a high pass at 10,500 feet, and then rapidly descended to land at the Ogden
airport down at 4500 feet or so. Skimming through the pass, with pine
trees and rocks seemingly just a few feet away, only to have the whole world
drop out from beneath you to reveal the great Salt Lake basin beyond, is a
truly wondrous experience!

With a quick gas up in Ogden (I knew we were in trouble when the line guys
were wearing ties -- the gas was $3.07 a gallon, and we needed over 60
gallons again), we were on our way to Reno, with no further stops planned.
After almost 8 hours in the air, and constant exposure to high altitude, we
were starting to feel pretty tired, but knowing the goal was in reach kept
us enthused. However, I was glad to let "Otto" fly the plane as we simply
monitored our progress on the maps, making minor course corrections and
watching as Reno inched ever closer.

Our plan was to land at Grass Valley, CA, in order to camp in Jim Weir's
yard for the night, followed by a return to Reno for a few days of hotels.
However, as we pressed westward, our ground speed never consistently
exceeded 130 knots, and our "easy" flight to Jim's was looking less and less
likely. A quick check with a bored military controller just west of Salt
Lake City confirmed that the sun would set in Reno just past 7 PM, and --
despite picking up two hours as we crossed from Central to Mountain to
Pacific daylight times -- it was looking like we might have to stop
somewhere short of Jim's for the night.

In fact, as we crossed Winnemucca, Nevada, our ETA to Reno was clicking down
precisely to sunset, so we knew that we weren't going to be seeing Jim or
Gail that night. It's one thing for a couple of dumb flat-landers to tempt
the Rockies in a single engine plane in the daytime -- it's another thing
entirely to try crossing them in the dark!

We at last touched down at Reno International just after sunset, an
incredible 12+ hours of flight-time after leaving Iowa City. Our estimated
flight time had expanded exponentially, but we were, at last, safe on the
ground.

We chose to park at Sierra, assuming that we'd only be there one night.
Even though it was only Wednesday, there were aircraft parked EVERYWHERE.
Fortunately, we got one of their last three single-engine aircraft parking
spots, for which they "only" charged us $25 per night -- and gas was a
painful $3.37 per gallon! Since we once again needed over 65 gallons, Reno
proved to be the most expensive single fuel stop we'd ever experienced!

The folks there were very helpful, however, and gave us a ride to the
commercial side of the airport, where we could catch our hotel's airport
shuttle bus. Within an hour I was sitting in a casino restaurant, dizzy
with fatigue after 12+ hours in the plane -- but glad (and somewhat amazed)
to at last be in Reno!

The Hotel
***************************
The next morning we "slept in" till 7 AM local time -- 9 AM our time -- and
started preparing for a day at the races. After pondering our options, we
soon realized that -- given the parking situation -- if we were to fly up to
Jim and Gail's for the day, we would not be able to return to Reno. This
would leave us with the sorry option of driving back and forth each day,
which was not something we wanted to deal with all weekend -- we were there
to see RACING!

So, a quick call to Gail allowed us to sadly beg off of our commitment to
use their shower and eat their food (I suspect they weren't quite as
disappointed as we were!), and we opted to "hotel it" for the remainder of
our stay.

The Silver Legacy hotel turned out to be the perfect solution to seeing the
Reno Air Races. Located in downtown Reno, it joins seamlessly with the
Circus Circus and Eldorado casinos, providing easy access to their many
restaurants and bars. Mary and I both hate to lose money, so we never
really checked out the gambling options -- but, for those who care about
such things, they were obvious and plentiful.

Best of all, the hotels were running a continuous shuttle bus out to the
race site, Stead Airport. The bus was a bit pricey, at $16 apiece round
trip -- but eliminating the "hassle factor" made it well worth it. (And
auto parking was 8 bucks, which made the bus look even better.)

If we are ever lucky enough to return to Reno, we will go back to the Silver
Legacy.

The Races
***************************
Upon arrival we found the ticket booths to be well-staffed, and we were soon
inside the grounds, marveling at the huge, purpose-built grandstands that
edged the airport ramp. Having spent many years at airports, ones eyes have
grown accustomed to seeing certain things: A beacon. Gas pumps. An FBO.
A wind tee. Mary and I both agreed that grandstands and bleachers looked
decidedly out of place!

But what a view from up there! I didn't realize that you could actually see
the entire race course from in the stands, but due to the gradually rising
terrain and the height of the stands, you can easily follow the entire race.
The race course is in a bowl, mostly ringed by mountains, which provide a
marvelous backdrop to the world's fastest motor sport.

And, wow, are they fast! When we arrived they were doing a T-6 race, which
looked pretty fast to my newbie eyes. In this class, because the aircraft
are so similar, the race is decided mostly by skill, rather than by brute
horsepower. (An aside: In years past, the T-6s were always the "middle
fast" race, with the biplanes occupying the "slowest of the bunch" category.
This year, some highly modified biplanes actually exceeded the T-6 race
speeds, relegating the T-6 drivers to the "slowest" category for the first
time. I imagine this didn't sit well with those guys!) The winner looked
like he was flying on rails, and his consistency was obviously the key to
success.

They then ran a Sport Class race, which is run on a smaller course -- and
those guys were just screaming around the track at over 340 mph! Darryl
Greenamyer has a tricked out Lancair that goes incredibly fast, and the
Thunder Mustang (which would have beaten the Lancair, if it could have held
together long enough) just sounded other-worldly!

After scouting out the vendors (this was, after all, a shopping trip for our
new Reno Air Racing Suite), we soon settled into the race routine. A race
would take place (qualifying heats, early on), followed by an airshow
performance, followed by a military flight demonstration -- and then another
race would start. This pattern continued throughout the day, and meant that
there was never a dull moment!

Red Bull Air Race
***************************
The Red Bull Air Race was a new addition this year, and it proved to be
incredibly popular. A timed event, each aerobatic pilot had to fly the
same closed course, marked by giant, inflatable pylons spaced directly in
front of the grandstands. With specific assigned maneuvers, each pilot
threw his plane around the course with wild abandon, to the delight and
amazement of a very jaded and knowledgeable crowd.

The wind was really whipping, which made the course doubly exciting as the
inflatable pylons waved ominously back and forth, seemingly trying to knock
down the planes. They set up three gigantic "jumbotron" TVs out in front of
the crowd, and, with live cameras transmitting from inside the cockpits, you
could clearly see those giant pylons waving to and fro as each competitor
knifed between them!

Coolest of all: Each pilot had to do a touch-and-go landing, on a 4 foot
patch of yellow chalk right in front of the stands -- coming out of a loop!
If they missed, it was a huge penalty.

Exciting doesn't describe it!

The Jet Class
***************************
This year the jets -- all Czech L-39s -- had a real race and class of their
own. (Apparently they've only flown exhibition races till now.) These
races are all decided by piloting skill, since the aircraft themselves are
virtually identical, and they really whip around that course. They lack
the thunder and drama of the unlimiteds, but they are still very, very cool.
(Especially since those guys are flying around in pressurized, air
conditioned comfort, unlike the rest of the field!)

The Unlimiteds
***************************
Of course, the Unlimiteds are what everyone goes to Reno to see. Originally
World War II fighter planes, the top contenders have all long-since been
modified into something far afield from their warbird days. Rare Bear, for
example -- originally a Grumman Bearcat -- has been so highly modified that
it's hard to see any wartime vestiges at all.

Engines are souped up way beyond anything their original designers could
have imagined, pulling twice as much manifold pressure and putting out
double the horsepower. The sound emanating from these engines is absolutely
indescribable, and brought chills up my spine with every lap. To see Dago
Red (what used to be a P-51 Mustang) screaming around the pylons in a
continual, knife-edge left turn, just feet from the ground, was truly an
amazing sight, and one I'll never forget.

The fact that there is almost literally a "Mayday!" declared on every race
indicates how hard these guys are pushing these engines. No one came to
any distress, but the constant danger and risk was thick in the air whenever
those beasts were airborne.

The Pits
***************************
Everyone told us that this was THE place to be -- and they couldn't have
been more right on. The pits are an amazing place to spend the day, with
row after row of incredibly beautiful and complex race planes lined up like
soldiers. Swarming on each plane was a small army of mechanics and support
crew, tweaking, repairing, polishing, and adjusting those high-strung
thoroughbreds to race-day perfection.

Depending on the racer's reputation and stature, you might have five guys
wrenching away in relative anonymity -- or, in the case of the bigger names,
you might have a dozen or more crew members, all wearing uniform shirts,
with dedicated vendors nearby selling everything from "Rare Bear" posters to
"Strega" polo shirts.

The most amazing part, to me, was how approachable everyone was. If you've
ever attended a Formula One race, you know that the pits are accessible, but
only with your eyes. Most of the race teams are all wearing identical jump
suits, and treat visitors at best as if they were invisible.

In Reno, everyone is utterly accessible, even the biggest names. Ask a
mechanic what he's working on, and he'll actually tell you! Strike up a
conversation with any random guy, and you might discover that he's the race
pilot. Everyone is doing what they love most, and they all know how
incredibly special and lucky they are to be there -- so there are no prima
donnas or elitists in the group.

Or, at least, we never met any of them.

A great example: Rare Bear was "making metal" after flying on Wednesday,
and we watched as those guys spent all day (and night!) tracking the source
down to a turbo-supercharger -- which they then completely replaced. We
were able to watch as they did instant oil analysis (they had a lab in their
support semi truck!), and determined that they had, indeed found the
problem, clearing the big plane for racing.

I was able to ask one of their team what was going on, and he actually took
the time to explain what they were doing -- to me, a mere spectator.
Despite the money involved (and there is, indeed, a lot of that) the feeling
of the place was very egalitarian.

Needless to say, we spent most of our time in the pits.

The Organizers
***************************
Our goal for this trip was to assemble enough artwork and memorabilia to
decorate a 590 square foot hot tub suite, which would be called the "Reno
Air Racing Suite." To this end, we scoured the vendors, and purchased
every poster, sticker and patch we could lay our hands on.

At the end of the first day, however, we were noticeably short on stuff,
much to our dismay. The vendors were mostly selling shirts and hats -- not
artwork -- and a lot of other "generic" stuff that simply didn't have the
ring of "Reno"authenticity that we required. As we were looking around for
options, Mary spotted a guy sitting in a golf cart, feet up, doing nothing
at all.

Reasoning that (a) a guy in a golf cart was on-staff, and (b) a guy doing
nothing was probably a big wheel, she struck up a conversation, and
explained our mission to him.

Pay dirt!

His eyes instantly grew animated, and he was obviously excited to hear about
what we were doing at our little hotel. He gave us the location of the
headquarters building, and the name of the head cheese to contact about
obtaining some REAL memorabilia, and wanted to hear all about each suite.
Totally at random we had stumbled across a guy who clearly knew all the
right people, and we walked away marveling at our luck.

Later in the day we headed over to the building -- which turned out to be a
warehouse chock-full of vendor supplies -- and asked around for Mike
Cummings. As luck would have it, the very first guy we asked turned out to
be Mike, and we once again explained our mission, and our desire to create a
unique air racing theme suite.

As our story unfolded (it takes a while to explain our lame-brained notion
of a hotel!), Mike was transformed from mildly interested to visibly
enthused. A mechanic in real life (and a RARA employee for two weeks each
year), Mike seemed to be taken with the concept of a Reno Suite in Iowa (go
figure!), and -- much to our amazement -- he literally dropped EVERYTHING he
was doing to drive us over to another warehouse, at the far end of the
field, where all the old posters and patches from previous years were
stored!

Now, you must remember that Mike was the guy in charge of keeping all the
vendors stocked. As such, his walkie talkie and cell phone were constantly
going off, and a steady stream of people were running in and out, shouting
for more "P-38 shirts, extra large!" on their way through the door. In the
middle of ALL this pandemonium and frenzy, Mike simply listened to our
story, was instantly caught up in it -- and drove us to the far end of the
airport in search of REAL memorabilia.

I was (and still am) dumbfounded at his friendliness and above-and-beyond
hospitality. We spent the next 30 minutes digging through that warehouse,
picking out the best autographed posters and patches from prior years,
surrounded by old and new (yet to be awarded!) race trophies. He even
supplied a large mailing tube, just so we wouldn't wreck our treasure-trove
of posters on the flight home...

He then drove us back to the grounds, all the while asking questions about
the hotel and our flight to Reno. Upon our return he fetched his boss, a
main race organizer (whose name I sadly can't recall), who also seemed
thrilled about what we were doing.

In the end, when I asked Mike what we owed him, he replied "nothing" --
which I simply couldn't believe. He had given us several hundred dollars
of impossible to find memorabilia (and that was at face value!), taken 30
minutes out of what was probably the busiest day of his life -- and he would
take nothing in exchange. I was and remain humbled to know that there are
people in this world like him, and we will always remember Reno not for the
racing, but for the incredible hospitality shown to us by the organizers.

The Weather
***************************
The climate in Reno is high desert, and even though it wasn't particularly
hot (locals were wearing long pants), we were amazed to find ourselves
thirsty ALL the time. I'll bet we consumed a gallon of water apiece each
day, simply because the dryness and wind conspired to desiccate us.

The wind on Friday was incredible. All week we had been watching the prog
charts as a major winter storm loomed off-shore, and ahead of this system
the wind just picked up and never stopped. In Iowa, we might see high
winds associated with a storm system, but rarely in perfect VFR conditions,
and rarely for a long period of time. At Stead, the wind literally blew at
25 knots all day long, with little or no variance or let up. Despite this,
the races went off without delay -- no mean feat in some of those smaller
biplanes!

This wind -- along with abundant sunshine, the high altitude, and low
humidity -- combined to make for a very tiring day. By the end of the day
we were loaded with artwork, tired beyond description -- and literally
getting sand-blasted as we waited for our shuttle bus back to the hotel.

Unfortunately, due to bad traffic and unexpectedly large pre-weekend crowds,
they ran way short of buses, and our wait stretched to over 90 minutes.
Tempers flared and patience grew thin as the sun set and temperatures
dropped, but eventually we were back at the hotel bar enjoying a cold one,
marveling at how we keep experiencing such incredibly good luck with our
crazy hotel endeavor.

Our good cheer didn't last long, however, as we had been keeping a wary eye
on the Weather Channel. After months of drought, it was obvious that a
major weather change was imminent on the west coast, as a tropical storm
coming up the Baja Peninsula was threatening to collide with a cold front
off the Pacific. The talking heads were babbling incessantly about "early
snow at higher elevations," and the prog charts showed no improvement for at
least five days after the front passed.

The deciding factor, however, was the fact that our daughter (back home with
friends) was going to turn eleven on Tuesday. Missing her birthday was NOT
an option, so we reluctantly began making plans for an early departure on
Saturday, rather than waiting till after the final races on Sunday or
Monday....

The Flight Home
***************************
Flight Service indicated that the front wouldn't hit the area until Saturday
afternoon, so our Saturday morning departure would be doable. When we
awakened Saturday morning, however, it was evident that things were
developing more quickly than predicted. Moisture from that tropical storm
was streaming up ahead of the front, causing clouds and some rain showers in
the mountains -- our worst case scenario!

Equally bad, the wind was howling at 15 gusting to 30 -- at sunrise. This
could only mean bad things in the mountains to come.

A helpful briefer went through the litany of conditions, and sadly stated
that Battle Mountain (just the other side of the first set of big mountains
east of Reno) was "mountain tops obscured in mist" -- and pronounced "VFR
not recommended."

He then went on to state that all other reporting stations were good VFR, an
d mentioned that conditions at Battle Mountain were probably a morning thing
that would abate by the time we got there. Apparently this is a not
uncommon condition in the mountains, in the morning, and I was glad to be
talking to an experienced, realistic briefer, rather than the all-too-common
"Chicken Little the sky is falling!" type.

Still, conditions were dicey enough to give me serious pause. We were at
the airport, ready to go -- but should we? We had given up our precious
hotel reservations on a sold-out weekend, so we had no where to stay if we
aborted. Weather conditions were predicted to deteriorate and STAY bad for
the next five days, so getting out soonest seemed like our best choice. My
daughter's birthday loomed large at the end of our rainbow.

I felt myself being cornered into making a "go/no-go" decision based on
factors other than the current conditions, and I was determined NOT to let
those factors influence my decision.

But, of course, they did. Determining that we were safe to depart, and that
clear skies beckoned just beyond Battle Mountain, we launched with some
misgivings into the unknown.

Climbing out of the Reno valley, we were buffeted around pretty good by wind
shear and gusts. I was gratified to see, however, that the scattered clouds
were several thousand feet above the surrounding mountains, and obviously
remained that way as far as the eye could see to the east. At 11,500 feet,
we turned east toward home.

Mary has never liked turbulence, ever since a very bad flight to Oelwein, IA
one winter day several years back, and I could see that she was absolutely
white-knuckled in the right seat. Although the bumps were continuous, I
never thought they approached severe (or even the level we experienced that
fateful day on our way to Oelwein) -- but you could never relax, even for a
minute. All the horror stories about mountain turbulence and planes being
thrown into unusual attitudes had us both completely on edge, and I found
myself actually making the situation worse by over-controlling the plane
when turbulence would toss a wing up or down.

It took a conscious effort to release my claw grip from the yoke, and a few
deep breaths to get myself back to flying the plane with two fingers, rather
than both hands. This, of course, lessened the "induced turbulence"
dramatically, as it always does, and I silently cursed myself for being so
stupid...

Glancing at my GPS, I was heartened to see 165 knots ground speed, meaning
that we would at least get through the mountains quickly. With Mary tuning
in AWOS's ahead, however, it was obvious that Battle Mountain (BAM) was
going to be the gauntlet we needed to cross, as they were reporting lowered
ceilings and virga in all quadrants. With the temperature aloft hovering
around 20 degrees, virga would NOT be a good thing.

As we droned along, a Skylane that had launched just behind us decided to go
IFR, and climbed to 12,000 feet. I thought this was odd, as climbing to
12,000 would put him in the scattered layer (also at the known icing level),
when we were in good VFR down at 11,500. In an effort to help, I made a
PIREP to ATC, stating that we were in "good VFR at 11,500 feet" and gave our
position for the benefit of the 182 pilot. Still, even though I questioned
his judgment, I silently wished that I had his IFR option, and droned
onward.

As we approached BAM, we found ourselves being forced lower by a sloping
cloud deck that had thickened from scattered to broken. We still had
thousands of feet beneath us, and visibility was good, but I decided to use
my moving map to follow I-80 anyway, reasoning that I could always play the
"I follow roads" card if need be. We cheated our altitude down to 11,100
feet in order to remain legally clear of clouds, and proceeded onward,
noting the location of every air strip along the way.

As we approached BAM, it was easy to see what was happening. The skies were
bright and clear in the distance, beyond a lowering veil of virga. This
was clearly the leading edge of the moisture, and it was precipitating out
as it hit the cold, dry air. Not quite a rain shower yet, it was still a
good, five-mile wide chunk of moisture that might result in icing. I aimed
for the brightest spot.

As we passed beneath the virga, I was heartened to penetrate this last line
without the slightest icing. A bit of moisture on the windshield was the
only indication of virga, and we soon broke out into clear air, as far as we
could see! Yahoo!

Suddenly the frequency came alive, as the 182 pilot behind us announced that
he had lost his NAV radios, and would need vectors out of the clouds.
Worse, he was picking up icing, and needed to get lower immediately.

It was apparent (well, I'm guessing here) that he did not have a moving map
GPS on board, but was relying instead on VORs and perhaps DME. Given his
situation, a moving map display would have instantly shown him where I-80's
valley was, and where he could have flown to remain clear of clouds and
icing. The tension in his voice was palpable as ATC vectored him safely to
a position directly behind us, and he was able to lower back into VFR
conditions.

Voice quavering, he announced that he'd "had enough" and was landing at
Battle Mountain. A few minutes later, however, he called back, obviously
relieved, and said that they had "had a change of heart" and were pressing
on to their ultimate destination somewhere in Utah. Mary and I were both
happy to hear that all had ended well for him, but I still can't understand
why he had chosen to climb up into the clouds in those temperatures, in a
Skylane, when we were in good VFR conditions...

Although our weather worries were over, our turbulence problems were not.
Beneath the cloud layers the turbulence was actually suppressed somewhat,
but we were now in the clear air, where the turbulence could really get
wound up. In retrospect we never hit anything beyond moderate
turbulence, but there was simply no way to know what was to come.
Occasionally we would hit an area that felt exactly like driving your car
off of a curb at 30 mph, which would cause us to tense up in preparation for
the worst -- which never came. After 90 minutes of this, however, I
noticed that my shoulders and neck were aching from being knotted into a
constant tension, trying to brace myself for whatever lay ahead.

Was it dangerous? Nope. Was it uncomfortable? For sure -- and I wouldn't
want to do it again.

Luckily our tail wind (albeit not nearly as strong as our headwind had been
three days earlier, naturally) held true, and we were whistling along at 165
knots, leaned way back to 11 gallons per hour. As a result, we were able
to entirely skip our first (of two) fuel stop, and landed instead at Scott's
Bluff, NE. Once again we were fighting the clock, as we were now LOSING
two hours of precious daylight on our flight home. Forced to forego a real
meal, we powered down some peanut butter crackers and a Snickers bar, tanked
up another 65 gallons (at over $3 per gallon), and arched back up into the
sky.

Scott's Bluff marks the end of the real mountains, and luckily the
turbulence lessened dramatically from that point on. With Mary acting as
PIC, we climbed back up to 11.5K in order to catch that big tailwind, and
rode it all the way to Iowa, touching down about 20 minutes after sunset.

Pushing the plane back into the hangar, a full 2-days before anyone expected
us back, we pondered where to sleep. We knew that our hotel, right next
door, was 100% booked for the night -- and we sure didn't want to go home
yet -- but we were too wiped out to drive anywhere.

So, we pulled out our unused camping gear, inflated our queen-sized air
bed -- and enjoyed our best night's sleep of the trip, right there next to
the plane...

What a trip! I don't think we'll ever try it again, but it was worth
doing once. And, boy, are we going to have the greatest "Reno Suite"
anyone has ever seen!

;-)
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Mike Rapoport]

Great story! You should submit it to AvWeb. I'm sure that I am not alone
in looking forward to your stories about getting your IR and a twin!

Mike
MU-2

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message
news:kRE3d.82581$D%.55927@attbi_s51...
> 2600 miles -- in two days. Whew!
>
> We're back from the Reno Air Races (two days early, sadly, to get out
> ahead
> of a winter storm system that rolled into the Rockies on Friday
> afternoon),
> and I'm here to tell you: Reno ROCKS!
>
> I've never seen anything quite like it. In Reno, aircraft engines that
> were
> designed to put out "only" 1500 horsepower are being pushed to over 3000
> horsepower, and are powering aircraft around an 8 mile oval course at over
> 500 mph, just a few feet off the ground, and just a few feet apart. To
> say
> it's exciting is a major understatement: It quite literally makes NASCAR
> look like a walk in the park.
>
> But I'm ahead of myself...
>
> The Flight Out
> ***************************
> Our flight started inauspiciously enough, with a line of showers and
> thunderstorms working it's way into Iowa as we tried to depart at sunrise.
> After waiting a bit to see how things would develop, it soon became
> apparent
> that we either launched now, or we'd be stuck waiting till the front blew
> through later that night. Since weak Midwestern summertime fronts are
> usually spotty and easily circumnavigated, we launched, with the knowledge
> that we might end up spending the night somewhere west of Des Moines.
>
> With Mary acting as PIC, we cautiously worked our way west, listening
> ahead
> to AWOSs, and aiming for the lighter areas of cloud cover. The ceiling
> never
> dropped below 3,000 feet, and visibility was good as we picked our way
> through light rain showers to the other side of the state. After passing
> through one last line just east of Omaha, we broke out into glorious
> sunshine and unlimited ceilings as far as the eye could see, as we winged
> our way across Nebraska. Things were looking up! (And we never saw
> another cloud, all the way to the west coast!)
>
> (An aside: For the first time, ever, we were able to see a full, 100%
> circular rainbow from the air. To see a round, 360 degree rainbow was
> worth the price of admission right then and there! What percentage of
> humans has ever seen one? It can't be very high...)
>
> Relaxing, I did a double-take as I checked our GPS ground speed -- 88
> knots!
> Atlas usually trues out around 140 knots, so we were in for a looong day
> if
> this kind of head-wind persisted. Luckily, the air was smooth at 8,500
> feet, so we just loosened up the seat belts, turned on the autopilot, and
> popped in another CD -- there was not much else we could do.
>
> At last, Alliance, NE -- our first stop -- crept into view, with our
> ground
> speed hovering around a disastrous 100 knots. Instead of taking 3.5
> hours,
> this first leg had taken close to five -- and we weren't even a third of
> the
> way to Reno!
>
> Alliance was chosen because (a) Jim Weir said they carried mogas, and
> because (b) according to AOPA, they had a restaurant on the field. Well,
> we managed to buy their last 50 gallons of mogas (which, according to the
> FBO owner, they'll never be able to sell it again, due to insurance
> restrictions), had to take the rest in avgas -- and found that the
> restaurant had closed back in 1997. (Thanks AOPA!)
>
> So, we borrowed their van and drove into Alliance for an outstanding
> country
> breakfast at Ben and Mel's (or something like that) -- with great food,
> ugly
> waitresses, and cheap prices. My kind of place!
>
> Refreshed, we launched again into clear blue skies with me as PIC,
> wondering
> what this headwind was going to do in the mountains ahead. Of course, we
> were approaching the mountains at mid-day -- the worst possible time for
> turbulence, according to the many mountain flying sources we consulted
> before this flight. Sadly, however, we discovered that when you live in
> Iowa there simply isn't much choice but to fly across them at mid-day,
> unless you want to take two days to get to Reno.
>
> Since we didn't have that kind of luxury, we simply took our chances with
> the bumps...
>
> Our ground speed gradually picked up to a more respectable 125 knots --
> but
> we continued to fall way behind schedule. As we passed Scott's Bluff the
> terrain became more and more forbidding, with less evidence of human
> habitation with every passing mile. Soon the foothills gave way to
> mountains, which, to this flat-lander, looked pretty danged big indeed!
>
> Atlas was running like a champ, as always, but we were sure wishing he was
> turbo-charged as we droned along. At 10,500 feet, we were only able to
> pull
> around 19 inches of manifold pressure, which sure didn't give us much
> "ooomph" -- and the really big stuff still lay ahead. Occasionally we'd
> hit
> a smoothly rising pocket of air, and I'd have to push over to maintain
> altitude. During these brief spells, our ground speed would approach a
> more
> normal 135 knots -- but the inevitable sinking pocket of air would soon
> follow, necessitating a pull back to maintain altitude. During these
> spells, ground speed would decay to an abysmal 85 knots.
>
> By the end of the flight my left arm was noticeably sore from fighting
> this
> up/down tendency, but that lay ahead...
>
> Luckily, despite the strong winds aloft, we didn't hit any bad mountain
> turbulence, and we were able to truly appreciate the majesty and glory of
> the mountains from our tall -- if slow -- perch. Moments of spiritual
> contemplation were broken only by the discomfiting knowledge that any
> engine
> failure would likely be unsurvivable, as we crossed ridge after ridge of
> ever-higher mountains. For the first time in my flying life, I longed for
> a
> twin engined plane...
>
> Flying VOR to VOR (only because they are placed in the lowest points in
> the
> valley), our moving map GPS at last displayed Ogden, Utah creeping into
> range. The approach into Ogden was truly spectacular, as we crossed
> through
> a high pass at 10,500 feet, and then rapidly descended to land at the
> Ogden
> airport down at 4500 feet or so. Skimming through the pass, with pine
> trees and rocks seemingly just a few feet away, only to have the whole
> world
> drop out from beneath you to reveal the great Salt Lake basin beyond, is a
> truly wondrous experience!
>
> With a quick gas up in Ogden (I knew we were in trouble when the line guys
> were wearing ties -- the gas was $3.07 a gallon, and we needed over 60
> gallons again), we were on our way to Reno, with no further stops planned.
> After almost 8 hours in the air, and constant exposure to high altitude,
> we
> were starting to feel pretty tired, but knowing the goal was in reach kept
> us enthused. However, I was glad to let "Otto" fly the plane as we simply
> monitored our progress on the maps, making minor course corrections and
> watching as Reno inched ever closer.
>
> Our plan was to land at Grass Valley, CA, in order to camp in Jim Weir's
> yard for the night, followed by a return to Reno for a few days of hotels.
> However, as we pressed westward, our ground speed never consistently
> exceeded 130 knots, and our "easy" flight to Jim's was looking less and
> less
> likely. A quick check with a bored military controller just west of Salt
> Lake City confirmed that the sun would set in Reno just past 7 PM, and --
> despite picking up two hours as we crossed from Central to Mountain to
> Pacific daylight times -- it was looking like we might have to stop
> somewhere short of Jim's for the night.
>
> In fact, as we crossed Winnemucca, Nevada, our ETA to Reno was clicking
> down
> precisely to sunset, so we knew that we weren't going to be seeing Jim or
> Gail that night. It's one thing for a couple of dumb flat-landers to
> tempt
> the Rockies in a single engine plane in the daytime -- it's another thing
> entirely to try crossing them in the dark!
>
> We at last touched down at Reno International just after sunset, an
> incredible 12+ hours of flight-time after leaving Iowa City. Our
> estimated
> flight time had expanded exponentially, but we were, at last, safe on the
> ground.
>
> We chose to park at Sierra, assuming that we'd only be there one night.
> Even though it was only Wednesday, there were aircraft parked EVERYWHERE.
> Fortunately, we got one of their last three single-engine aircraft parking
> spots, for which they "only" charged us $25 per night -- and gas was a
> painful $3.37 per gallon! Since we once again needed over 65 gallons,
> Reno
> proved to be the most expensive single fuel stop we'd ever experienced!
>
> The folks there were very helpful, however, and gave us a ride to the
> commercial side of the airport, where we could catch our hotel's airport
> shuttle bus. Within an hour I was sitting in a casino restaurant, dizzy
> with fatigue after 12+ hours in the plane -- but glad (and somewhat
> amazed)
> to at last be in Reno!
>
> The Hotel
> ***************************
> The next morning we "slept in" till 7 AM local time -- 9 AM our time --
> and
> started preparing for a day at the races. After pondering our options, we
> soon realized that -- given the parking situation -- if we were to fly up
> to
> Jim and Gail's for the day, we would not be able to return to Reno. This
> would leave us with the sorry option of driving back and forth each day,
> which was not something we wanted to deal with all weekend -- we were
> there
> to see RACING!
>
> So, a quick call to Gail allowed us to sadly beg off of our commitment to
> use their shower and eat their food (I suspect they weren't quite as
> disappointed as we were!), and we opted to "hotel it" for the remainder of
> our stay.
>
> The Silver Legacy hotel turned out to be the perfect solution to seeing
> the
> Reno Air Races. Located in downtown Reno, it joins seamlessly with the
> Circus Circus and Eldorado casinos, providing easy access to their many
> restaurants and bars. Mary and I both hate to lose money, so we never
> really checked out the gambling options -- but, for those who care about
> such things, they were obvious and plentiful.
>
> Best of all, the hotels were running a continuous shuttle bus out to the
> race site, Stead Airport. The bus was a bit pricey, at $16 apiece round
> trip -- but eliminating the "hassle factor" made it well worth it. (And
> auto parking was 8 bucks, which made the bus look even better.)
>
> If we are ever lucky enough to return to Reno, we will go back to the
> Silver
> Legacy.
>
> The Races
> ***************************
> Upon arrival we found the ticket booths to be well-staffed, and we were
> soon
> inside the grounds, marveling at the huge, purpose-built grandstands that
> edged the airport ramp. Having spent many years at airports, ones eyes
> have
> grown accustomed to seeing certain things: A beacon. Gas pumps. An FBO.
> A wind tee. Mary and I both agreed that grandstands and bleachers looked
> decidedly out of place!
>
> But what a view from up there! I didn't realize that you could actually
> see
> the entire race course from in the stands, but due to the gradually rising
> terrain and the height of the stands, you can easily follow the entire
> race.
> The race course is in a bowl, mostly ringed by mountains, which provide a
> marvelous backdrop to the world's fastest motor sport.
>
> And, wow, are they fast! When we arrived they were doing a T-6 race,
> which
> looked pretty fast to my newbie eyes. In this class, because the aircraft
> are so similar, the race is decided mostly by skill, rather than by brute
> horsepower. (An aside: In years past, the T-6s were always the "middle
> fast" race, with the biplanes occupying the "slowest of the bunch"
> category.
> This year, some highly modified biplanes actually exceeded the T-6 race
> speeds, relegating the T-6 drivers to the "slowest" category for the first
> time. I imagine this didn't sit well with those guys!) The winner
> looked
> like he was flying on rails, and his consistency was obviously the key to
> success.
>
> They then ran a Sport Class race, which is run on a smaller course -- and
> those guys were just screaming around the track at over 340 mph! Darryl
> Greenamyer has a tricked out Lancair that goes incredibly fast, and the
> Thunder Mustang (which would have beaten the Lancair, if it could have
> held
> together long enough) just sounded other-worldly!
>
> After scouting out the vendors (this was, after all, a shopping trip for
> our
> new Reno Air Racing Suite), we soon settled into the race routine. A
> race
> would take place (qualifying heats, early on), followed by an airshow
> performance, followed by a military flight demonstration -- and then
> another
> race would start. This pattern continued throughout the day, and meant
> that
> there was never a dull moment!
>
> Red Bull Air Race
> ***************************
> The Red Bull Air Race was a new addition this year, and it proved to be
> incredibly popular. A timed event, each aerobatic pilot had to fly the
> same closed course, marked by giant, inflatable pylons spaced directly in
> front of the grandstands. With specific assigned maneuvers, each pilot
> threw his plane around the course with wild abandon, to the delight and
> amazement of a very jaded and knowledgeable crowd.
>
> The wind was really whipping, which made the course doubly exciting as the
> inflatable pylons waved ominously back and forth, seemingly trying to
> knock
> down the planes. They set up three gigantic "jumbotron" TVs out in front
> of
> the crowd, and, with live cameras transmitting from inside the cockpits,
> you
> could clearly see those giant pylons waving to and fro as each competitor
> knifed between them!
>
> Coolest of all: Each pilot had to do a touch-and-go landing, on a 4 foot
> patch of yellow chalk right in front of the stands -- coming out of a
> loop!
> If they missed, it was a huge penalty.
>
> Exciting doesn't describe it!
>
> The Jet Class
> ***************************
> This year the jets -- all Czech L-39s -- had a real race and class of
> their
> own. (Apparently they've only flown exhibition races till now.) These
> races are all decided by piloting skill, since the aircraft themselves are
> virtually identical, and they really whip around that course. They lack
> the thunder and drama of the unlimiteds, but they are still very, very
> cool.
> (Especially since those guys are flying around in pressurized, air
> conditioned comfort, unlike the rest of the field!)
>
> The Unlimiteds
> ***************************
> Of course, the Unlimiteds are what everyone goes to Reno to see.
> Originally
> World War II fighter planes, the top contenders have all long-since been
> modified into something far afield from their warbird days. Rare Bear,
> for
> example -- originally a Grumman Bearcat -- has been so highly modified
> that
> it's hard to see any wartime vestiges at all.
>
> Engines are souped up way beyond anything their original designers could
> have imagined, pulling twice as much manifold pressure and putting out
> double the horsepower. The sound emanating from these engines is
> absolutely
> indescribable, and brought chills up my spine with every lap. To see
> Dago
> Red (what used to be a P-51 Mustang) screaming around the pylons in a
> continual, knife-edge left turn, just feet from the ground, was truly an
> amazing sight, and one I'll never forget.
>
> The fact that there is almost literally a "Mayday!" declared on every race
> indicates how hard these guys are pushing these engines. No one came to
> any distress, but the constant danger and risk was thick in the air
> whenever
> those beasts were airborne.
>
> The Pits
> ***************************
> Everyone told us that this was THE place to be -- and they couldn't have
> been more right on. The pits are an amazing place to spend the day, with
> row after row of incredibly beautiful and complex race planes lined up
> like
> soldiers. Swarming on each plane was a small army of mechanics and
> support
> crew, tweaking, repairing, polishing, and adjusting those high-strung
> thoroughbreds to race-day perfection.
>
> Depending on the racer's reputation and stature, you might have five guys
> wrenching away in relative anonymity -- or, in the case of the bigger
> names,
> you might have a dozen or more crew members, all wearing uniform shirts,
> with dedicated vendors nearby selling everything from "Rare Bear" posters
> to
> "Strega" polo shirts.
>
> The most amazing part, to me, was how approachable everyone was. If
> you've
> ever attended a Formula One race, you know that the pits are accessible,
> but
> only with your eyes. Most of the race teams are all wearing identical
> jump
> suits, and treat visitors at best as if they were invisible.
>
> In Reno, everyone is utterly accessible, even the biggest names. Ask a
> mechanic what he's working on, and he'll actually tell you! Strike up a
> conversation with any random guy, and you might discover that he's the
> race
> pilot. Everyone is doing what they love most, and they all know how
> incredibly special and lucky they are to be there -- so there are no prima
> donnas or elitists in the group.
>
> Or, at least, we never met any of them.
>
> A great example: Rare Bear was "making metal" after flying on Wednesday,
> and we watched as those guys spent all day (and night!) tracking the
> source
> down to a turbo-supercharger -- which they then completely replaced. We
> were able to watch as they did instant oil analysis (they had a lab in
> their
> support semi truck!), and determined that they had, indeed found the
> problem, clearing the big plane for racing.
>
> I was able to ask one of their team what was going on, and he actually
> took
> the time to explain what they were doing -- to me, a mere spectator.
> Despite the money involved (and there is, indeed, a lot of that) the
> feeling
> of the place was very egalitarian.
>
> Needless to say, we spent most of our time in the pits.
>
> The Organizers
> ***************************
> Our goal for this trip was to assemble enough artwork and memorabilia to
> decorate a 590 square foot hot tub suite, which would be called the "Reno
> Air Racing Suite." To this end, we scoured the vendors, and purchased
> every poster, sticker and patch we could lay our hands on.
>
> At the end of the first day, however, we were noticeably short on stuff,
> much to our dismay. The vendors were mostly selling shirts and hats --
> not
> artwork -- and a lot of other "generic" stuff that simply didn't have the
> ring of "Reno"authenticity that we required. As we were looking around
> for
> options, Mary spotted a guy sitting in a golf cart, feet up, doing nothing
> at all.
>
> Reasoning that (a) a guy in a golf cart was on-staff, and (b) a guy doing
> nothing was probably a big wheel, she struck up a conversation, and
> explained our mission to him.
>
> Pay dirt!
>
> His eyes instantly grew animated, and he was obviously excited to hear
> about
> what we were doing at our little hotel. He gave us the location of the
> headquarters building, and the name of the head cheese to contact about
> obtaining some REAL memorabilia, and wanted to hear all about each suite.
> Totally at random we had stumbled across a guy who clearly knew all the
> right people, and we walked away marveling at our luck.
>
> Later in the day we headed over to the building -- which turned out to be
> a
> warehouse chock-full of vendor supplies -- and asked around for Mike
> Cummings. As luck would have it, the very first guy we asked turned out
> to
> be Mike, and we once again explained our mission, and our desire to create
> a
> unique air racing theme suite.
>
> As our story unfolded (it takes a while to explain our lame-brained notion
> of a hotel!), Mike was transformed from mildly interested to visibly
> enthused. A mechanic in real life (and a RARA employee for two weeks each
> year), Mike seemed to be taken with the concept of a Reno Suite in Iowa
> (go
> figure!), and -- much to our amazement -- he literally dropped EVERYTHING
> he
> was doing to drive us over to another warehouse, at the far end of the
> field, where all the old posters and patches from previous years were
> stored!
>
> Now, you must remember that Mike was the guy in charge of keeping all the
> vendors stocked. As such, his walkie talkie and cell phone were
> constantly
> going off, and a steady stream of people were running in and out, shouting
> for more "P-38 shirts, extra large!" on their way through the door. In
> the
> middle of ALL this pandemonium and frenzy, Mike simply listened to our
> story, was instantly caught up in it -- and drove us to the far end of the
> airport in search of REAL memorabilia.
>
> I was (and still am) dumbfounded at his friendliness and above-and-beyond
> hospitality. We spent the next 30 minutes digging through that
> warehouse,
> picking out the best autographed posters and patches from prior years,
> surrounded by old and new (yet to be awarded!) race trophies. He even
> supplied a large mailing tube, just so we wouldn't wreck our
> treasure-trove
> of posters on the flight home...
>
> He then drove us back to the grounds, all the while asking questions about
> the hotel and our flight to Reno. Upon our return he fetched his boss, a
> main race organizer (whose name I sadly can't recall), who also seemed
> thrilled about what we were doing.
>
> In the end, when I asked Mike what we owed him, he replied "nothing" --
> which I simply couldn't believe. He had given us several hundred dollars
> of impossible to find memorabilia (and that was at face value!), taken 30
> minutes out of what was probably the busiest day of his life -- and he
> would
> take nothing in exchange. I was and remain humbled to know that there are
> people in this world like him, and we will always remember Reno not for
> the
> racing, but for the incredible hospitality shown to us by the organizers.
>
> The Weather
> ***************************
> The climate in Reno is high desert, and even though it wasn't particularly
> hot (locals were wearing long pants), we were amazed to find ourselves
> thirsty ALL the time. I'll bet we consumed a gallon of water apiece each
> day, simply because the dryness and wind conspired to desiccate us.
>
> The wind on Friday was incredible. All week we had been watching the prog
> charts as a major winter storm loomed off-shore, and ahead of this system
> the wind just picked up and never stopped. In Iowa, we might see high
> winds associated with a storm system, but rarely in perfect VFR
> conditions,
> and rarely for a long period of time. At Stead, the wind literally blew
> at
> 25 knots all day long, with little or no variance or let up. Despite
> this,
> the races went off without delay -- no mean feat in some of those smaller
> biplanes!
>
> This wind -- along with abundant sunshine, the high altitude, and low
> humidity -- combined to make for a very tiring day. By the end of the
> day
> we were loaded with artwork, tired beyond description -- and literally
> getting sand-blasted as we waited for our shuttle bus back to the hotel.
>
> Unfortunately, due to bad traffic and unexpectedly large pre-weekend
> crowds,
> they ran way short of buses, and our wait stretched to over 90 minutes.
> Tempers flared and patience grew thin as the sun set and temperatures
> dropped, but eventually we were back at the hotel bar enjoying a cold one,
> marveling at how we keep experiencing such incredibly good luck with our
> crazy hotel endeavor.
>
> Our good cheer didn't last long, however, as we had been keeping a wary
> eye
> on the Weather Channel. After months of drought, it was obvious that a
> major weather change was imminent on the west coast, as a tropical storm
> coming up the Baja Peninsula was threatening to collide with a cold front
> off the Pacific. The talking heads were babbling incessantly about
> "early
> snow at higher elevations," and the prog charts showed no improvement for
> at
> least five days after the front passed.
>
> The deciding factor, however, was the fact that our daughter (back home
> with
> friends) was going to turn eleven on Tuesday. Missing her birthday was
> NOT
> an option, so we reluctantly began making plans for an early departure on
> Saturday, rather than waiting till after the final races on Sunday or
> Monday....
>
> The Flight Home
> ***************************
> Flight Service indicated that the front wouldn't hit the area until
> Saturday
> afternoon, so our Saturday morning departure would be doable. When we
> awakened Saturday morning, however, it was evident that things were
> developing more quickly than predicted. Moisture from that tropical storm
> was streaming up ahead of the front, causing clouds and some rain showers
> in
> the mountains -- our worst case scenario!
>
> Equally bad, the wind was howling at 15 gusting to 30 -- at sunrise. This
> could only mean bad things in the mountains to come.
>
> A helpful briefer went through the litany of conditions, and sadly stated
> that Battle Mountain (just the other side of the first set of big
> mountains
> east of Reno) was "mountain tops obscured in mist" -- and pronounced "VFR
> not recommended."
>
> He then went on to state that all other reporting stations were good VFR,
> an
> d mentioned that conditions at Battle Mountain were probably a morning
> thing
> that would abate by the time we got there. Apparently this is a not
> uncommon condition in the mountains, in the morning, and I was glad to be
> talking to an experienced, realistic briefer, rather than the
> all-too-common
> "Chicken Little the sky is falling!" type.
>
> Still, conditions were dicey enough to give me serious pause. We were at
> the airport, ready to go -- but should we? We had given up our precious
> hotel reservations on a sold-out weekend, so we had no where to stay if we
> aborted. Weather conditions were predicted to deteriorate and STAY bad
> for
> the next five days, so getting out soonest seemed like our best choice.
> My
> daughter's birthday loomed large at the end of our rainbow.
>
> I felt myself being cornered into making a "go/no-go" decision based on
> factors other than the current conditions, and I was determined NOT to let
> those factors influence my decision.
>
> But, of course, they did. Determining that we were safe to depart, and
> that
> clear skies beckoned just beyond Battle Mountain, we launched with some
> misgivings into the unknown.
>
> Climbing out of the Reno valley, we were buffeted around pretty good by
> wind
> shear and gusts. I was gratified to see, however, that the scattered
> clouds
> were several thousand feet above the surrounding mountains, and obviously
> remained that way as far as the eye could see to the east. At 11,500
> feet,
> we turned east toward home.
>
> Mary has never liked turbulence, ever since a very bad flight to Oelwein,
> IA
> one winter day several years back, and I could see that she was absolutely
> white-knuckled in the right seat. Although the bumps were continuous, I
> never thought they approached severe (or even the level we experienced
> that
> fateful day on our way to Oelwein) -- but you could never relax, even for
> a
> minute. All the horror stories about mountain turbulence and planes being
> thrown into unusual attitudes had us both completely on edge, and I found
> myself actually making the situation worse by over-controlling the plane
> when turbulence would toss a wing up or down.
>
> It took a conscious effort to release my claw grip from the yoke, and a
> few
> deep breaths to get myself back to flying the plane with two fingers,
> rather
> than both hands. This, of course, lessened the "induced turbulence"
> dramatically, as it always does, and I silently cursed myself for being so
> stupid...
>
> Glancing at my GPS, I was heartened to see 165 knots ground speed, meaning
> that we would at least get through the mountains quickly. With Mary
> tuning
> in AWOS's ahead, however, it was obvious that Battle Mountain (BAM) was
> going to be the gauntlet we needed to cross, as they were reporting
> lowered
> ceilings and virga in all quadrants. With the temperature aloft hovering
> around 20 degrees, virga would NOT be a good thing.
>
> As we droned along, a Skylane that had launched just behind us decided to
> go
> IFR, and climbed to 12,000 feet. I thought this was odd, as climbing to
> 12,000 would put him in the scattered layer (also at the known icing
> level),
> when we were in good VFR down at 11,500. In an effort to help, I made a
> PIREP to ATC, stating that we were in "good VFR at 11,500 feet" and gave
> our
> position for the benefit of the 182 pilot. Still, even though I
> questioned
> his judgment, I silently wished that I had his IFR option, and droned
> onward.
>
> As we approached BAM, we found ourselves being forced lower by a sloping
> cloud deck that had thickened from scattered to broken. We still had
> thousands of feet beneath us, and visibility was good, but I decided to
> use
> my moving map to follow I-80 anyway, reasoning that I could always play
> the
> "I follow roads" card if need be. We cheated our altitude down to 11,100
> feet in order to remain legally clear of clouds, and proceeded onward,
> noting the location of every air strip along the way.
>
> As we approached BAM, it was easy to see what was happening. The skies
> were
> bright and clear in the distance, beyond a lowering veil of virga. This
> was clearly the leading edge of the moisture, and it was precipitating out
> as it hit the cold, dry air. Not quite a rain shower yet, it was still a
> good, five-mile wide chunk of moisture that might result in icing. I
> aimed
> for the brightest spot.
>
> As we passed beneath the virga, I was heartened to penetrate this last
> line
> without the slightest icing. A bit of moisture on the windshield was the
> only indication of virga, and we soon broke out into clear air, as far as
> we
> could see! Yahoo!
>
> Suddenly the frequency came alive, as the 182 pilot behind us announced
> that
> he had lost his NAV radios, and would need vectors out of the clouds.
> Worse, he was picking up icing, and needed to get lower immediately.
>
> It was apparent (well, I'm guessing here) that he did not have a moving
> map
> GPS on board, but was relying instead on VORs and perhaps DME. Given his
> situation, a moving map display would have instantly shown him where
> I-80's
> valley was, and where he could have flown to remain clear of clouds and
> icing. The tension in his voice was palpable as ATC vectored him safely
> to
> a position directly behind us, and he was able to lower back into VFR
> conditions.
>
> Voice quavering, he announced that he'd "had enough" and was landing at
> Battle Mountain. A few minutes later, however, he called back, obviously
> relieved, and said that they had "had a change of heart" and were pressing
> on to their ultimate destination somewhere in Utah. Mary and I were both
> happy to hear that all had ended well for him, but I still can't
> understand
> why he had chosen to climb up into the clouds in those temperatures, in a
> Skylane, when we were in good VFR conditions...
>
> Although our weather worries were over, our turbulence problems were not.
> Beneath the cloud layers the turbulence was actually suppressed somewhat,
> but we were now in the clear air, where the turbulence could really get
> wound up. In retrospect we never hit anything beyond moderate
> turbulence, but there was simply no way to know what was to come.
> Occasionally we would hit an area that felt exactly like driving your car
> off of a curb at 30 mph, which would cause us to tense up in preparation
> for
> the worst -- which never came. After 90 minutes of this, however, I
> noticed that my shoulders and neck were aching from being knotted into a
> constant tension, trying to brace myself for whatever lay ahead.
>
> Was it dangerous? Nope. Was it uncomfortable? For sure -- and I
> wouldn't
> want to do it again.
>
> Luckily our tail wind (albeit not nearly as strong as our headwind had
> been
> three days earlier, naturally) held true, and we were whistling along at
> 165
> knots, leaned way back to 11 gallons per hour. As a result, we were able
> to entirely skip our first (of two) fuel stop, and landed instead at
> Scott's
> Bluff, NE. Once again we were fighting the clock, as we were now LOSING
> two hours of precious daylight on our flight home. Forced to forego a real
> meal, we powered down some peanut butter crackers and a Snickers bar,
> tanked
> up another 65 gallons (at over $3 per gallon), and arched back up into the
> sky.
>
> Scott's Bluff marks the end of the real mountains, and luckily the
> turbulence lessened dramatically from that point on. With Mary acting as
> PIC, we climbed back up to 11.5K in order to catch that big tailwind, and
> rode it all the way to Iowa, touching down about 20 minutes after sunset.
>
> Pushing the plane back into the hangar, a full 2-days before anyone
> expected
> us back, we pondered where to sleep. We knew that our hotel, right next
> door, was 100% booked for the night -- and we sure didn't want to go home
> yet -- but we were too wiped out to drive anywhere.
>
> So, we pulled out our unused camping gear, inflated our queen-sized air
> bed -- and enjoyed our best night's sleep of the trip, right there next to
> the plane...
>
> What a trip! I don't think we'll ever try it again, but it was worth
> doing once. And, boy, are we going to have the greatest "Reno Suite"
> anyone has ever seen!
>
> ;-)
> --
> Jay Honeck
> Iowa City, IA
> Pathfinder N56993
> www.AlexisParkInn.com
> "Your Aviation Destination"
>
>

[kage]

Jay,

Nice message.

But, despite your barb on the instrument pilot, you have to remember that
you are only half a pilot without the instrument rating.

Karl

[Jack Allison]

Glad to hear you got back ok and in time Jay. I wound up going out to
the races Saturday, arriving just before 8:00. Heck, I even managed to
park for free (after deciding that if I had to pay, my $5 would go to
the Boy Scouts).

I pretty much hung out in the stands enjoying all of the races,
demonstrations, and aerobatic performances. Wish I could have hooked up
with you guys...but that's how it goes sometimes. It was pretty cold
Saturday and was supposed to be colder Sunday. We had a T-storm drop 2
inches of rain in parts of the Sacramento area on Sunday. Yep, you guys
would have been stuck for a few more days had you stayed.

Let's see...Reno...Ogden...Scott's Bluff...Alliance...yep, been to all
of them in the last two years on our way to/from OSH. That arrival into
Ogden from the East is very cool.

Looking forward to seeing pictures of the Reno air race suite. Glad you
guys had a great trip out here in the land of the left coast...well,
er...closer to the left coast anyway. Only a short hop across the
Sierra's and you'd officially have been here :-)

Jack


--
Jack Allison
PP-ASEL, IA Student

"When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the Earth
with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there
you will always long to return"
- Leonardo Da Vinci

(Remove the obvious from address to reply via e-mail)

[Bruce E Butts]

Wow!! Great Story!!! I have seen a circular rainbow too but only after
I got too close to a thunderstorm and was not happy about it!

Keep writing and do submit this as a travelogue/trip report to someone,
this is too good not to be published.

Thanks for the story.
Bruce.

[Casey Wilson]

Hi Jay,

Thanks for giving us a chance to tag along on your trip. Great story!
I'll take an opportunity here to make a suggestion for the next trip
coming out this way. You wrote:

> Occasionally we'd hit
> a smoothly rising pocket of air, and I'd have to push over to maintain
> altitude. During these brief spells, our ground speed would approach a
more
> normal 135 knots -- but the inevitable sinking pocket of air would soon
> follow, necessitating a pull back to maintain altitude. During these
> spells, ground speed would decay to an abysmal 85 knots.

Most of us just "ride the wave." It took me a couple of trips and some
hangar flying with an old timer to get the idea. If you're VFR, why worry
about going uphill for a while as long as its free. Sometimes, we'll even
pull the speed back a little on the way up to make it last longer. Then, on
the down side, power back up and go through the 'sink' faster. The net
result is usually a little free altitude and some gas savings. Try it next
time -- and I'm betting there will be a next time.

Regards,

Casey

[MLenoch]

>The most amazing part, to me, was how approachable everyone was.

>In Reno, everyone is utterly accessible, even the biggest names. Ask a
>mechanic what he's working on, and he'll actually tell you!

This is truely the best part of Reno Racing!
VL

[Toks Desalu]

Thanks for sharing this story with us. I enjoyed it.

Toks Desalu

[john smith]

You might want to consider pressure system flying if the alignments are
close to your eventual destination. When flying the distance you did,
the tailwinds can sometimes make up for the extra milage.

[Jay Honeck]

> Most of us just "ride the wave." It took me a couple of trips and
some
> hangar flying with an old timer to get the idea. If you're VFR, why worry
> about going uphill for a while as long as its free.

Well, if I had been at 9500 or lower, I'd have done just that, probably.
But at 10.5 or 11.5, we're already close to an altitude where oxygen would
be good to have (I know this flat-lander was awfully tired after spending an
entire workday above 11,000 feet), and I didn't want to go any higher.

I thought about riding the downdrafts down, but I didn't know where they
would stop! And that cumulo-granite sure looked hard...

;-)
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Jay Honeck]

> I pretty much hung out in the stands enjoying all of the races,
> demonstrations, and aerobatic performances. Wish I could have hooked up
> with you guys...but that's how it goes sometimes.

Yeah, that's our only regret with this entire adventure: We simply couldn't
hook up with the people we wanted to see!

We missed you, we missed Jim & Gail, we missed my best friend from college
(who lives just north of Jim & Gail) -- hell, we even missed meeting folks
from Iowa City who flew to Reno commercial!

> It was pretty cold
> Saturday and was supposed to be colder Sunday. We had a T-storm drop 2
> inches of rain in parts of the Sacramento area on Sunday. Yep, you guys
> would have been stuck for a few more days had you stayed.

Glad to hear it, sort of. It's always nice to know that we made the right
decision.

After watching the Weather Channel I was gratified to see widespread
showers, thunderstorms, and snow covering pretty much everything west of
Scott's Bluff, Nebraska. It's too bad that your drought couldn't have hung
on for another few days, but oh, well. We accomplished everything we
wanted -- and more -- on this trip!
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[john smith]

Just courious, and some people may consider this too much information,
but... what do you do for relief on those long legs?

[BTIZ]

sounds great Jay.. and your first trip to Reno and your first trip through
real mountains..

I lucked out, on my trip to Reno years ago, I had a friend who had a friend
that was racing in the Formula V aircraft.. so I became an instant assistant
in the Pitts..

I look forward to seeing pictures of the Reno Trip.

BT

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message
news:kRE3d.82581$D%.55927@attbi_s51...
> 2600 miles -- in two days. Whew!
>
> We're back from the Reno Air Races (two days early, sadly, to get out
ahead
> of a winter storm system that rolled into the Rockies on Friday
afternoon),
> and I'm here to tell you: Reno ROCKS!
>
> I've never seen anything quite like it. In Reno, aircraft engines that
were
> designed to put out "only" 1500 horsepower are being pushed to over 3000
> horsepower, and are powering aircraft around an 8 mile oval course at over
> 500 mph, just a few feet off the ground, and just a few feet apart. To
say
> it's exciting is a major understatement: It quite literally makes NASCAR
> look like a walk in the park.
>
> But I'm ahead of myself...
>
> The Flight Out
> ***************************
> Our flight started inauspiciously enough, with a line of showers and
> thunderstorms working it's way into Iowa as we tried to depart at sunrise.
> After waiting a bit to see how things would develop, it soon became
apparent
> that we either launched now, or we'd be stuck waiting till the front blew
> through later that night. Since weak Midwestern summertime fronts are
> usually spotty and easily circumnavigated, we launched, with the knowledge
> that we might end up spending the night somewhere west of Des Moines.
>
> With Mary acting as PIC, we cautiously worked our way west, listening
ahead
> to AWOSs, and aiming for the lighter areas of cloud cover. The ceiling
never
> dropped below 3,000 feet, and visibility was good as we picked our way
> through light rain showers to the other side of the state. After passing
> through one last line just east of Omaha, we broke out into glorious
> sunshine and unlimited ceilings as far as the eye could see, as we winged
> our way across Nebraska. Things were looking up! (And we never saw
> another cloud, all the way to the west coast!)
>
> (An aside: For the first time, ever, we were able to see a full, 100%
> circular rainbow from the air. To see a round, 360 degree rainbow was
> worth the price of admission right then and there! What percentage of
> humans has ever seen one? It can't be very high...)
>
> Relaxing, I did a double-take as I checked our GPS ground speed -- 88
knots!
> Atlas usually trues out around 140 knots, so we were in for a looong day
if
> this kind of head-wind persisted. Luckily, the air was smooth at 8,500
> feet, so we just loosened up the seat belts, turned on the autopilot, and
> popped in another CD -- there was not much else we could do.
>
> At last, Alliance, NE -- our first stop -- crept into view, with our
ground
> speed hovering around a disastrous 100 knots. Instead of taking 3.5
hours,
> this first leg had taken close to five -- and we weren't even a third of
the
> way to Reno!
>
> Alliance was chosen because (a) Jim Weir said they carried mogas, and
> because (b) according to AOPA, they had a restaurant on the field. Well,
> we managed to buy their last 50 gallons of mogas (which, according to the
> FBO owner, they'll never be able to sell it again, due to insurance
> restrictions), had to take the rest in avgas -- and found that the
> restaurant had closed back in 1997. (Thanks AOPA!)
>
> So, we borrowed their van and drove into Alliance for an outstanding
country
> breakfast at Ben and Mel's (or something like that) -- with great food,
ugly
> waitresses, and cheap prices. My kind of place!
>
> Refreshed, we launched again into clear blue skies with me as PIC,
wondering
> what this headwind was going to do in the mountains ahead. Of course, we
> were approaching the mountains at mid-day -- the worst possible time for
> turbulence, according to the many mountain flying sources we consulted
> before this flight. Sadly, however, we discovered that when you live in
> Iowa there simply isn't much choice but to fly across them at mid-day,
> unless you want to take two days to get to Reno.
>
> Since we didn't have that kind of luxury, we simply took our chances with
> the bumps...
>
> Our ground speed gradually picked up to a more respectable 125 knots --
but
> we continued to fall way behind schedule. As we passed Scott's Bluff the
> terrain became more and more forbidding, with less evidence of human
> habitation with every passing mile. Soon the foothills gave way to
> mountains, which, to this flat-lander, looked pretty danged big indeed!
>
> Atlas was running like a champ, as always, but we were sure wishing he was
> turbo-charged as we droned along. At 10,500 feet, we were only able to
pull
> around 19 inches of manifold pressure, which sure didn't give us much
> "ooomph" -- and the really big stuff still lay ahead. Occasionally we'd
hit
> a smoothly rising pocket of air, and I'd have to push over to maintain
> altitude. During these brief spells, our ground speed would approach a
more
> normal 135 knots -- but the inevitable sinking pocket of air would soon
> follow, necessitating a pull back to maintain altitude. During these
> spells, ground speed would decay to an abysmal 85 knots.
>
> By the end of the flight my left arm was noticeably sore from fighting
this
> up/down tendency, but that lay ahead...
>
> Luckily, despite the strong winds aloft, we didn't hit any bad mountain
> turbulence, and we were able to truly appreciate the majesty and glory of
> the mountains from our tall -- if slow -- perch. Moments of spiritual
> contemplation were broken only by the discomfiting knowledge that any
engine
> failure would likely be unsurvivable, as we crossed ridge after ridge of
> ever-higher mountains. For the first time in my flying life, I longed for
a
> twin engined plane...
>
> Flying VOR to VOR (only because they are placed in the lowest points in
the
> valley), our moving map GPS at last displayed Ogden, Utah creeping into
> range. The approach into Ogden was truly spectacular, as we crossed
through
> a high pass at 10,500 feet, and then rapidly descended to land at the
Ogden
> airport down at 4500 feet or so. Skimming through the pass, with pine
> trees and rocks seemingly just a few feet away, only to have the whole
world
> drop out from beneath you to reveal the great Salt Lake basin beyond, is a
> truly wondrous experience!
>
> With a quick gas up in Ogden (I knew we were in trouble when the line guys
> were wearing ties -- the gas was $3.07 a gallon, and we needed over 60
> gallons again), we were on our way to Reno, with no further stops planned.
> After almost 8 hours in the air, and constant exposure to high altitude,
we
> were starting to feel pretty tired, but knowing the goal was in reach kept
> us enthused. However, I was glad to let "Otto" fly the plane as we simply
> monitored our progress on the maps, making minor course corrections and
> watching as Reno inched ever closer.
>
> Our plan was to land at Grass Valley, CA, in order to camp in Jim Weir's
> yard for the night, followed by a return to Reno for a few days of hotels.
> However, as we pressed westward, our ground speed never consistently
> exceeded 130 knots, and our "easy" flight to Jim's was looking less and
less
> likely. A quick check with a bored military controller just west of Salt
> Lake City confirmed that the sun would set in Reno just past 7 PM, and --
> despite picking up two hours as we crossed from Central to Mountain to
> Pacific daylight times -- it was looking like we might have to stop
> somewhere short of Jim's for the night.
>
> In fact, as we crossed Winnemucca, Nevada, our ETA to Reno was clicking
down
> precisely to sunset, so we knew that we weren't going to be seeing Jim or
> Gail that night. It's one thing for a couple of dumb flat-landers to
tempt
> the Rockies in a single engine plane in the daytime -- it's another thing
> entirely to try crossing them in the dark!
>
> We at last touched down at Reno International just after sunset, an
> incredible 12+ hours of flight-time after leaving Iowa City. Our
estimated
> flight time had expanded exponentially, but we were, at last, safe on the
> ground.
>
> We chose to park at Sierra, assuming that we'd only be there one night.
> Even though it was only Wednesday, there were aircraft parked EVERYWHERE.
> Fortunately, we got one of their last three single-engine aircraft parking
> spots, for which they "only" charged us $25 per night -- and gas was a
> painful $3.37 per gallon! Since we once again needed over 65 gallons,
Reno
> proved to be the most expensive single fuel stop we'd ever experienced!
>
> The folks there were very helpful, however, and gave us a ride to the
> commercial side of the airport, where we could catch our hotel's airport
> shuttle bus. Within an hour I was sitting in a casino restaurant, dizzy
> with fatigue after 12+ hours in the plane -- but glad (and somewhat
amazed)
> to at last be in Reno!
>
> The Hotel
> ***************************
> The next morning we "slept in" till 7 AM local time -- 9 AM our time --
and
> started preparing for a day at the races. After pondering our options, we
> soon realized that -- given the parking situation -- if we were to fly up
to
> Jim and Gail's for the day, we would not be able to return to Reno. This
> would leave us with the sorry option of driving back and forth each day,
> which was not something we wanted to deal with all weekend -- we were
there
> to see RACING!
>
> So, a quick call to Gail allowed us to sadly beg off of our commitment to
> use their shower and eat their food (I suspect they weren't quite as
> disappointed as we were!), and we opted to "hotel it" for the remainder of
> our stay.
>
> The Silver Legacy hotel turned out to be the perfect solution to seeing
the
> Reno Air Races. Located in downtown Reno, it joins seamlessly with the
> Circus Circus and Eldorado casinos, providing easy access to their many
> restaurants and bars. Mary and I both hate to lose money, so we never
> really checked out the gambling options -- but, for those who care about
> such things, they were obvious and plentiful.
>
> Best of all, the hotels were running a continuous shuttle bus out to the
> race site, Stead Airport. The bus was a bit pricey, at $16 apiece round
> trip -- but eliminating the "hassle factor" made it well worth it. (And
> auto parking was 8 bucks, which made the bus look even better.)
>
> If we are ever lucky enough to return to Reno, we will go back to the
Silver
> Legacy.
>
> The Races
> ***************************
> Upon arrival we found the ticket booths to be well-staffed, and we were
soon
> inside the grounds, marveling at the huge, purpose-built grandstands that
> edged the airport ramp. Having spent many years at airports, ones eyes
have
> grown accustomed to seeing certain things: A beacon. Gas pumps. An FBO.
> A wind tee. Mary and I both agreed that grandstands and bleachers looked
> decidedly out of place!
>
> But what a view from up there! I didn't realize that you could actually
see
> the entire race course from in the stands, but due to the gradually rising
> terrain and the height of the stands, you can easily follow the entire
race.
> The race course is in a bowl, mostly ringed by mountains, which provide a
> marvelous backdrop to the world's fastest motor sport.
>
> And, wow, are they fast! When we arrived they were doing a T-6 race,
which
> looked pretty fast to my newbie eyes. In this class, because the aircraft
> are so similar, the race is decided mostly by skill, rather than by brute
> horsepower. (An aside: In years past, the T-6s were always the "middle
> fast" race, with the biplanes occupying the "slowest of the bunch"
category.
> This year, some highly modified biplanes actually exceeded the T-6 race
> speeds, relegating the T-6 drivers to the "slowest" category for the first
> time. I imagine this didn't sit well with those guys!) The winner
looked
> like he was flying on rails, and his consistency was obviously the key to
> success.
>
> They then ran a Sport Class race, which is run on a smaller course -- and
> those guys were just screaming around the track at over 340 mph! Darryl
> Greenamyer has a tricked out Lancair that goes incredibly fast, and the
> Thunder Mustang (which would have beaten the Lancair, if it could have
held
> together long enough) just sounded other-worldly!
>
> After scouting out the vendors (this was, after all, a shopping trip for
our
> new Reno Air Racing Suite), we soon settled into the race routine. A
race
> would take place (qualifying heats, early on), followed by an airshow
> performance, followed by a military flight demonstration -- and then
another
> race would start. This pattern continued throughout the day, and meant
that
> there was never a dull moment!
>
> Red Bull Air Race
> ***************************
> The Red Bull Air Race was a new addition this year, and it proved to be
> incredibly popular. A timed event, each aerobatic pilot had to fly the
> same closed course, marked by giant, inflatable pylons spaced directly in
> front of the grandstands. With specific assigned maneuvers, each pilot
> threw his plane around the course with wild abandon, to the delight and
> amazement of a very jaded and knowledgeable crowd.
>
> The wind was really whipping, which made the course doubly exciting as the
> inflatable pylons waved ominously back and forth, seemingly trying to
knock
> down the planes. They set up three gigantic "jumbotron" TVs out in front
of
> the crowd, and, with live cameras transmitting from inside the cockpits,
you
> could clearly see those giant pylons waving to and fro as each competitor
> knifed between them!
>
> Coolest of all: Each pilot had to do a touch-and-go landing, on a 4 foot
> patch of yellow chalk right in front of the stands -- coming out of a
loop!
> If they missed, it was a huge penalty.
>
> Exciting doesn't describe it!
>
> The Jet Class
> ***************************
> This year the jets -- all Czech L-39s -- had a real race and class of
their
> own. (Apparently they've only flown exhibition races till now.) These
> races are all decided by piloting skill, since the aircraft themselves are
> virtually identical, and they really whip around that course. They lack
> the thunder and drama of the unlimiteds, but they are still very, very
cool.
> (Especially since those guys are flying around in pressurized, air
> conditioned comfort, unlike the rest of the field!)
>
> The Unlimiteds
> ***************************
> Of course, the Unlimiteds are what everyone goes to Reno to see.
Originally
> World War II fighter planes, the top contenders have all long-since been
> modified into something far afield from their warbird days. Rare Bear,
for
> example -- originally a Grumman Bearcat -- has been so highly modified
that
> it's hard to see any wartime vestiges at all.
>
> Engines are souped up way beyond anything their original designers could
> have imagined, pulling twice as much manifold pressure and putting out
> double the horsepower. The sound emanating from these engines is
absolutely
> indescribable, and brought chills up my spine with every lap. To see
Dago
> Red (what used to be a P-51 Mustang) screaming around the pylons in a
> continual, knife-edge left turn, just feet from the ground, was truly an
> amazing sight, and one I'll never forget.
>
> The fact that there is almost literally a "Mayday!" declared on every race
> indicates how hard these guys are pushing these engines. No one came to
> any distress, but the constant danger and risk was thick in the air
whenever
> those beasts were airborne.
>
> The Pits
> ***************************
> Everyone told us that this was THE place to be -- and they couldn't have
> been more right on. The pits are an amazing place to spend the day, with
> row after row of incredibly beautiful and complex race planes lined up
like
> soldiers. Swarming on each plane was a small army of mechanics and
support
> crew, tweaking, repairing, polishing, and adjusting those high-strung
> thoroughbreds to race-day perfection.
>
> Depending on the racer's reputation and stature, you might have five guys
> wrenching away in relative anonymity -- or, in the case of the bigger
names,
> you might have a dozen or more crew members, all wearing uniform shirts,
> with dedicated vendors nearby selling everything from "Rare Bear" posters
to
> "Strega" polo shirts.
>
> The most amazing part, to me, was how approachable everyone was. If
you've
> ever attended a Formula One race, you know that the pits are accessible,
but
> only with your eyes. Most of the race teams are all wearing identical
jump
> suits, and treat visitors at best as if they were invisible.
>
> In Reno, everyone is utterly accessible, even the biggest names. Ask a
> mechanic what he's working on, and he'll actually tell you! Strike up a
> conversation with any random guy, and you might discover that he's the
race
> pilot. Everyone is doing what they love most, and they all know how
> incredibly special and lucky they are to be there -- so there are no prima
> donnas or elitists in the group.
>
> Or, at least, we never met any of them.
>
> A great example: Rare Bear was "making metal" after flying on Wednesday,
> and we watched as those guys spent all day (and night!) tracking the
source
> down to a turbo-supercharger -- which they then completely replaced. We
> were able to watch as they did instant oil analysis (they had a lab in
their
> support semi truck!), and determined that they had, indeed found the
> problem, clearing the big plane for racing.
>
> I was able to ask one of their team what was going on, and he actually
took
> the time to explain what they were doing -- to me, a mere spectator.
> Despite the money involved (and there is, indeed, a lot of that) the
feeling
> of the place was very egalitarian.
>
> Needless to say, we spent most of our time in the pits.
>
> The Organizers
> ***************************
> Our goal for this trip was to assemble enough artwork and memorabilia to
> decorate a 590 square foot hot tub suite, which would be called the "Reno
> Air Racing Suite." To this end, we scoured the vendors, and purchased
> every poster, sticker and patch we could lay our hands on.
>
> At the end of the first day, however, we were noticeably short on stuff,
> much to our dismay. The vendors were mostly selling shirts and hats --
not
> artwork -- and a lot of other "generic" stuff that simply didn't have the
> ring of "Reno"authenticity that we required. As we were looking around
for
> options, Mary spotted a guy sitting in a golf cart, feet up, doing nothing
> at all.
>
> Reasoning that (a) a guy in a golf cart was on-staff, and (b) a guy doing
> nothing was probably a big wheel, she struck up a conversation, and
> explained our mission to him.
>
> Pay dirt!
>
> His eyes instantly grew animated, and he was obviously excited to hear
about
> what we were doing at our little hotel. He gave us the location of the
> headquarters building, and the name of the head cheese to contact about
> obtaining some REAL memorabilia, and wanted to hear all about each suite.
> Totally at random we had stumbled across a guy who clearly knew all the
> right people, and we walked away marveling at our luck.
>
> Later in the day we headed over to the building -- which turned out to be
a
> warehouse chock-full of vendor supplies -- and asked around for Mike
> Cummings. As luck would have it, the very first guy we asked turned out
to
> be Mike, and we once again explained our mission, and our desire to create
a
> unique air racing theme suite.
>
> As our story unfolded (it takes a while to explain our lame-brained notion
> of a hotel!), Mike was transformed from mildly interested to visibly
> enthused. A mechanic in real life (and a RARA employee for two weeks each
> year), Mike seemed to be taken with the concept of a Reno Suite in Iowa
(go
> figure!), and -- much to our amazement -- he literally dropped EVERYTHING
he
> was doing to drive us over to another warehouse, at the far end of the
> field, where all the old posters and patches from previous years were
> stored!
>
> Now, you must remember that Mike was the guy in charge of keeping all the
> vendors stocked. As such, his walkie talkie and cell phone were
constantly
> going off, and a steady stream of people were running in and out, shouting
> for more "P-38 shirts, extra large!" on their way through the door. In
the
> middle of ALL this pandemonium and frenzy, Mike simply listened to our
> story, was instantly caught up in it -- and drove us to the far end of the
> airport in search of REAL memorabilia.
>
> I was (and still am) dumbfounded at his friendliness and above-and-beyond
> hospitality. We spent the next 30 minutes digging through that
warehouse,
> picking out the best autographed posters and patches from prior years,
> surrounded by old and new (yet to be awarded!) race trophies. He even
> supplied a large mailing tube, just so we wouldn't wreck our
treasure-trove
> of posters on the flight home...
>
> He then drove us back to the grounds, all the while asking questions about
> the hotel and our flight to Reno. Upon our return he fetched his boss, a
> main race organizer (whose name I sadly can't recall), who also seemed
> thrilled about what we were doing.
>
> In the end, when I asked Mike what we owed him, he replied "nothing" --
> which I simply couldn't believe. He had given us several hundred dollars
> of impossible to find memorabilia (and that was at face value!), taken 30
> minutes out of what was probably the busiest day of his life -- and he
would
> take nothing in exchange. I was and remain humbled to know that there are
> people in this world like him, and we will always remember Reno not for
the
> racing, but for the incredible hospitality shown to us by the organizers.
>
> The Weather
> ***************************
> The climate in Reno is high desert, and even though it wasn't particularly
> hot (locals were wearing long pants), we were amazed to find ourselves
> thirsty ALL the time. I'll bet we consumed a gallon of water apiece each
> day, simply because the dryness and wind conspired to desiccate us.
>
> The wind on Friday was incredible. All week we had been watching the prog
> charts as a major winter storm loomed off-shore, and ahead of this system
> the wind just picked up and never stopped. In Iowa, we might see high
> winds associated with a storm system, but rarely in perfect VFR
conditions,
> and rarely for a long period of time. At Stead, the wind literally blew
at
> 25 knots all day long, with little or no variance or let up. Despite
this,
> the races went off without delay -- no mean feat in some of those smaller
> biplanes!
>
> This wind -- along with abundant sunshine, the high altitude, and low
> humidity -- combined to make for a very tiring day. By the end of the
day
> we were loaded with artwork, tired beyond description -- and literally
> getting sand-blasted as we waited for our shuttle bus back to the hotel.
>
> Unfortunately, due to bad traffic and unexpectedly large pre-weekend
crowds,
> they ran way short of buses, and our wait stretched to over 90 minutes.
> Tempers flared and patience grew thin as the sun set and temperatures
> dropped, but eventually we were back at the hotel bar enjoying a cold one,
> marveling at how we keep experiencing such incredibly good luck with our
> crazy hotel endeavor.
>
> Our good cheer didn't last long, however, as we had been keeping a wary
eye
> on the Weather Channel. After months of drought, it was obvious that a
> major weather change was imminent on the west coast, as a tropical storm
> coming up the Baja Peninsula was threatening to collide with a cold front
> off the Pacific. The talking heads were babbling incessantly about
"early
> snow at higher elevations," and the prog charts showed no improvement for
at
> least five days after the front passed.
>
> The deciding factor, however, was the fact that our daughter (back home
with
> friends) was going to turn eleven on Tuesday. Missing her birthday was
NOT
> an option, so we reluctantly began making plans for an early departure on
> Saturday, rather than waiting till after the final races on Sunday or
> Monday....
>
> The Flight Home
> ***************************
> Flight Service indicated that the front wouldn't hit the area until
Saturday
> afternoon, so our Saturday morning departure would be doable. When we
> awakened Saturday morning, however, it was evident that things were
> developing more quickly than predicted. Moisture from that tropical storm
> was streaming up ahead of the front, causing clouds and some rain showers
in
> the mountains -- our worst case scenario!
>
> Equally bad, the wind was howling at 15 gusting to 30 -- at sunrise. This
> could only mean bad things in the mountains to come.
>
> A helpful briefer went through the litany of conditions, and sadly stated
> that Battle Mountain (just the other side of the first set of big
mountains
> east of Reno) was "mountain tops obscured in mist" -- and pronounced "VFR
> not recommended."
>
> He then went on to state that all other reporting stations were good VFR,
an
> d mentioned that conditions at Battle Mountain were probably a morning
thing
> that would abate by the time we got there. Apparently this is a not
> uncommon condition in the mountains, in the morning, and I was glad to be
> talking to an experienced, realistic briefer, rather than the
all-too-common
> "Chicken Little the sky is falling!" type.
>
> Still, conditions were dicey enough to give me serious pause. We were at
> the airport, ready to go -- but should we? We had given up our precious
> hotel reservations on a sold-out weekend, so we had no where to stay if we
> aborted. Weather conditions were predicted to deteriorate and STAY bad
for
> the next five days, so getting out soonest seemed like our best choice.
My
> daughter's birthday loomed large at the end of our rainbow.
>
> I felt myself being cornered into making a "go/no-go" decision based on
> factors other than the current conditions, and I was determined NOT to let
> those factors influence my decision.
>
> But, of course, they did. Determining that we were safe to depart, and
that
> clear skies beckoned just beyond Battle Mountain, we launched with some
> misgivings into the unknown.
>
> Climbing out of the Reno valley, we were buffeted around pretty good by
wind
> shear and gusts. I was gratified to see, however, that the scattered
clouds
> were several thousand feet above the surrounding mountains, and obviously
> remained that way as far as the eye could see to the east. At 11,500
feet,
> we turned east toward home.
>
> Mary has never liked turbulence, ever since a very bad flight to Oelwein,
IA
> one winter day several years back, and I could see that she was absolutely
> white-knuckled in the right seat. Although the bumps were continuous, I
> never thought they approached severe (or even the level we experienced
that
> fateful day on our way to Oelwein) -- but you could never relax, even for
a
> minute. All the horror stories about mountain turbulence and planes being
> thrown into unusual attitudes had us both completely on edge, and I found
> myself actually making the situation worse by over-controlling the plane
> when turbulence would toss a wing up or down.
>
> It took a conscious effort to release my claw grip from the yoke, and a
few
> deep breaths to get myself back to flying the plane with two fingers,
rather
> than both hands. This, of course, lessened the "induced turbulence"
> dramatically, as it always does, and I silently cursed myself for being so
> stupid...
>
> Glancing at my GPS, I was heartened to see 165 knots ground speed, meaning
> that we would at least get through the mountains quickly. With Mary
tuning
> in AWOS's ahead, however, it was obvious that Battle Mountain (BAM) was
> going to be the gauntlet we needed to cross, as they were reporting
lowered
> ceilings and virga in all quadrants. With the temperature aloft hovering
> around 20 degrees, virga would NOT be a good thing.
>
> As we droned along, a Skylane that had launched just behind us decided to
go
> IFR, and climbed to 12,000 feet. I thought this was odd, as climbing to
> 12,000 would put him in the scattered layer (also at the known icing
level),
> when we were in good VFR down at 11,500. In an effort to help, I made a
> PIREP to ATC, stating that we were in "good VFR at 11,500 feet" and gave
our
> position for the benefit of the 182 pilot. Still, even though I
questioned
> his judgment, I silently wished that I had his IFR option, and droned
> onward.
>
> As we approached BAM, we found ourselves being forced lower by a sloping
> cloud deck that had thickened from scattered to broken. We still had
> thousands of feet beneath us, and visibility was good, but I decided to
use
> my moving map to follow I-80 anyway, reasoning that I could always play
the
> "I follow roads" card if need be. We cheated our altitude down to 11,100
> feet in order to remain legally clear of clouds, and proceeded onward,
> noting the location of every air strip along the way.
>
> As we approached BAM, it was easy to see what was happening. The skies
were
> bright and clear in the distance, beyond a lowering veil of virga. This
> was clearly the leading edge of the moisture, and it was precipitating out
> as it hit the cold, dry air. Not quite a rain shower yet, it was still a
> good, five-mile wide chunk of moisture that might result in icing. I
aimed
> for the brightest spot.
>
> As we passed beneath the virga, I was heartened to penetrate this last
line
> without the slightest icing. A bit of moisture on the windshield was the
> only indication of virga, and we soon broke out into clear air, as far as
we
> could see! Yahoo!
>
> Suddenly the frequency came alive, as the 182 pilot behind us announced
that
> he had lost his NAV radios, and would need vectors out of the clouds.
> Worse, he was picking up icing, and needed to get lower immediately.
>
> It was apparent (well, I'm guessing here) that he did not have a moving
map
> GPS on board, but was relying instead on VORs and perhaps DME. Given his
> situation, a moving map display would have instantly shown him where
I-80's
> valley was, and where he could have flown to remain clear of clouds and
> icing. The tension in his voice was palpable as ATC vectored him safely
to
> a position directly behind us, and he was able to lower back into VFR
> conditions.
>
> Voice quavering, he announced that he'd "had enough" and was landing at
> Battle Mountain. A few minutes later, however, he called back, obviously
> relieved, and said that they had "had a change of heart" and were pressing
> on to their ultimate destination somewhere in Utah. Mary and I were both
> happy to hear that all had ended well for him, but I still can't
understand
> why he had chosen to climb up into the clouds in those temperatures, in a
> Skylane, when we were in good VFR conditions...
>
> Although our weather worries were over, our turbulence problems were not.
> Beneath the cloud layers the turbulence was actually suppressed somewhat,
> but we were now in the clear air, where the turbulence could really get
> wound up. In retrospect we never hit anything beyond moderate
> turbulence, but there was simply no way to know what was to come.
> Occasionally we would hit an area that felt exactly like driving your car
> off of a curb at 30 mph, which would cause us to tense up in preparation
for
> the worst -- which never came. After 90 minutes of this, however, I
> noticed that my shoulders and neck were aching from being knotted into a
> constant tension, trying to brace myself for whatever lay ahead.
>
> Was it dangerous? Nope. Was it uncomfortable? For sure -- and I
wouldn't
> want to do it again.
>
> Luckily our tail wind (albeit not nearly as strong as our headwind had
been
> three days earlier, naturally) held true, and we were whistling along at
165
> knots, leaned way back to 11 gallons per hour. As a result, we were able
> to entirely skip our first (of two) fuel stop, and landed instead at
Scott's
> Bluff, NE. Once again we were fighting the clock, as we were now LOSING
> two hours of precious daylight on our flight home. Forced to forego a real
> meal, we powered down some peanut butter crackers and a Snickers bar,
tanked
> up another 65 gallons (at over $3 per gallon), and arched back up into the
> sky.
>
> Scott's Bluff marks the end of the real mountains, and luckily the
> turbulence lessened dramatically from that point on. With Mary acting as
> PIC, we climbed back up to 11.5K in order to catch that big tailwind, and
> rode it all the way to Iowa, touching down about 20 minutes after sunset.
>
> Pushing the plane back into the hangar, a full 2-days before anyone
expected
> us back, we pondered where to sleep. We knew that our hotel, right next
> door, was 100% booked for the night -- and we sure didn't want to go home
> yet -- but we were too wiped out to drive anywhere.
>
> So, we pulled out our unused camping gear, inflated our queen-sized air
> bed -- and enjoyed our best night's sleep of the trip, right there next to
> the plane...
>
> What a trip! I don't think we'll ever try it again, but it was worth
> doing once. And, boy, are we going to have the greatest "Reno Suite"
> anyone has ever seen!
>
> ;-)
> --
> Jay Honeck
> Iowa City, IA
> Pathfinder N56993
> www.AlexisParkInn.com
> "Your Aviation Destination"
>
>
>

[Jay Honeck]

> Just courious, and some people may consider this too much information,
> but... what do you do for relief on those long legs?

Our longest leg was 5.4 hours -- almost two hours longer than our original
flight plan -- so this could truly have been a serious problem. Luckily, it
wasn't, thanks to long experience with cross-country flying.

Our secret? We carefully avoided drinking beverages before launching.
This, for a coffee addict like me, was one of the most difficult parts of
the trip! Flying at sunrise without my usual caffeine jolt was a true
hardship -- but it's one that's well worth enduring.

Actually, the reverse was true -- we became quite thirsty aloft. To help
with this, we kept a small water bottle on board, just to wet our lips and
cut the thirst to a manageable level.

Between limiting our fluid intake, and the extreme dryness at 11,000 feet,
we had amazingly little trouble "holding it" for that long. (We had relief
bags on board, just in case...)
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Mike Adams]

"Jay Honeck" > wrote:

> Our secret? We carefully avoided drinking beverages before launching.
> This, for a coffee addict like me, was one of the most difficult parts of
> the trip! Flying at sunrise without my usual caffeine jolt was a true
> hardship -- but it's one that's well worth enduring.
>

I think we're getting to the real reason you were so tired after all day at
11,000 ft. And you thought it was the altitude. :-)

Great story, Jay. Thanks for sharing.

Mike

[Jay Honeck]

> I think we're getting to the real reason you were so tired after all day
at
> 11,000 ft. And you thought it was the altitude. :-)
>
> Great story, Jay. Thanks for sharing.

Man, I was STILL tired this morning, even with coffee. That was an intense
four days, for sure. Between the flying and the non-stop racing action, we
were pretty much wired for 96 straight hours.

I need to get back to work tomorrow, so I can get some rest! :-)

And then, the coup de grace: Mary went to the frame shop today, to get all
of those beautiful posters framed and matted. Augh!

And I thought Avgas was expensive! Even with our usual "bulk discount" the
price was breath-taking...

:-(
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[aluckyguess]

Great story.
I emailed it to a few friends and my wife. I want her to get her license.
"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message
news:kRE3d.82581$D%.55927@attbi_s51...
> 2600 miles -- in two days. Whew!
>
> We're back from the Reno Air Races (two days early, sadly, to get out
> ahead
> of a winter storm system that rolled into the Rockies on Friday
> afternoon),
> and I'm here to tell you: Reno ROCKS!
>
> I've never seen anything quite like it. In Reno, aircraft engines that
> were
> designed to put out "only" 1500 horsepower are being pushed to over 3000
> horsepower, and are powering aircraft around an 8 mile oval course at over
> 500 mph, just a few feet off the ground, and just a few feet apart. To
> say
> it's exciting is a major understatement: It quite literally makes NASCAR
> look like a walk in the park.
>
> But I'm ahead of myself...
>
> The Flight Out
> ***************************
> Our flight started inauspiciously enough, with a line of showers and
> thunderstorms working it's way into Iowa as we tried to depart at sunrise.
> After waiting a bit to see how things would develop, it soon became
> apparent
> that we either launched now, or we'd be stuck waiting till the front blew
> through later that night. Since weak Midwestern summertime fronts are
> usually spotty and easily circumnavigated, we launched, with the knowledge
> that we might end up spending the night somewhere west of Des Moines.
>
> With Mary acting as PIC, we cautiously worked our way west, listening
> ahead
> to AWOSs, and aiming for the lighter areas of cloud cover. The ceiling
> never
> dropped below 3,000 feet, and visibility was good as we picked our way
> through light rain showers to the other side of the state. After passing
> through one last line just east of Omaha, we broke out into glorious
> sunshine and unlimited ceilings as far as the eye could see, as we winged
> our way across Nebraska. Things were looking up! (And we never saw
> another cloud, all the way to the west coast!)
>
> (An aside: For the first time, ever, we were able to see a full, 100%
> circular rainbow from the air. To see a round, 360 degree rainbow was
> worth the price of admission right then and there! What percentage of
> humans has ever seen one? It can't be very high...)
>
> Relaxing, I did a double-take as I checked our GPS ground speed -- 88
> knots!
> Atlas usually trues out around 140 knots, so we were in for a looong day
> if
> this kind of head-wind persisted. Luckily, the air was smooth at 8,500
> feet, so we just loosened up the seat belts, turned on the autopilot, and
> popped in another CD -- there was not much else we could do.
>
> At last, Alliance, NE -- our first stop -- crept into view, with our
> ground
> speed hovering around a disastrous 100 knots. Instead of taking 3.5
> hours,
> this first leg had taken close to five -- and we weren't even a third of
> the
> way to Reno!
>
> Alliance was chosen because (a) Jim Weir said they carried mogas, and
> because (b) according to AOPA, they had a restaurant on the field. Well,
> we managed to buy their last 50 gallons of mogas (which, according to the
> FBO owner, they'll never be able to sell it again, due to insurance
> restrictions), had to take the rest in avgas -- and found that the
> restaurant had closed back in 1997. (Thanks AOPA!)
>
> So, we borrowed their van and drove into Alliance for an outstanding
> country
> breakfast at Ben and Mel's (or something like that) -- with great food,
> ugly
> waitresses, and cheap prices. My kind of place!
>
> Refreshed, we launched again into clear blue skies with me as PIC,
> wondering
> what this headwind was going to do in the mountains ahead. Of course, we
> were approaching the mountains at mid-day -- the worst possible time for
> turbulence, according to the many mountain flying sources we consulted
> before this flight. Sadly, however, we discovered that when you live in
> Iowa there simply isn't much choice but to fly across them at mid-day,
> unless you want to take two days to get to Reno.
>
> Since we didn't have that kind of luxury, we simply took our chances with
> the bumps...
>
> Our ground speed gradually picked up to a more respectable 125 knots --
> but
> we continued to fall way behind schedule. As we passed Scott's Bluff the
> terrain became more and more forbidding, with less evidence of human
> habitation with every passing mile. Soon the foothills gave way to
> mountains, which, to this flat-lander, looked pretty danged big indeed!
>
> Atlas was running like a champ, as always, but we were sure wishing he was
> turbo-charged as we droned along. At 10,500 feet, we were only able to
> pull
> around 19 inches of manifold pressure, which sure didn't give us much
> "ooomph" -- and the really big stuff still lay ahead. Occasionally we'd
> hit
> a smoothly rising pocket of air, and I'd have to push over to maintain
> altitude. During these brief spells, our ground speed would approach a
> more
> normal 135 knots -- but the inevitable sinking pocket of air would soon
> follow, necessitating a pull back to maintain altitude. During these
> spells, ground speed would decay to an abysmal 85 knots.
>
> By the end of the flight my left arm was noticeably sore from fighting
> this
> up/down tendency, but that lay ahead...
>
> Luckily, despite the strong winds aloft, we didn't hit any bad mountain
> turbulence, and we were able to truly appreciate the majesty and glory of
> the mountains from our tall -- if slow -- perch. Moments of spiritual
> contemplation were broken only by the discomfiting knowledge that any
> engine
> failure would likely be unsurvivable, as we crossed ridge after ridge of
> ever-higher mountains. For the first time in my flying life, I longed for
> a
> twin engined plane...
>
> Flying VOR to VOR (only because they are placed in the lowest points in
> the
> valley), our moving map GPS at last displayed Ogden, Utah creeping into
> range. The approach into Ogden was truly spectacular, as we crossed
> through
> a high pass at 10,500 feet, and then rapidly descended to land at the
> Ogden
> airport down at 4500 feet or so. Skimming through the pass, with pine
> trees and rocks seemingly just a few feet away, only to have the whole
> world
> drop out from beneath you to reveal the great Salt Lake basin beyond, is a
> truly wondrous experience!
>
> With a quick gas up in Ogden (I knew we were in trouble when the line guys
> were wearing ties -- the gas was $3.07 a gallon, and we needed over 60
> gallons again), we were on our way to Reno, with no further stops planned.
> After almost 8 hours in the air, and constant exposure to high altitude,
> we
> were starting to feel pretty tired, but knowing the goal was in reach kept
> us enthused. However, I was glad to let "Otto" fly the plane as we simply
> monitored our progress on the maps, making minor course corrections and
> watching as Reno inched ever closer.
>
> Our plan was to land at Grass Valley, CA, in order to camp in Jim Weir's
> yard for the night, followed by a return to Reno for a few days of hotels.
> However, as we pressed westward, our ground speed never consistently
> exceeded 130 knots, and our "easy" flight to Jim's was looking less and
> less
> likely. A quick check with a bored military controller just west of Salt
> Lake City confirmed that the sun would set in Reno just past 7 PM, and --
> despite picking up two hours as we crossed from Central to Mountain to
> Pacific daylight times -- it was looking like we might have to stop
> somewhere short of Jim's for the night.
>
> In fact, as we crossed Winnemucca, Nevada, our ETA to Reno was clicking
> down
> precisely to sunset, so we knew that we weren't going to be seeing Jim or
> Gail that night. It's one thing for a couple of dumb flat-landers to
> tempt
> the Rockies in a single engine plane in the daytime -- it's another thing
> entirely to try crossing them in the dark!
>
> We at last touched down at Reno International just after sunset, an
> incredible 12+ hours of flight-time after leaving Iowa City. Our
> estimated
> flight time had expanded exponentially, but we were, at last, safe on the
> ground.
>
> We chose to park at Sierra, assuming that we'd only be there one night.
> Even though it was only Wednesday, there were aircraft parked EVERYWHERE.
> Fortunately, we got one of their last three single-engine aircraft parking
> spots, for which they "only" charged us $25 per night -- and gas was a
> painful $3.37 per gallon! Since we once again needed over 65 gallons,
> Reno
> proved to be the most expensive single fuel stop we'd ever experienced!
>
> The folks there were very helpful, however, and gave us a ride to the
> commercial side of the airport, where we could catch our hotel's airport
> shuttle bus. Within an hour I was sitting in a casino restaurant, dizzy
> with fatigue after 12+ hours in the plane -- but glad (and somewhat
> amazed)
> to at last be in Reno!
>
> The Hotel
> ***************************
> The next morning we "slept in" till 7 AM local time -- 9 AM our time --
> and
> started preparing for a day at the races. After pondering our options, we
> soon realized that -- given the parking situation -- if we were to fly up
> to
> Jim and Gail's for the day, we would not be able to return to Reno. This
> would leave us with the sorry option of driving back and forth each day,
> which was not something we wanted to deal with all weekend -- we were
> there
> to see RACING!
>
> So, a quick call to Gail allowed us to sadly beg off of our commitment to
> use their shower and eat their food (I suspect they weren't quite as
> disappointed as we were!), and we opted to "hotel it" for the remainder of
> our stay.
>
> The Silver Legacy hotel turned out to be the perfect solution to seeing
> the
> Reno Air Races. Located in downtown Reno, it joins seamlessly with the
> Circus Circus and Eldorado casinos, providing easy access to their many
> restaurants and bars. Mary and I both hate to lose money, so we never
> really checked out the gambling options -- but, for those who care about
> such things, they were obvious and plentiful.
>
> Best of all, the hotels were running a continuous shuttle bus out to the
> race site, Stead Airport. The bus was a bit pricey, at $16 apiece round
> trip -- but eliminating the "hassle factor" made it well worth it. (And
> auto parking was 8 bucks, which made the bus look even better.)
>
> If we are ever lucky enough to return to Reno, we will go back to the
> Silver
> Legacy.
>
> The Races
> ***************************
> Upon arrival we found the ticket booths to be well-staffed, and we were
> soon
> inside the grounds, marveling at the huge, purpose-built grandstands that
> edged the airport ramp. Having spent many years at airports, ones eyes
> have
> grown accustomed to seeing certain things: A beacon. Gas pumps. An FBO.
> A wind tee. Mary and I both agreed that grandstands and bleachers looked
> decidedly out of place!
>
> But what a view from up there! I didn't realize that you could actually
> see
> the entire race course from in the stands, but due to the gradually rising
> terrain and the height of the stands, you can easily follow the entire
> race.
> The race course is in a bowl, mostly ringed by mountains, which provide a
> marvelous backdrop to the world's fastest motor sport.
>
> And, wow, are they fast! When we arrived they were doing a T-6 race,
> which
> looked pretty fast to my newbie eyes. In this class, because the aircraft
> are so similar, the race is decided mostly by skill, rather than by brute
> horsepower. (An aside: In years past, the T-6s were always the "middle
> fast" race, with the biplanes occupying the "slowest of the bunch"
> category.
> This year, some highly modified biplanes actually exceeded the T-6 race
> speeds, relegating the T-6 drivers to the "slowest" category for the first
> time. I imagine this didn't sit well with those guys!) The winner
> looked
> like he was flying on rails, and his consistency was obviously the key to
> success.
>
> They then ran a Sport Class race, which is run on a smaller course -- and
> those guys were just screaming around the track at over 340 mph! Darryl
> Greenamyer has a tricked out Lancair that goes incredibly fast, and the
> Thunder Mustang (which would have beaten the Lancair, if it could have
> held
> together long enough) just sounded other-worldly!
>
> After scouting out the vendors (this was, after all, a shopping trip for
> our
> new Reno Air Racing Suite), we soon settled into the race routine. A
> race
> would take place (qualifying heats, early on), followed by an airshow
> performance, followed by a military flight demonstration -- and then
> another
> race would start. This pattern continued throughout the day, and meant
> that
> there was never a dull moment!
>
> Red Bull Air Race
> ***************************
> The Red Bull Air Race was a new addition this year, and it proved to be
> incredibly popular. A timed event, each aerobatic pilot had to fly the
> same closed course, marked by giant, inflatable pylons spaced directly in
> front of the grandstands. With specific assigned maneuvers, each pilot
> threw his plane around the course with wild abandon, to the delight and
> amazement of a very jaded and knowledgeable crowd.
>
> The wind was really whipping, which made the course doubly exciting as the
> inflatable pylons waved ominously back and forth, seemingly trying to
> knock
> down the planes. They set up three gigantic "jumbotron" TVs out in front
> of
> the crowd, and, with live cameras transmitting from inside the cockpits,
> you
> could clearly see those giant pylons waving to and fro as each competitor
> knifed between them!
>
> Coolest of all: Each pilot had to do a touch-and-go landing, on a 4 foot
> patch of yellow chalk right in front of the stands -- coming out of a
> loop!
> If they missed, it was a huge penalty.
>
> Exciting doesn't describe it!
>
> The Jet Class
> ***************************
> This year the jets -- all Czech L-39s -- had a real race and class of
> their
> own. (Apparently they've only flown exhibition races till now.) These
> races are all decided by piloting skill, since the aircraft themselves are
> virtually identical, and they really whip around that course. They lack
> the thunder and drama of the unlimiteds, but they are still very, very
> cool.
> (Especially since those guys are flying around in pressurized, air
> conditioned comfort, unlike the rest of the field!)
>
> The Unlimiteds
> ***************************
> Of course, the Unlimiteds are what everyone goes to Reno to see.
> Originally
> World War II fighter planes, the top contenders have all long-since been
> modified into something far afield from their warbird days. Rare Bear,
> for
> example -- originally a Grumman Bearcat -- has been so highly modified
> that
> it's hard to see any wartime vestiges at all.
>
> Engines are souped up way beyond anything their original designers could
> have imagined, pulling twice as much manifold pressure and putting out
> double the horsepower. The sound emanating from these engines is
> absolutely
> indescribable, and brought chills up my spine with every lap. To see
> Dago
> Red (what used to be a P-51 Mustang) screaming around the pylons in a
> continual, knife-edge left turn, just feet from the ground, was truly an
> amazing sight, and one I'll never forget.
>
> The fact that there is almost literally a "Mayday!" declared on every race
> indicates how hard these guys are pushing these engines. No one came to
> any distress, but the constant danger and risk was thick in the air
> whenever
> those beasts were airborne.
>
> The Pits
> ***************************
> Everyone told us that this was THE place to be -- and they couldn't have
> been more right on. The pits are an amazing place to spend the day, with
> row after row of incredibly beautiful and complex race planes lined up
> like
> soldiers. Swarming on each plane was a small army of mechanics and
> support
> crew, tweaking, repairing, polishing, and adjusting those high-strung
> thoroughbreds to race-day perfection.
>
> Depending on the racer's reputation and stature, you might have five guys
> wrenching away in relative anonymity -- or, in the case of the bigger
> names,
> you might have a dozen or more crew members, all wearing uniform shirts,
> with dedicated vendors nearby selling everything from "Rare Bear" posters
> to
> "Strega" polo shirts.
>
> The most amazing part, to me, was how approachable everyone was. If
> you've
> ever attended a Formula One race, you know that the pits are accessible,
> but
> only with your eyes. Most of the race teams are all wearing identical
> jump
> suits, and treat visitors at best as if they were invisible.
>
> In Reno, everyone is utterly accessible, even the biggest names. Ask a
> mechanic what he's working on, and he'll actually tell you! Strike up a
> conversation with any random guy, and you might discover that he's the
> race
> pilot. Everyone is doing what they love most, and they all know how
> incredibly special and lucky they are to be there -- so there are no prima
> donnas or elitists in the group.
>
> Or, at least, we never met any of them.
>
> A great example: Rare Bear was "making metal" after flying on Wednesday,
> and we watched as those guys spent all day (and night!) tracking the
> source
> down to a turbo-supercharger -- which they then completely replaced. We
> were able to watch as they did instant oil analysis (they had a lab in
> their
> support semi truck!), and determined that they had, indeed found the
> problem, clearing the big plane for racing.
>
> I was able to ask one of their team what was going on, and he actually
> took
> the time to explain what they were doing -- to me, a mere spectator.
> Despite the money involved (and there is, indeed, a lot of that) the
> feeling
> of the place was very egalitarian.
>
> Needless to say, we spent most of our time in the pits.
>
> The Organizers
> ***************************
> Our goal for this trip was to assemble enough artwork and memorabilia to
> decorate a 590 square foot hot tub suite, which would be called the "Reno
> Air Racing Suite." To this end, we scoured the vendors, and purchased
> every poster, sticker and patch we could lay our hands on.
>
> At the end of the first day, however, we were noticeably short on stuff,
> much to our dismay. The vendors were mostly selling shirts and hats --
> not
> artwork -- and a lot of other "generic" stuff that simply didn't have the
> ring of "Reno"authenticity that we required. As we were looking around
> for
> options, Mary spotted a guy sitting in a golf cart, feet up, doing nothing
> at all.
>
> Reasoning that (a) a guy in a golf cart was on-staff, and (b) a guy doing
> nothing was probably a big wheel, she struck up a conversation, and
> explained our mission to him.
>
> Pay dirt!
>
> His eyes instantly grew animated, and he was obviously excited to hear
> about
> what we were doing at our little hotel. He gave us the location of the
> headquarters building, and the name of the head cheese to contact about
> obtaining some REAL memorabilia, and wanted to hear all about each suite.
> Totally at random we had stumbled across a guy who clearly knew all the
> right people, and we walked away marveling at our luck.
>
> Later in the day we headed over to the building -- which turned out to be
> a
> warehouse chock-full of vendor supplies -- and asked around for Mike
> Cummings. As luck would have it, the very first guy we asked turned out
> to
> be Mike, and we once again explained our mission, and our desire to create
> a
> unique air racing theme suite.
>
> As our story unfolded (it takes a while to explain our lame-brained notion
> of a hotel!), Mike was transformed from mildly interested to visibly
> enthused. A mechanic in real life (and a RARA employee for two weeks each
> year), Mike seemed to be taken with the concept of a Reno Suite in Iowa
> (go
> figure!), and -- much to our amazement -- he literally dropped EVERYTHING
> he
> was doing to drive us over to another warehouse, at the far end of the
> field, where all the old posters and patches from previous years were
> stored!
>
> Now, you must remember that Mike was the guy in charge of keeping all the
> vendors stocked. As such, his walkie talkie and cell phone were
> constantly
> going off, and a steady stream of people were running in and out, shouting
> for more "P-38 shirts, extra large!" on their way through the door. In
> the
> middle of ALL this pandemonium and frenzy, Mike simply listened to our
> story, was instantly caught up in it -- and drove us to the far end of the
> airport in search of REAL memorabilia.
>
> I was (and still am) dumbfounded at his friendliness and above-and-beyond
> hospitality. We spent the next 30 minutes digging through that
> warehouse,
> picking out the best autographed posters and patches from prior years,
> surrounded by old and new (yet to be awarded!) race trophies. He even
> supplied a large mailing tube, just so we wouldn't wreck our
> treasure-trove
> of posters on the flight home...
>
> He then drove us back to the grounds, all the while asking questions about
> the hotel and our flight to Reno. Upon our return he fetched his boss, a
> main race organizer (whose name I sadly can't recall), who also seemed
> thrilled about what we were doing.
>
> In the end, when I asked Mike what we owed him, he replied "nothing" --
> which I simply couldn't believe. He had given us several hundred dollars
> of impossible to find memorabilia (and that was at face value!), taken 30
> minutes out of what was probably the busiest day of his life -- and he
> would
> take nothing in exchange. I was and remain humbled to know that there are
> people in this world like him, and we will always remember Reno not for
> the
> racing, but for the incredible hospitality shown to us by the organizers.
>
> The Weather
> ***************************
> The climate in Reno is high desert, and even though it wasn't particularly
> hot (locals were wearing long pants), we were amazed to find ourselves
> thirsty ALL the time. I'll bet we consumed a gallon of water apiece each
> day, simply because the dryness and wind conspired to desiccate us.
>
> The wind on Friday was incredible. All week we had been watching the prog
> charts as a major winter storm loomed off-shore, and ahead of this system
> the wind just picked up and never stopped. In Iowa, we might see high
> winds associated with a storm system, but rarely in perfect VFR
> conditions,
> and rarely for a long period of time. At Stead, the wind literally blew
> at
> 25 knots all day long, with little or no variance or let up. Despite
> this,
> the races went off without delay -- no mean feat in some of those smaller
> biplanes!
>
> This wind -- along with abundant sunshine, the high altitude, and low
> humidity -- combined to make for a very tiring day. By the end of the
> day
> we were loaded with artwork, tired beyond description -- and literally
> getting sand-blasted as we waited for our shuttle bus back to the hotel.
>
> Unfortunately, due to bad traffic and unexpectedly large pre-weekend
> crowds,
> they ran way short of buses, and our wait stretched to over 90 minutes.
> Tempers flared and patience grew thin as the sun set and temperatures
> dropped, but eventually we were back at the hotel bar enjoying a cold one,
> marveling at how we keep experiencing such incredibly good luck with our
> crazy hotel endeavor.
>
> Our good cheer didn't last long, however, as we had been keeping a wary
> eye
> on the Weather Channel. After months of drought, it was obvious that a
> major weather change was imminent on the west coast, as a tropical storm
> coming up the Baja Peninsula was threatening to collide with a cold front
> off the Pacific. The talking heads were babbling incessantly about
> "early
> snow at higher elevations," and the prog charts showed no improvement for
> at
> least five days after the front passed.
>
> The deciding factor, however, was the fact that our daughter (back home
> with
> friends) was going to turn eleven on Tuesday. Missing her birthday was
> NOT
> an option, so we reluctantly began making plans for an early departure on
> Saturday, rather than waiting till after the final races on Sunday or
> Monday....
>
> The Flight Home
> ***************************
> Flight Service indicated that the front wouldn't hit the area until
> Saturday
> afternoon, so our Saturday morning departure would be doable. When we
> awakened Saturday morning, however, it was evident that things were
> developing more quickly than predicted. Moisture from that tropical storm
> was streaming up ahead of the front, causing clouds and some rain showers
> in
> the mountains -- our worst case scenario!
>
> Equally bad, the wind was howling at 15 gusting to 30 -- at sunrise. This
> could only mean bad things in the mountains to come.
>
> A helpful briefer went through the litany of conditions, and sadly stated
> that Battle Mountain (just the other side of the first set of big
> mountains
> east of Reno) was "mountain tops obscured in mist" -- and pronounced "VFR
> not recommended."
>
> He then went on to state that all other reporting stations were good VFR,
> an
> d mentioned that conditions at Battle Mountain were probably a morning
> thing
> that would abate by the time we got there. Apparently this is a not
> uncommon condition in the mountains, in the morning, and I was glad to be
> talking to an experienced, realistic briefer, rather than the
> all-too-common
> "Chicken Little the sky is falling!" type.
>
> Still, conditions were dicey enough to give me serious pause. We were at
> the airport, ready to go -- but should we? We had given up our precious
> hotel reservations on a sold-out weekend, so we had no where to stay if we
> aborted. Weather conditions were predicted to deteriorate and STAY bad
> for
> the next five days, so getting out soonest seemed like our best choice.
> My
> daughter's birthday loomed large at the end of our rainbow.
>
> I felt myself being cornered into making a "go/no-go" decision based on
> factors other than the current conditions, and I was determined NOT to let
> those factors influence my decision.
>
> But, of course, they did. Determining that we were safe to depart, and
> that
> clear skies beckoned just beyond Battle Mountain, we launched with some
> misgivings into the unknown.
>
> Climbing out of the Reno valley, we were buffeted around pretty good by
> wind
> shear and gusts. I was gratified to see, however, that the scattered
> clouds
> were several thousand feet above the surrounding mountains, and obviously
> remained that way as far as the eye could see to the east. At 11,500
> feet,
> we turned east toward home.
>
> Mary has never liked turbulence, ever since a very bad flight to Oelwein,
> IA
> one winter day several years back, and I could see that she was absolutely
> white-knuckled in the right seat. Although the bumps were continuous, I
> never thought they approached severe (or even the level we experienced
> that
> fateful day on our way to Oelwein) -- but you could never relax, even for
> a
> minute. All the horror stories about mountain turbulence and planes being
> thrown into unusual attitudes had us both completely on edge, and I found
> myself actually making the situation worse by over-controlling the plane
> when turbulence would toss a wing up or down.
>
> It took a conscious effort to release my claw grip from the yoke, and a
> few
> deep breaths to get myself back to flying the plane with two fingers,
> rather
> than both hands. This, of course, lessened the "induced turbulence"
> dramatically, as it always does, and I silently cursed myself for being so
> stupid...
>
> Glancing at my GPS, I was heartened to see 165 knots ground speed, meaning
> that we would at least get through the mountains quickly. With Mary
> tuning
> in AWOS's ahead, however, it was obvious that Battle Mountain (BAM) was
> going to be the gauntlet we needed to cross, as they were reporting
> lowered
> ceilings and virga in all quadrants. With the temperature aloft hovering
> around 20 degrees, virga would NOT be a good thing.
>
> As we droned along, a Skylane that had launched just behind us decided to
> go
> IFR, and climbed to 12,000 feet. I thought this was odd, as climbing to
> 12,000 would put him in the scattered layer (also at the known icing
> level),
> when we were in good VFR down at 11,500. In an effort to help, I made a
> PIREP to ATC, stating that we were in "good VFR at 11,500 feet" and gave
> our
> position for the benefit of the 182 pilot. Still, even though I
> questioned
> his judgment, I silently wished that I had his IFR option, and droned
> onward.
>
> As we approached BAM, we found ourselves being forced lower by a sloping
> cloud deck that had thickened from scattered to broken. We still had
> thousands of feet beneath us, and visibility was good, but I decided to
> use
> my moving map to follow I-80 anyway, reasoning that I could always play
> the
> "I follow roads" card if need be. We cheated our altitude down to 11,100
> feet in order to remain legally clear of clouds, and proceeded onward,
> noting the location of every air strip along the way.
>
> As we approached BAM, it was easy to see what was happening. The skies
> were
> bright and clear in the distance, beyond a lowering veil of virga. This
> was clearly the leading edge of the moisture, and it was precipitating out
> as it hit the cold, dry air. Not quite a rain shower yet, it was still a
> good, five-mile wide chunk of moisture that might result in icing. I
> aimed
> for the brightest spot.
>
> As we passed beneath the virga, I was heartened to penetrate this last
> line
> without the slightest icing. A bit of moisture on the windshield was the
> only indication of virga, and we soon broke out into clear air, as far as
> we
> could see! Yahoo!
>
> Suddenly the frequency came alive, as the 182 pilot behind us announced
> that
> he had lost his NAV radios, and would need vectors out of the clouds.
> Worse, he was picking up icing, and needed to get lower immediately.
>
> It was apparent (well, I'm guessing here) that he did not have a moving
> map
> GPS on board, but was relying instead on VORs and perhaps DME. Given his
> situation, a moving map display would have instantly shown him where
> I-80's
> valley was, and where he could have flown to remain clear of clouds and
> icing. The tension in his voice was palpable as ATC vectored him safely
> to
> a position directly behind us, and he was able to lower back into VFR
> conditions.
>
> Voice quavering, he announced that he'd "had enough" and was landing at
> Battle Mountain. A few minutes later, however, he called back, obviously
> relieved, and said that they had "had a change of heart" and were pressing
> on to their ultimate destination somewhere in Utah. Mary and I were both
> happy to hear that all had ended well for him, but I still can't
> understand
> why he had chosen to climb up into the clouds in those temperatures, in a
> Skylane, when we were in good VFR conditions...
>
> Although our weather worries were over, our turbulence problems were not.
> Beneath the cloud layers the turbulence was actually suppressed somewhat,
> but we were now in the clear air, where the turbulence could really get
> wound up. In retrospect we never hit anything beyond moderate
> turbulence, but there was simply no way to know what was to come.
> Occasionally we would hit an area that felt exactly like driving your car
> off of a curb at 30 mph, which would cause us to tense up in preparation
> for
> the worst -- which never came. After 90 minutes of this, however, I
> noticed that my shoulders and neck were aching from being knotted into a
> constant tension, trying to brace myself for whatever lay ahead.
>
> Was it dangerous? Nope. Was it uncomfortable? For sure -- and I
> wouldn't
> want to do it again.
>
> Luckily our tail wind (albeit not nearly as strong as our headwind had
> been
> three days earlier, naturally) held true, and we were whistling along at
> 165
> knots, leaned way back to 11 gallons per hour. As a result, we were able
> to entirely skip our first (of two) fuel stop, and landed instead at
> Scott's
> Bluff, NE. Once again we were fighting the clock, as we were now LOSING
> two hours of precious daylight on our flight home. Forced to forego a real
> meal, we powered down some peanut butter crackers and a Snickers bar,
> tanked
> up another 65 gallons (at over $3 per gallon), and arched back up into the
> sky.
>
> Scott's Bluff marks the end of the real mountains, and luckily the
> turbulence lessened dramatically from that point on. With Mary acting as
> PIC, we climbed back up to 11.5K in order to catch that big tailwind, and
> rode it all the way to Iowa, touching down about 20 minutes after sunset.
>
> Pushing the plane back into the hangar, a full 2-days before anyone
> expected
> us back, we pondered where to sleep. We knew that our hotel, right next
> door, was 100% booked for the night -- and we sure didn't want to go home
> yet -- but we were too wiped out to drive anywhere.
>
> So, we pulled out our unused camping gear, inflated our queen-sized air
> bed -- and enjoyed our best night's sleep of the trip, right there next to
> the plane...
>
> What a trip! I don't think we'll ever try it again, but it was worth
> doing once. And, boy, are we going to have the greatest "Reno Suite"
> anyone has ever seen!
>
> ;-)
> --
> Jay Honeck
> Iowa City, IA
> Pathfinder N56993
> www.AlexisParkInn.com
> "Your Aviation Destination"
>
>

[Jack Allison]

Jay Honeck wrote:

> We missed you, we missed Jim & Gail, we missed my best friend from college
> (who lives just north of Jim & Gail) -- hell, we even missed meeting folks
> from Iowa City who flew to Reno commercial!
>

Wow, I'm in good company then! Hmmm, maybe I should start a "Who got
stood up by the Honecks" thread and see just how many people didn't get
to see you. :-)

Dunno about flying from Iowa commercial though. Not nearly as much fun.
To quote my brother on our first OSH trip, "We could have flown
commercial and stayed in the Hilton for less money...but we had a hell
of a lot more fun". There's just something about a really long cross
country flight that, despite the cost (especially for a rental guy like
me), that is a ton of fun.

[David Johnson]

This "Winter Storm" (BTW it's still officially Summer till
tomorrow) was a surprise, and more than a month early.
However, after all the dire warnings the weekend turned out
to be rather nice where I sit (almost within sight of the
Pacific Ocean). All the precip we got was a couple of little
showers - both at night. I did take a look at the satellite
photos on Weather Underground on Sunday, and saw an exceptional
amount of cloudiness over all the western U.S. - except right
along the coast. Most unusual.

David Johnson

[Dylan Smith]

In article >, kage wrote:
> But, despite your barb on the instrument pilot, you have to remember that
> you are only half a pilot without the instrument rating.

Hrm. I would strongly disagree with that.
Are you only half a pilot if you've not done a full aerobatics course?
Only half a pilot if you don't have a glider rating? Only half a pilot
if you've never flown a twin?

No.

Different people have different missions, and to some an instrument
rating is completely irrelevant.

(Disclaimer: I *do* have an instrument rating and have flown ILS
approaches to the ragged minimums - but with my current flying profile,
I've not flown instruments in 3 years).

--
Dylan Smith, Castletown, Isle of Man
Flying: http://www.dylansmith.net
Frontier Elite Universe: http://www.alioth.net
"Maintain thine airspeed, lest the ground come up and smite thee"

[Dylan Smith]

In article <SLM3d.20035$wV.8031@attbi_s54>, Jay Honeck wrote:
> Our secret? We carefully avoided drinking beverages before launching.
> This, for a coffee addict like me, was one of the most difficult parts of
> the trip!

Especially since most pop and coffee is a diuretic (i.e. it makes you
go much sooner). You can drink plain water and still hold on fine for
that period - water will keep you with the fluids, but you won't have it
come out fast like coffee.

The longest GA leg I did was about the same length in a Piper Apache
which carried 7 hours of fuel. It was my ass that was sore after that...

--
Dylan Smith, Castletown, Isle of Man
Flying: http://www.dylansmith.net
Frontier Elite Universe: http://www.alioth.net
"Maintain thine airspeed, lest the ground come up and smite thee"

[Bob Fry]

"Jay Honeck" > writes:

> So, we borrowed their van and drove into Alliance for an outstanding
> country breakfast at Ben and Mel's (or something like that) -- with
> great food, ugly waitresses, and cheap prices. My kind of place!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Probably Mary's kind of place too.

Great post as always, Jay. Ya shoulda called me and I would have
escorted you to Half Moon Bay....

[Gene Seibel]

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message news:<kRE3d.82581$D%.55927@attbi_s51>...
> 2600 miles -- in two days. Whew!
>
> We're back from the Reno Air Races (two days early, sadly, to get out ahead
> of a winter storm system that rolled into the Rockies on Friday afternoon),
> and I'm here to tell you: Reno ROCKS!
>
> I've never seen anything quite like it. In Reno, aircraft engines that were
> designed to put out "only" 1500 horsepower are being pushed to over 3000
> horsepower, and are powering aircraft around an 8 mile oval course at over
> 500 mph, just a few feet off the ground, and just a few feet apart. To say
> it's exciting is a major understatement: It quite literally makes NASCAR
> look like a walk in the park.
>
> But I'm ahead of myself...

Great story, Jay.
--
Gene Seibel
Hangar 131 - http://pad39a.com/gene/plane.html
Because I fly, I envy no one.

[Jay Honeck]

> > But, despite your barb on the instrument pilot, you have to remember
that
> > you are only half a pilot without the instrument rating.
>
> Hrm. I would strongly disagree with that.

Don't worry, Dylan -- he always likes to throw that "I'm an instrument rated
pilot" around, like it's some sort of badge of courage.

I've safely flown from one end of this country to the other, for almost ten
years, VFR. In most cases (as was the case with the fellow in the 182), an
instrument rating would not help much in my Pathfinder. I'm simply not
going anywhere in ice, snow, or storms in my current steed, regardless of
who is pilot in command.

Now, if I had the wherewithal to own a Pilatus, King Air, or something
equally weather-capable, THEN the IR would be a true value -- and I'd have
one.

Until then, however, getting the rating would only be a fun diversion from
what I'm supposed to be doing.
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Jay Honeck]

> The longest GA leg I did was about the same length in a Piper Apache
> which carried 7 hours of fuel. It was my ass that was sore after that...

Speaking of this, two things of note:

1. After 21 hours in the air, our Lightspeed Twenty 3G headsets were STILL
comfortable. Well, by the end, the left ear piece was just starting to push
the bow of my glasses into my ear in an uncomfortable way -- but what an
amazing testament to the comfort of those headsets! (Best of all, they
continue to work perfectly...)

2. Ever on the longest legs our new seats were still comfortable. If we had
tried this flight before having the seats reupholstered, Mary would've had
to extract me from the plane surgically. Good seats are worth their weight
in gold!
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Dudley Henriques]

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message
news:CGU3d.79848$MQ5.5765@attbi_s52...
>> > But, despite your barb on the instrument pilot, you have to
>> > remember
> that
>> > you are only half a pilot without the instrument rating.
>>
>> Hrm. I would strongly disagree with that.
>
> Don't worry, Dylan -- he always likes to throw that "I'm an instrument
> rated
> pilot" around, like it's some sort of badge of courage.

Although I don't agree with the "half a pilot" statement as the manner
of presenting the gist of the sentiment, the basic intent of the
statement, which is to infer a certain degree of increase in proficiency
as a pilot by going through the process of obtaining the instrument
rating (even for a VFR pilot) is entirely in line with the thinking of
the professional flight instruction community.


>
> I've safely flown from one end of this country to the other, for
> almost ten
> years, VFR. In most cases (as was the case with the fellow in the
> 182), an
> instrument rating would not help much in my Pathfinder. I'm simply
> not
> going anywhere in ice, snow, or storms in my current steed, regardless
> of
> who is pilot in command.
>
> Now, if I had the wherewithal to own a Pilatus, King Air, or something
> equally weather-capable, THEN the IR would be a true value -- and I'd
> have
> one.
>
> Until then, however, getting the rating would only be a fun diversion
> from
> what I'm supposed to be doing.

I would disagree with you on this, simply based on your propensity for
extended cross country flights in VFR conditions. It's true that you can
do this VFR continusly for protracted periods and experience no problems
as you have done, but the "professional" advice from me anyway would be
for ANY pilot flying the type of schedule you like to fly ; along the
routes you seem to favor; should absolutely consider seriously, the
option of obtaining an instrument rating.
Flying extended cross country VFR, especially over mountainous
terrain.....you just never know when all that instrument training might
come in handy some day. But then again, that's just my opinion. You of
course would be the final judge about what's best in your individual
situation.
Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Newps]

kage wrote:
> Jay,
>
> Nice message.
>
> But, despite your barb on the instrument pilot, you have to remember that
> you are only half a pilot without the instrument rating.

Yeah, you could get the rating and make a stupid decision like the real
pilot in the story.

[Rick Durden]

Jay,

Sounds as if you had a great trip. I was parked at Sierra also, I
should have looked for you. Got in Wednesday evening, left yesterday
morning. It got cold on the flight line on Saturday and Sunday.

Warmest regards,
Rick

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message news:<kRE3d.82581$D%.55927@attbi_s51>...
> 2600 miles -- in two days. Whew!
>
> We're back from the Reno Air Races (two days early, sadly, to get out ahead
> of a winter storm system that rolled into the Rockies on Friday afternoon),
> and I'm here to tell you: Reno ROCKS!
>
> I've never seen anything quite like it. In Reno, aircraft engines that were
> designed to put out "only" 1500 horsepower are being pushed to over 3000
> horsepower, and are powering aircraft around an 8 mile oval course at over
> 500 mph, just a few feet off the ground, and just a few feet apart. To say
> it's exciting is a major understatement: It quite literally makes NASCAR
> look like a walk in the park.
>
> But I'm ahead of myself...
>
> The Flight Out
> ***************************
> Our flight started inauspiciously enough, with a line of showers and
> thunderstorms working it's way into Iowa as we tried to depart at sunrise.
> After waiting a bit to see how things would develop, it soon became apparent
> that we either launched now, or we'd be stuck waiting till the front blew
> through later that night. Since weak Midwestern summertime fronts are
> usually spotty and easily circumnavigated, we launched, with the knowledge
> that we might end up spending the night somewhere west of Des Moines.
>
> With Mary acting as PIC, we cautiously worked our way west, listening ahead
> to AWOSs, and aiming for the lighter areas of cloud cover. The ceiling never
> dropped below 3,000 feet, and visibility was good as we picked our way
> through light rain showers to the other side of the state. After passing
> through one last line just east of Omaha, we broke out into glorious
> sunshine and unlimited ceilings as far as the eye could see, as we winged
> our way across Nebraska. Things were looking up! (And we never saw
> another cloud, all the way to the west coast!)
>
> (An aside: For the first time, ever, we were able to see a full, 100%
> circular rainbow from the air. To see a round, 360 degree rainbow was
> worth the price of admission right then and there! What percentage of
> humans has ever seen one? It can't be very high...)
>
> Relaxing, I did a double-take as I checked our GPS ground speed -- 88 knots!
> Atlas usually trues out around 140 knots, so we were in for a looong day if
> this kind of head-wind persisted. Luckily, the air was smooth at 8,500
> feet, so we just loosened up the seat belts, turned on the autopilot, and
> popped in another CD -- there was not much else we could do.
>
> At last, Alliance, NE -- our first stop -- crept into view, with our ground
> speed hovering around a disastrous 100 knots. Instead of taking 3.5 hours,
> this first leg had taken close to five -- and we weren't even a third of the
> way to Reno!
>
> Alliance was chosen because (a) Jim Weir said they carried mogas, and
> because (b) according to AOPA, they had a restaurant on the field. Well,
> we managed to buy their last 50 gallons of mogas (which, according to the
> FBO owner, they'll never be able to sell it again, due to insurance
> restrictions), had to take the rest in avgas -- and found that the
> restaurant had closed back in 1997. (Thanks AOPA!)
>
> So, we borrowed their van and drove into Alliance for an outstanding country
> breakfast at Ben and Mel's (or something like that) -- with great food, ugly
> waitresses, and cheap prices. My kind of place!
>
> Refreshed, we launched again into clear blue skies with me as PIC, wondering
> what this headwind was going to do in the mountains ahead. Of course, we
> were approaching the mountains at mid-day -- the worst possible time for
> turbulence, according to the many mountain flying sources we consulted
> before this flight. Sadly, however, we discovered that when you live in
> Iowa there simply isn't much choice but to fly across them at mid-day,
> unless you want to take two days to get to Reno.
>
> Since we didn't have that kind of luxury, we simply took our chances with
> the bumps...
>
> Our ground speed gradually picked up to a more respectable 125 knots -- but
> we continued to fall way behind schedule. As we passed Scott's Bluff the
> terrain became more and more forbidding, with less evidence of human
> habitation with every passing mile. Soon the foothills gave way to
> mountains, which, to this flat-lander, looked pretty danged big indeed!
>
> Atlas was running like a champ, as always, but we were sure wishing he was
> turbo-charged as we droned along. At 10,500 feet, we were only able to pull
> around 19 inches of manifold pressure, which sure didn't give us much
> "ooomph" -- and the really big stuff still lay ahead. Occasionally we'd hit
> a smoothly rising pocket of air, and I'd have to push over to maintain
> altitude. During these brief spells, our ground speed would approach a more
> normal 135 knots -- but the inevitable sinking pocket of air would soon
> follow, necessitating a pull back to maintain altitude. During these
> spells, ground speed would decay to an abysmal 85 knots.
>
> By the end of the flight my left arm was noticeably sore from fighting this
> up/down tendency, but that lay ahead...
>
> Luckily, despite the strong winds aloft, we didn't hit any bad mountain
> turbulence, and we were able to truly appreciate the majesty and glory of
> the mountains from our tall -- if slow -- perch. Moments of spiritual
> contemplation were broken only by the discomfiting knowledge that any engine
> failure would likely be unsurvivable, as we crossed ridge after ridge of
> ever-higher mountains. For the first time in my flying life, I longed for a
> twin engined plane...
>
> Flying VOR to VOR (only because they are placed in the lowest points in the
> valley), our moving map GPS at last displayed Ogden, Utah creeping into
> range. The approach into Ogden was truly spectacular, as we crossed through
> a high pass at 10,500 feet, and then rapidly descended to land at the Ogden
> airport down at 4500 feet or so. Skimming through the pass, with pine
> trees and rocks seemingly just a few feet away, only to have the whole world
> drop out from beneath you to reveal the great Salt Lake basin beyond, is a
> truly wondrous experience!
>
> With a quick gas up in Ogden (I knew we were in trouble when the line guys
> were wearing ties -- the gas was $3.07 a gallon, and we needed over 60
> gallons again), we were on our way to Reno, with no further stops planned.
> After almost 8 hours in the air, and constant exposure to high altitude, we
> were starting to feel pretty tired, but knowing the goal was in reach kept
> us enthused. However, I was glad to let "Otto" fly the plane as we simply
> monitored our progress on the maps, making minor course corrections and
> watching as Reno inched ever closer.
>
> Our plan was to land at Grass Valley, CA, in order to camp in Jim Weir's
> yard for the night, followed by a return to Reno for a few days of hotels.
> However, as we pressed westward, our ground speed never consistently
> exceeded 130 knots, and our "easy" flight to Jim's was looking less and less
> likely. A quick check with a bored military controller just west of Salt
> Lake City confirmed that the sun would set in Reno just past 7 PM, and --
> despite picking up two hours as we crossed from Central to Mountain to
> Pacific daylight times -- it was looking like we might have to stop
> somewhere short of Jim's for the night.
>
> In fact, as we crossed Winnemucca, Nevada, our ETA to Reno was clicking down
> precisely to sunset, so we knew that we weren't going to be seeing Jim or
> Gail that night. It's one thing for a couple of dumb flat-landers to tempt
> the Rockies in a single engine plane in the daytime -- it's another thing
> entirely to try crossing them in the dark!
>
> We at last touched down at Reno International just after sunset, an
> incredible 12+ hours of flight-time after leaving Iowa City. Our estimated
> flight time had expanded exponentially, but we were, at last, safe on the
> ground.
>
> We chose to park at Sierra, assuming that we'd only be there one night.
> Even though it was only Wednesday, there were aircraft parked EVERYWHERE.
> Fortunately, we got one of their last three single-engine aircraft parking
> spots, for which they "only" charged us $25 per night -- and gas was a
> painful $3.37 per gallon! Since we once again needed over 65 gallons, Reno
> proved to be the most expensive single fuel stop we'd ever experienced!
>
> The folks there were very helpful, however, and gave us a ride to the
> commercial side of the airport, where we could catch our hotel's airport
> shuttle bus. Within an hour I was sitting in a casino restaurant, dizzy
> with fatigue after 12+ hours in the plane -- but glad (and somewhat amazed)
> to at last be in Reno!
>
> The Hotel
> ***************************
> The next morning we "slept in" till 7 AM local time -- 9 AM our time -- and
> started preparing for a day at the races. After pondering our options, we
> soon realized that -- given the parking situation -- if we were to fly up to
> Jim and Gail's for the day, we would not be able to return to Reno. This
> would leave us with the sorry option of driving back and forth each day,
> which was not something we wanted to deal with all weekend -- we were there
> to see RACING!
>
> So, a quick call to Gail allowed us to sadly beg off of our commitment to
> use their shower and eat their food (I suspect they weren't quite as
> disappointed as we were!), and we opted to "hotel it" for the remainder of
> our stay.
>
> The Silver Legacy hotel turned out to be the perfect solution to seeing the
> Reno Air Races. Located in downtown Reno, it joins seamlessly with the
> Circus Circus and Eldorado casinos, providing easy access to their many
> restaurants and bars. Mary and I both hate to lose money, so we never
> really checked out the gambling options -- but, for those who care about
> such things, they were obvious and plentiful.
>
> Best of all, the hotels were running a continuous shuttle bus out to the
> race site, Stead Airport. The bus was a bit pricey, at $16 apiece round
> trip -- but eliminating the "hassle factor" made it well worth it. (And
> auto parking was 8 bucks, which made the bus look even better.)
>
> If we are ever lucky enough to return to Reno, we will go back to the Silver
> Legacy.
>
> The Races
> ***************************
> Upon arrival we found the ticket booths to be well-staffed, and we were soon
> inside the grounds, marveling at the huge, purpose-built grandstands that
> edged the airport ramp. Having spent many years at airports, ones eyes have
> grown accustomed to seeing certain things: A beacon. Gas pumps. An FBO.
> A wind tee. Mary and I both agreed that grandstands and bleachers looked
> decidedly out of place!
>
> But what a view from up there! I didn't realize that you could actually see
> the entire race course from in the stands, but due to the gradually rising
> terrain and the height of the stands, you can easily follow the entire race.
> The race course is in a bowl, mostly ringed by mountains, which provide a
> marvelous backdrop to the world's fastest motor sport.
>
> And, wow, are they fast! When we arrived they were doing a T-6 race, which
> looked pretty fast to my newbie eyes. In this class, because the aircraft
> are so similar, the race is decided mostly by skill, rather than by brute
> horsepower. (An aside: In years past, the T-6s were always the "middle
> fast" race, with the biplanes occupying the "slowest of the bunch" category.
> This year, some highly modified biplanes actually exceeded the T-6 race
> speeds, relegating the T-6 drivers to the "slowest" category for the first
> time. I imagine this didn't sit well with those guys!) The winner looked
> like he was flying on rails, and his consistency was obviously the key to
> success.
>
> They then ran a Sport Class race, which is run on a smaller course -- and
> those guys were just screaming around the track at over 340 mph! Darryl
> Greenamyer has a tricked out Lancair that goes incredibly fast, and the
> Thunder Mustang (which would have beaten the Lancair, if it could have held
> together long enough) just sounded other-worldly!
>
> After scouting out the vendors (this was, after all, a shopping trip for our
> new Reno Air Racing Suite), we soon settled into the race routine. A race
> would take place (qualifying heats, early on), followed by an airshow
> performance, followed by a military flight demonstration -- and then another
> race would start. This pattern continued throughout the day, and meant that
> there was never a dull moment!
>
> Red Bull Air Race
> ***************************
> The Red Bull Air Race was a new addition this year, and it proved to be
> incredibly popular. A timed event, each aerobatic pilot had to fly the
> same closed course, marked by giant, inflatable pylons spaced directly in
> front of the grandstands. With specific assigned maneuvers, each pilot
> threw his plane around the course with wild abandon, to the delight and
> amazement of a very jaded and knowledgeable crowd.
>
> The wind was really whipping, which made the course doubly exciting as the
> inflatable pylons waved ominously back and forth, seemingly trying to knock
> down the planes. They set up three gigantic "jumbotron" TVs out in front of
> the crowd, and, with live cameras transmitting from inside the cockpits, you
> could clearly see those giant pylons waving to and fro as each competitor
> knifed between them!
>
> Coolest of all: Each pilot had to do a touch-and-go landing, on a 4 foot
> patch of yellow chalk right in front of the stands -- coming out of a loop!
> If they missed, it was a huge penalty.
>
> Exciting doesn't describe it!
>
> The Jet Class
> ***************************
> This year the jets -- all Czech L-39s -- had a real race and class of their
> own. (Apparently they've only flown exhibition races till now.) These
> races are all decided by piloting skill, since the aircraft themselves are
> virtually identical, and they really whip around that course. They lack
> the thunder and drama of the unlimiteds, but they are still very, very cool.
> (Especially since those guys are flying around in pressurized, air
> conditioned comfort, unlike the rest of the field!)
>
> The Unlimiteds
> ***************************
> Of course, the Unlimiteds are what everyone goes to Reno to see. Originally
> World War II fighter planes, the top contenders have all long-since been
> modified into something far afield from their warbird days. Rare Bear, for
> example -- originally a Grumman Bearcat -- has been so highly modified that
> it's hard to see any wartime vestiges at all.
>
> Engines are souped up way beyond anything their original designers could
> have imagined, pulling twice as much manifold pressure and putting out
> double the horsepower. The sound emanating from these engines is absolutely
> indescribable, and brought chills up my spine with every lap. To see Dago
> Red (what used to be a P-51 Mustang) screaming around the pylons in a
> continual, knife-edge left turn, just feet from the ground, was truly an
> amazing sight, and one I'll never forget.
>
> The fact that there is almost literally a "Mayday!" declared on every race
> indicates how hard these guys are pushing these engines. No one came to
> any distress, but the constant danger and risk was thick in the air whenever
> those beasts were airborne.
>
> The Pits
> ***************************
> Everyone told us that this was THE place to be -- and they couldn't have
> been more right on. The pits are an amazing place to spend the day, with
> row after row of incredibly beautiful and complex race planes lined up like
> soldiers. Swarming on each plane was a small army of mechanics and support
> crew, tweaking, repairing, polishing, and adjusting those high-strung
> thoroughbreds to race-day perfection.
>
> Depending on the racer's reputation and stature, you might have five guys
> wrenching away in relative anonymity -- or, in the case of the bigger names,
> you might have a dozen or more crew members, all wearing uniform shirts,
> with dedicated vendors nearby selling everything from "Rare Bear" posters to
> "Strega" polo shirts.
>
> The most amazing part, to me, was how approachable everyone was. If you've
> ever attended a Formula One race, you know that the pits are accessible, but
> only with your eyes. Most of the race teams are all wearing identical jump
> suits, and treat visitors at best as if they were invisible.
>
> In Reno, everyone is utterly accessible, even the biggest names. Ask a
> mechanic what he's working on, and he'll actually tell you! Strike up a
> conversation with any random guy, and you might discover that he's the race
> pilot. Everyone is doing what they love most, and they all know how
> incredibly special and lucky they are to be there -- so there are no prima
> donnas or elitists in the group.
>
> Or, at least, we never met any of them.
>
> A great example: Rare Bear was "making metal" after flying on Wednesday,
> and we watched as those guys spent all day (and night!) tracking the source
> down to a turbo-supercharger -- which they then completely replaced. We
> were able to watch as they did instant oil analysis (they had a lab in their
> support semi truck!), and determined that they had, indeed found the
> problem, clearing the big plane for racing.
>
> I was able to ask one of their team what was going on, and he actually took
> the time to explain what they were doing -- to me, a mere spectator.
> Despite the money involved (and there is, indeed, a lot of that) the feeling
> of the place was very egalitarian.
>
> Needless to say, we spent most of our time in the pits.
>
> The Organizers
> ***************************
> Our goal for this trip was to assemble enough artwork and memorabilia to
> decorate a 590 square foot hot tub suite, which would be called the "Reno
> Air Racing Suite." To this end, we scoured the vendors, and purchased
> every poster, sticker and patch we could lay our hands on.
>
> At the end of the first day, however, we were noticeably short on stuff,
> much to our dismay. The vendors were mostly selling shirts and hats -- not
> artwork -- and a lot of other "generic" stuff that simply didn't have the
> ring of "Reno"authenticity that we required. As we were looking around for
> options, Mary spotted a guy sitting in a golf cart, feet up, doing nothing
> at all.
>
> Reasoning that (a) a guy in a golf cart was on-staff, and (b) a guy doing
> nothing was probably a big wheel, she struck up a conversation, and
> explained our mission to him.
>
> Pay dirt!
>
> His eyes instantly grew animated, and he was obviously excited to hear about
> what we were doing at our little hotel. He gave us the location of the
> headquarters building, and the name of the head cheese to contact about
> obtaining some REAL memorabilia, and wanted to hear all about each suite.
> Totally at random we had stumbled across a guy who clearly knew all the
> right people, and we walked away marveling at our luck.
>
> Later in the day we headed over to the building -- which turned out to be a
> warehouse chock-full of vendor supplies -- and asked around for Mike
> Cummings. As luck would have it, the very first guy we asked turned out to
> be Mike, and we once again explained our mission, and our desire to create a
> unique air racing theme suite.
>
> As our story unfolded (it takes a while to explain our lame-brained notion
> of a hotel!), Mike was transformed from mildly interested to visibly
> enthused. A mechanic in real life (and a RARA employee for two weeks each
> year), Mike seemed to be taken with the concept of a Reno Suite in Iowa (go
> figure!), and -- much to our amazement -- he literally dropped EVERYTHING he
> was doing to drive us over to another warehouse, at the far end of the
> field, where all the old posters and patches from previous years were
> stored!
>
> Now, you must remember that Mike was the guy in charge of keeping all the
> vendors stocked. As such, his walkie talkie and cell phone were constantly
> going off, and a steady stream of people were running in and out, shouting
> for more "P-38 shirts, extra large!" on their way through the door. In the
> middle of ALL this pandemonium and frenzy, Mike simply listened to our
> story, was instantly caught up in it -- and drove us to the far end of the
> airport in search of REAL memorabilia.
>
> I was (and still am) dumbfounded at his friendliness and above-and-beyond
> hospitality. We spent the next 30 minutes digging through that warehouse,
> picking out the best autographed posters and patches from prior years,
> surrounded by old and new (yet to be awarded!) race trophies. He even
> supplied a large mailing tube, just so we wouldn't wreck our treasure-trove
> of posters on the flight home...
>
> He then drove us back to the grounds, all the while asking questions about
> the hotel and our flight to Reno. Upon our return he fetched his boss, a
> main race organizer (whose name I sadly can't recall), who also seemed
> thrilled about what we were doing.
>
> In the end, when I asked Mike what we owed him, he replied "nothing" --
> which I simply couldn't believe. He had given us several hundred dollars
> of impossible to find memorabilia (and that was at face value!), taken 30
> minutes out of what was probably the busiest day of his life -- and he would
> take nothing in exchange. I was and remain humbled to know that there are
> people in this world like him, and we will always remember Reno not for the
> racing, but for the incredible hospitality shown to us by the organizers.
>
> The Weather
> ***************************
> The climate in Reno is high desert, and even though it wasn't particularly
> hot (locals were wearing long pants), we were amazed to find ourselves
> thirsty ALL the time. I'll bet we consumed a gallon of water apiece each
> day, simply because the dryness and wind conspired to desiccate us.
>
> The wind on Friday was incredible. All week we had been watching the prog
> charts as a major winter storm loomed off-shore, and ahead of this system
> the wind just picked up and never stopped. In Iowa, we might see high
> winds associated with a storm system, but rarely in perfect VFR conditions,
> and rarely for a long period of time. At Stead, the wind literally blew at
> 25 knots all day long, with little or no variance or let up. Despite this,
> the races went off without delay -- no mean feat in some of those smaller
> biplanes!
>
> This wind -- along with abundant sunshine, the high altitude, and low
> humidity -- combined to make for a very tiring day. By the end of the day
> we were loaded with artwork, tired beyond description -- and literally
> getting sand-blasted as we waited for our shuttle bus back to the hotel.
>
> Unfortunately, due to bad traffic and unexpectedly large pre-weekend crowds,
> they ran way short of buses, and our wait stretched to over 90 minutes.
> Tempers flared and patience grew thin as the sun set and temperatures
> dropped, but eventually we were back at the hotel bar enjoying a cold one,
> marveling at how we keep experiencing such incredibly good luck with our
> crazy hotel endeavor.
>
> Our good cheer didn't last long, however, as we had been keeping a wary eye
> on the Weather Channel. After months of drought, it was obvious that a
> major weather change was imminent on the west coast, as a tropical storm
> coming up the Baja Peninsula was threatening to collide with a cold front
> off the Pacific. The talking heads were babbling incessantly about "early
> snow at higher elevations," and the prog charts showed no improvement for at
> least five days after the front passed.
>
> The deciding factor, however, was the fact that our daughter (back home with
> friends) was going to turn eleven on Tuesday. Missing her birthday was NOT
> an option, so we reluctantly began making plans for an early departure on
> Saturday, rather than waiting till after the final races on Sunday or
> Monday....
>
> The Flight Home
> ***************************
> Flight Service indicated that the front wouldn't hit the area until Saturday
> afternoon, so our Saturday morning departure would be doable. When we
> awakened Saturday morning, however, it was evident that things were
> developing more quickly than predicted. Moisture from that tropical storm
> was streaming up ahead of the front, causing clouds and some rain showers in
> the mountains -- our worst case scenario!
>
> Equally bad, the wind was howling at 15 gusting to 30 -- at sunrise. This
> could only mean bad things in the mountains to come.
>
> A helpful briefer went through the litany of conditions, and sadly stated
> that Battle Mountain (just the other side of the first set of big mountains
> east of Reno) was "mountain tops obscured in mist" -- and pronounced "VFR
> not recommended."
>
> He then went on to state that all other reporting stations were good VFR, an
> d mentioned that conditions at Battle Mountain were probably a morning thing
> that would abate by the time we got there. Apparently this is a not
> uncommon condition in the mountains, in the morning, and I was glad to be
> talking to an experienced, realistic briefer, rather than the all-too-common
> "Chicken Little the sky is falling!" type.
>
> Still, conditions were dicey enough to give me serious pause. We were at
> the airport, ready to go -- but should we? We had given up our precious
> hotel reservations on a sold-out weekend, so we had no where to stay if we
> aborted. Weather conditions were predicted to deteriorate and STAY bad for
> the next five days, so getting out soonest seemed like our best choice. My
> daughter's birthday loomed large at the end of our rainbow.
>
> I felt myself being cornered into making a "go/no-go" decision based on
> factors other than the current conditions, and I was determined NOT to let
> those factors influence my decision.
>
> But, of course, they did. Determining that we were safe to depart, and that
> clear skies beckoned just beyond Battle Mountain, we launched with some
> misgivings into the unknown.
>
> Climbing out of the Reno valley, we were buffeted around pretty good by wind
> shear and gusts. I was gratified to see, however, that the scattered clouds
> were several thousand feet above the surrounding mountains, and obviously
> remained that way as far as the eye could see to the east. At 11,500 feet,
> we turned east toward home.
>
> Mary has never liked turbulence, ever since a very bad flight to Oelwein, IA
> one winter day several years back, and I could see that she was absolutely
> white-knuckled in the right seat. Although the bumps were continuous, I
> never thought they approached severe (or even the level we experienced that
> fateful day on our way to Oelwein) -- but you could never relax, even for a
> minute. All the horror stories about mountain turbulence and planes being
> thrown into unusual attitudes had us both completely on edge, and I found
> myself actually making the situation worse by over-controlling the plane
> when turbulence would toss a wing up or down.
>
> It took a conscious effort to release my claw grip from the yoke, and a few
> deep breaths to get myself back to flying the plane with two fingers, rather
> than both hands. This, of course, lessened the "induced turbulence"
> dramatically, as it always does, and I silently cursed myself for being so
> stupid...
>
> Glancing at my GPS, I was heartened to see 165 knots ground speed, meaning
> that we would at least get through the mountains quickly. With Mary tuning
> in AWOS's ahead, however, it was obvious that Battle Mountain (BAM) was
> going to be the gauntlet we needed to cross, as they were reporting lowered
> ceilings and virga in all quadrants. With the temperature aloft hovering
> around 20 degrees, virga would NOT be a good thing.
>
> As we droned along, a Skylane that had launched just behind us decided to go
> IFR, and climbed to 12,000 feet. I thought this was odd, as climbing to
> 12,000 would put him in the scattered layer (also at the known icing level),
> when we were in good VFR down at 11,500. In an effort to help, I made a
> PIREP to ATC, stating that we were in "good VFR at 11,500 feet" and gave our
> position for the benefit of the 182 pilot. Still, even though I questioned
> his judgment, I silently wished that I had his IFR option, and droned
> onward.
>
> As we approached BAM, we found ourselves being forced lower by a sloping
> cloud deck that had thickened from scattered to broken. We still had
> thousands of feet beneath us, and visibility was good, but I decided to use
> my moving map to follow I-80 anyway, reasoning that I could always play the
> "I follow roads" card if need be. We cheated our altitude down to 11,100
> feet in order to remain legally clear of clouds, and proceeded onward,
> noting the location of every air strip along the way.
>
> As we approached BAM, it was easy to see what was happening. The skies were
> bright and clear in the distance, beyond a lowering veil of virga. This
> was clearly the leading edge of the moisture, and it was precipitating out
> as it hit the cold, dry air. Not quite a rain shower yet, it was still a
> good, five-mile wide chunk of moisture that might result in icing. I aimed
> for the brightest spot.
>
> As we passed beneath the virga, I was heartened to penetrate this last line
> without the slightest icing. A bit of moisture on the windshield was the
> only indication of virga, and we soon broke out into clear air, as far as we
> could see! Yahoo!
>
> Suddenly the frequency came alive, as the 182 pilot behind us announced that
> he had lost his NAV radios, and would need vectors out of the clouds.
> Worse, he was picking up icing, and needed to get lower immediately.
>
> It was apparent (well, I'm guessing here) that he did not have a moving map
> GPS on board, but was relying instead on VORs and perhaps DME. Given his
> situation, a moving map display would have instantly shown him where I-80's
> valley was, and where he could have flown to remain clear of clouds and
> icing. The tension in his voice was palpable as ATC vectored him safely to
> a position directly behind us, and he was able to lower back into VFR
> conditions.
>
> Voice quavering, he announced that he'd "had enough" and was landing at
> Battle Mountain. A few minutes later, however, he called back, obviously
> relieved, and said that they had "had a change of heart" and were pressing
> on to their ultimate destination somewhere in Utah. Mary and I were both
> happy to hear that all had ended well for him, but I still can't understand
> why he had chosen to climb up into the clouds in those temperatures, in a
> Skylane, when we were in good VFR conditions...
>
> Although our weather worries were over, our turbulence problems were not.
> Beneath the cloud layers the turbulence was actually suppressed somewhat,
> but we were now in the clear air, where the turbulence could really get
> wound up. In retrospect we never hit anything beyond moderate
> turbulence, but there was simply no way to know what was to come.
> Occasionally we would hit an area that felt exactly like driving your car
> off of a curb at 30 mph, which would cause us to tense up in preparation for
> the worst -- which never came. After 90 minutes of this, however, I
> noticed that my shoulders and neck were aching from being knotted into a
> constant tension, trying to brace myself for whatever lay ahead.
>
> Was it dangerous? Nope. Was it uncomfortable? For sure -- and I wouldn't
> want to do it again.
>
> Luckily our tail wind (albeit not nearly as strong as our headwind had been
> three days earlier, naturally) held true, and we were whistling along at 165
> knots, leaned way back to 11 gallons per hour. As a result, we were able
> to entirely skip our first (of two) fuel stop, and landed instead at Scott's
> Bluff, NE. Once again we were fighting the clock, as we were now LOSING
> two hours of precious daylight on our flight home. Forced to forego a real
> meal, we powered down some peanut butter crackers and a Snickers bar, tanked
> up another 65 gallons (at over $3 per gallon), and arched back up into the
> sky.
>
> Scott's Bluff marks the end of the real mountains, and luckily the
> turbulence lessened dramatically from that point on. With Mary acting as
> PIC, we climbed back up to 11.5K in order to catch that big tailwind, and
> rode it all the way to Iowa, touching down about 20 minutes after sunset.
>
> Pushing the plane back into the hangar, a full 2-days before anyone expected
> us back, we pondered where to sleep. We knew that our hotel, right next
> door, was 100% booked for the night -- and we sure didn't want to go home
> yet -- but we were too wiped out to drive anywhere.
>
> So, we pulled out our unused camping gear, inflated our queen-sized air
> bed -- and enjoyed our best night's sleep of the trip, right there next to
> the plane...
>
> What a trip! I don't think we'll ever try it again, but it was worth
> doing once. And, boy, are we going to have the greatest "Reno Suite"
> anyone has ever seen!
>
> ;-)

[Dudley Henriques]

"Newps" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> kage wrote:
>> Jay,
>>
>> Nice message.
>>
>> But, despite your barb on the instrument pilot, you have to remember
>> that you are only half a pilot without the instrument rating.
>
> Yeah, you could get the rating and make a stupid decision like the
> real pilot in the story.

or.......you could get the rating and NOT make stupid decisions and
become a much better pilot than you were before you got the rating,
which is exactly what happens to all but those who are accidents waiting
to happen anyway :-)
Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Mike Rapoport]

"Dudley Henriques" > wrote in message
ink.net...
>
> "Jay Honeck" > wrote in message
> news:CGU3d.79848$MQ5.5765@attbi_s52...
>>> > But, despite your barb on the instrument pilot, you have to remember
>> that
>>> > you are only half a pilot without the instrument rating.
>>>
>>> Hrm. I would strongly disagree with that.
>>
>> Don't worry, Dylan -- he always likes to throw that "I'm an instrument
>> rated
>> pilot" around, like it's some sort of badge of courage.
>
> Although I don't agree with the "half a pilot" statement as the manner of
> presenting the gist of the sentiment, the basic intent of the statement,
> which is to infer a certain degree of increase in proficiency as a pilot
> by going through the process of obtaining the instrument rating (even for
> a VFR pilot) is entirely in line with the thinking of the professional
> flight instruction community.
>
>
>>
>> I've safely flown from one end of this country to the other, for almost
>> ten
>> years, VFR. In most cases (as was the case with the fellow in the 182),
>> an
>> instrument rating would not help much in my Pathfinder. I'm simply not
>> going anywhere in ice, snow, or storms in my current steed, regardless of
>> who is pilot in command.
>>
>> Now, if I had the wherewithal to own a Pilatus, King Air, or something
>> equally weather-capable, THEN the IR would be a true value -- and I'd
>> have
>> one.
>>
>> Until then, however, getting the rating would only be a fun diversion
>> from
>> what I'm supposed to be doing.
>
> I would disagree with you on this, simply based on your propensity for
> extended cross country flights in VFR conditions. It's true that you can
> do this VFR continusly for protracted periods and experience no problems
> as you have done, but the "professional" advice from me anyway would be
> for ANY pilot flying the type of schedule you like to fly ; along the
> routes you seem to favor; should absolutely consider seriously, the option
> of obtaining an instrument rating.
> Flying extended cross country VFR, especially over mountainous
> terrain.....you just never know when all that instrument training might
> come in handy some day. But then again, that's just my opinion. You of
> course would be the final judge about what's best in your individual
> situation.
> Dudley Henriques
> International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
> Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired
>

I agree with Dudley, getting the rating will improve your skills and if you
require the rating for five minutes over the course of your flying carreer,
then it will be worth it. Since you have your own plane and already fly
frequently with your pilot-spouse, cost and time to get the rating and
maintain proficiency will be minimal. It will probably only take 10hrs or
less with a CFII some of which you would need for a biannual anyway. I
didn't need a commercial certificate but getting it was fun and my VFR
skills improved. I don't need an ATP but I am getting it because there are
a number of flight regimes I rarely do in the airplane (single engine
instrument stuff mostly) and I have already learned a few things by studying
and taking the written. Never miss an opportunity to improve yourself.

Mike
MU-2

[Newps]

Dudley Henriques wrote:

> Flying extended cross country VFR, especially over mountainous
> terrain.....you just never know when all that instrument training might
> come in handy some day.

Flying instruments in the mountains in a single like Jay's is the last
thing he needs an instrument rating for.

[Newps]

Dudley Henriques wrote:


>
>
> or.......you could get the rating and NOT make stupid decisions and
> become a much better pilot than you were before you got the rating,
> which is exactly what happens to all but those who are accidents waiting
> to happen anyway

Except the statistics say otherwise. Once you get in the 800-1000 hour
range, especially if you do it fairly quickly, all VFR, an IFR rating
will add little to nothing to your flying skills other than being able
to be legal.

[kage]

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message
news:CGU3d.79848$MQ5.5765@attbi_s52...
>> > But, despite your barb on the instrument pilot, you have to remember
> that
>> > you are only half a pilot without the instrument rating.
>>
>> Hrm. I would strongly disagree with that.
>
> Don't worry, Dylan -- he always likes to throw that "I'm an instrument
> rated
> pilot" around, like it's some sort of badge of courage.
>


I don't know why you assume that. Actually, I do not have an instrument
rating.

However, that does not change the fact that most cross country flights,
especially into high density areas, are safer and vastly easier on an
instrument flight plan. If you are too busy to provide the safety net that
the IR provides at least your wife should have one.

Send me your FBO's email address. I'll Paypal them the funds for Mary's
first IR lesson.

>I've safely flown from one end of this country to the other, for almost ten
years, VFR.<

Dream on! By your own admission you haven't. Your own recent posting about
scud running with your wife and family vividly points that out.

I have a friend who thought a lot like you and owned a Cessna 185, very much
like my own. I can just see the two of you talking about how to scud run a
certain route.

http://www.ntsb.gov/ntsb/brief.asp?ev_id=20040826X01293&key=1

This accident is now the focal point of the "Wings" program around here.
It's a case of compounded poor judgment.

You further naively insinuate that all instrument flying equates to
hazardous weather flying. I can't think of a single instrument flight I've
ever taken in a light aircraft (other than during my training with a mad
man) that involved any kind of hazardous weather.

Karl

[john smith]

If you don't already know it, you dehydrated yourselves.
The time you spent at altitude will take its toll without your realizing it.
I learned my lesson the hard way back in 1986. My wife and I rode with
another couple in their C310 from Columbus OH to Ft Lauderdale FL.
Six hours at 11000 feet with only a small bottle of water inflight. When
we landed I had a severe headache. We went from the airport to a
restaurant for dinner. I couldn't eat, but I did drink two pitchers of
ice water before I felt better.

Jay Honeck wrote:
>>Just courious, and some people may consider this too much information,
>>but... what do you do for relief on those long legs?

> Our longest leg was 5.4 hours -- almost two hours longer than our original
> flight plan -- so this could truly have been a serious problem. Luckily, it
> wasn't, thanks to long experience with cross-country flying.
> Our secret? We carefully avoided drinking beverages before launching.
> This, for a coffee addict like me, was one of the most difficult parts of
> the trip! Flying at sunrise without my usual caffeine jolt was a true
> hardship -- but it's one that's well worth enduring.
> Actually, the reverse was true -- we became quite thirsty aloft. To help
> with this, we kept a small water bottle on board, just to wet our lips and
> cut the thirst to a manageable level.
> Between limiting our fluid intake, and the extreme dryness at 11,000 feet,
> we had amazingly little trouble "holding it" for that long. (We had relief
> bags on board, just in case...)

[Javier Henderson]

"kage" > writes:

> But, despite your barb on the instrument pilot, you have to remember that
> you are only half a pilot without the instrument rating.

Oh, baloney. I've heard this kind of nonsense on every activity I've
been involved since being a kid, whether it was ham radio,
photography, astronomy, flying... you're not a true ham until you can
copy 60wpm in your head, you're not a true photographer until you
spend four hours on your belly on a frozen lake to take one photo, and
so on.

Jay is a full pilot, who has posted numerous accounts of really cool
flights, and with great narrative I might add.

-jav (instrument rated since 1993, but not bragging or belittling anyone)

[Dudley Henriques]

"Newps" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> Dudley Henriques wrote:
>
>> Flying extended cross country VFR, especially over mountainous
>> terrain.....you just never know when all that instrument training
>> might come in handy some day.
>
> Flying instruments in the mountains in a single like Jay's is the last
> thing he needs an instrument rating for.

Flying pre planned instruments in the mountains in a single isn't the
issue I'm talking about. Pre planned IFR requires a mating of weather,
terrain, equipment, and experience in any decision making process. Any
missing link in this equation is a basic 101 for anyone with even
average intelligence.
The issue is simply that 1. Instrument training increases even general
VFR pilot skills and as such is worthy of the effort in attaining that
training.
.......and 2. Any pilot flying extended VFR cross country on any regular
basis is well served to have an instrument rating even if the flight has
been planned VFR and a VFR flight plan is being used. Considering a VFR
pilot who likes extended long range cross country ; the additional
training and the rating just could come in handy some day.
Anyway....the value of instrument training even to a VFR pilot is well
known and accepted as being totally positive, and aside from those few
who like to find the occasional story about some idiot who used his
rating to kill himself as a reason for not getting the rating; getting
the rating is generally considered to be a good idea by the professional
flight instruction community.
Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Dudley Henriques]

"Newps" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> Dudley Henriques wrote:
>
>
>>
>>
>> or.......you could get the rating and NOT make stupid decisions and
>> become a much better pilot than you were before you got the rating,
>> which is exactly what happens to all but those who are accidents
>> waiting to happen anyway
>
> Except the statistics say otherwise. Once you get in the 800-1000
> hour range, especially if you do it fairly quickly, all VFR, an IFR
> rating will add little to nothing to your flying skills other than
> being able to be legal.

In my experience this isn't the case at all. In fact, it would be just
the reverse.
Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[john smith]

I don't agree with that at all.
Depending on how much long cross country flying you do (500+ miles), and
unless you wait for only the good weather, you should have learned
something about weather patterns in the areas of your travels.
This will aid your decision making (local knowledge).
Also, that same flight hour experience will have honed your flight
control manipulation skills to the point where your holding altitude and
heading are second nature instead of work.
There may be some habits that will have to be broken, but these are
procedual things which will be replaced with repetition and efficiency.
The instrument rating requires that you think and plan the flight in an
orderly sequence. At each stage of the flight you must be doing
something to prepare for the next.
Depending upon how high you are cruising and the destination elevation,
you need to begin thinking about the descent 60 nm out.
By the time you reach 30-40 nm from the destination, you should have
copied the destination weather, know what runway to use and what
approach to brief.
20 nm miles out, you should have all the radios set and run your pre
landing checklist.
10 nm miles out you will already be on the approach or vectored to the
final approach fix.
5 nm you will be stabilized on speed, altitude or rate of descent and
configured for landing.
If you only fly VFR, you may or may not already fly this way.
If you are scud running, you don't have a plan, you are making it up as
you go along, depending on what you see as you progress deeper into the
scud.


Newps wrote:
> Except the statistics say otherwise. Once you get in the 800-1000 hour
> range, especially if you do it fairly quickly, all VFR, an IFR rating
> will add little to nothing to your flying skills other than being able
> to be legal.

[Dylan Smith]

In article >, kage wrote:
> However, that does not change the fact that most cross country flights,
> especially into high density areas, are safer and vastly easier on an
> instrument flight plan. If you are too busy to provide the safety net that
> the IR provides at least your wife should have one.

I would STRONGLY disagree with that. Having an IR, I've flown on both
filthy weather days and fine weather days on an instrument flight plan.
I gave up filing on VFR days simply because it was much easier to just
use flight following instead. Most of my flying in the United States is
in high density areas (Houston's class B), and I've flown a light plane
in 26 states, including a coast-to-coast trip.

The only time I find an IFR flight plan and IFR procedures truly useful
in severe clear weather is at night at unfamiliar airports/territor.

--
Dylan Smith, Castletown, Isle of Man
Flying: http://www.dylansmith.net
Frontier Elite Universe: http://www.alioth.net
"Maintain thine airspeed, lest the ground come up and smite thee"

[Jack Allison]

Newps wrote:

> Except the statistics say otherwise.

What statistics? Would love to see them.


--
Jack Allison
PP-ASEL, IA Student

"When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the Earth
with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there
you will always long to return"
- Leonardo Da Vinci

(Remove the obvious from address to reply via e-mail)

[Rick Durden]

Jay,

I used to do the dehydration thing for long trips as well, but found
that as I aged it lead to some slow reactions and questionable
decision-making. Had a chat with an aviation medical type who
encouraged me NOT to dehydrate myself as the potential results were
more embarassing than using the piddle pack. Apparently the symptoms
of dehydration involve delayed reactions and impaired thinking.

Warmest regards,
Rick

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message news:<SLM3d.20035$wV.8031@attbi_s54>...
> > Just courious, and some people may consider this too much information,
> > but... what do you do for relief on those long legs?
>
> Our longest leg was 5.4 hours -- almost two hours longer than our original
> flight plan -- so this could truly have been a serious problem. Luckily, it
> wasn't, thanks to long experience with cross-country flying.
>
> Our secret? We carefully avoided drinking beverages before launching.
> This, for a coffee addict like me, was one of the most difficult parts of
> the trip! Flying at sunrise without my usual caffeine jolt was a true
> hardship -- but it's one that's well worth enduring.
>
> Actually, the reverse was true -- we became quite thirsty aloft. To help
> with this, we kept a small water bottle on board, just to wet our lips and
> cut the thirst to a manageable level.
>
> Between limiting our fluid intake, and the extreme dryness at 11,000 feet,
> we had amazingly little trouble "holding it" for that long. (We had relief
> bags on board, just in case...)

[Dave S]

kage wrote:
> "Jay Honeck" > wrote in message
>(CRAP SNIPPED)
> Karl
>

Ok, Kage, you cant "SHAME" someone into changing themselves... its
counterproductive.. It turns people off to you.

Poor judgement skills are not the sole realm of VFR private pilots..
there are plenty of other "professionals" out there who have exhibitied
such fine judgement that they become a black smudge on the ground or
mountainside.

My personal feelings on an instrument rating are that it increases the
utility of the airplane. It's not a license to ignore weather. I've made
a few "across the country" jaunts both VFR and IFR (CFI bro in law was
PIC for the IFR) and have to admit that being able to climb and descend
through layers, as well as shoot approaches into airports that were not
VFR does come quite in handy in making for a safe but expeditious trip.

Still had to go AROUND, rather than through areas of thunderstorms.. and
never had to deal with visible moisture in subzero temperatures.. but I
think that anyone who CAN safely complete an instrument rating would
benefit from it.. even if they never actually get "in the soup".

I have nobody but myself to blame for not finishing up my IR close to 3
years ago... and while my current flying activity isnt anywheres enough
to maintain that proficiency, I cant deny that the instrument TRAINING I
recieved along the way has benefitted me immensely, especially the 20
hours or so of ACTUAL that I have to date (yea... I was fortunate enough
to get some pretty good actual experience/instruction along the way)

You don't have anything to lose, Jay.. even if you dont finish the
rating, the training will help a LOT.

Dave
Houston

[Dave S]

Mike Adams wrote:

> "Jay Honeck" > wrote:
>
>
>>Our secret? We carefully avoided drinking beverages before launching.
>>This, for a coffee addict like me, was one of the most difficult parts of
>>the trip! Flying at sunrise without my usual caffeine jolt was a true
>>hardship -- but it's one that's well worth enduring.
>>
>
>
> I think we're getting to the real reason you were so tired after all day at
> 11,000 ft. And you thought it was the altitude. :-)
>
> Great story, Jay. Thanks for sharing.
>
> Mike

I have felt quite wiped out after making 4 and 5 hour legs at 10k feet
too.. I wonder if a little smidgen of oxygen would have helped a bit..

Dave

[Larry Dighera]

On Tue, 21 Sep 2004 20:11:30 GMT, Dave S >
wrote in t>::

>I have felt quite wiped out after making 4 and 5 hour legs at 10k feet
>too.. I wonder if a little smidgen of oxygen would have helped a bit..


That's what these are for:
http://www.mhoxygen.com/index.phtml?nav_id=28&product_id=390

[Morgans]

"Jay Honeck" > wrote

>
> And then, the coup de grace: Mary went to the frame shop today, to get all
> of those beautiful posters framed and matted. Augh!
>
> And I thought Avgas was expensive! Even with our usual "bulk discount"
the
> price was breath-taking...
>
> :-(
> --
> Jay Honeck


You need another hobby. ;-) Seriously, get a power miter saw, some picture
frame stock, and a matt cutter, and learn to do it yourself. It really is
not that hard, or time consuming. It could pay off. BIG time.
--
Jim in NC


---
Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free.
Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com).
Version: 6.0.766 / Virus Database: 513 - Release Date: 9/17/2004

[Brian Case]

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message news:<kiK3d.227481$Fg5.84932@attbi_s53>...
> > Most of us just "ride the wave." It took me a couple of trips and
> some
> > hangar flying with an old timer to get the idea. If you're VFR, why worry
> > about going uphill for a while as long as its free.
>
> Well, if I had been at 9500 or lower, I'd have done just that, probably.
> But at 10.5 or 11.5, we're already close to an altitude where oxygen would
> be good to have (I know this flat-lander was awfully tired after spending an
> entire workday above 11,000 feet), and I didn't want to go any higher.
>
> I thought about riding the downdrafts down, but I didn't know where they
> would stop! And that cumulo-granite sure looked hard...
>
> ;-)

Generally the up and down drafts will be well under 1000 ft of change.
So running between 10,000 and 12,000 would have been pretty easy.
500ft change even more common.

In our gliders most of us have fancy (or even not so fancy,Airspeeds
marked on the rate of climb indicator (vario)) computers to tell us
the best speed to fly through the lift and sink. In the Glider we slow
way down or even circle in the up and go like stink through the down
to get out if it.

More practical (and easier) in power aircraft is to just trim out for
level flight and let the currents raise and lower you. Adjust the
trim slightly if you would rather be higher or lower. If you want to
push a little in the sink and pull a little in the lift you will
improve you fuel economy and speed.

Brian
CFIIG/ASEL

[Jay Honeck]

> You don't have anything to lose, Jay.. even if you dont finish the
> rating, the training will help a LOT.

Thanks, Dave. According to my log book I've shot 52 approaches under the
hood, and have over 25 hours of instrument dual.

I *know* the training made me a better pilot.

But that's got nothing to do with getting the rating itself. Until I have
either (a) unlimited time or (b) a much more capable plane, there is simply
no good reason to finish up the rating.

Eventually I'll have one, or the other, or -- if I grow up to be Mike
Rappaport -- both!

;-)
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Jay Honeck]

> If you don't already know it, you dehydrated yourselves.
> The time you spent at altitude will take its toll without your realizing
it.
> I learned my lesson the hard way back in 1986. My wife and I rode with
> another couple in their C310 from Columbus OH to Ft Lauderdale FL.
> Six hours at 11000 feet with only a small bottle of water inflight. When
> we landed I had a severe headache. We went from the airport to a
> restaurant for dinner. I couldn't eat, but I did drink two pitchers of
> ice water before I felt better.

Interesting.

Neither of us had a headache, nor were we overly thirsty when we landed.
(Although a couple of Sam Adams DID go down really, REALLY fast at the
casino bar... ;-)

However, at the Air Races the next day, I was constantly, ravenously
thirsty. I'll bet I drank two gallons of water in the pit area, with the
sun, wind, and incredibly low relative humidity conspiring to dehydrate me.

A delayed (or compounded) reaction, perhaps?
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Newps]

Dudley Henriques wrote:
> "Newps" > wrote in message
> ...
>
>>
>>Dudley Henriques wrote:
>>
>>
>>
>>>
>>>or.......you could get the rating and NOT make stupid decisions and
>>>become a much better pilot than you were before you got the rating,
>>>which is exactly what happens to all but those who are accidents
>>>waiting to happen anyway
>>
>>Except the statistics say otherwise. Once you get in the 800-1000
>>hour range, especially if you do it fairly quickly, all VFR, an IFR
>>rating will add little to nothing to your flying skills other than
>>being able to be legal.
>
>
> In my experience this isn't the case at all. In fact, it would be just
> the reverse.

The stats say an instrument rated pilot is much more likely to take up
farming by scud running than a VFR only pilot.

[Jay Honeck]

> You need another hobby. ;-) Seriously, get a power miter saw, some
picture
> frame stock, and a matt cutter, and learn to do it yourself. It really is
> not that hard, or time consuming. It could pay off. BIG time.

You know, we've talked about doing this for two years, but by the time we
add up the cost of glass and materials, plus time, we just couldn't make it
make sense.

Where do you get glass cut? Or do you do it yourself? (And, if so, where
do you get "bulk" glass?)
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[G.R. Patterson III]

Dudley Henriques wrote:
>
> "Newps" > wrote in message
> ...
> > Except the statistics say otherwise. Once you get in the 800-1000
> > hour range, especially if you do it fairly quickly, all VFR, an IFR
> > rating will add little to nothing to your flying skills other than
> > being able to be legal.
>
> In my experience this isn't the case at all. In fact, it would be just
> the reverse.

According to AOPA, the majority of the fatal accidents involving VFR flight into IMC
have pilots with instrument ratings.

George Patterson
If a man gets into a fight 3,000 miles away from home, he *had* to have
been looking for it.

[Bob Noel]

In article <mj54d.88254$D%.56291@attbi_s51>, "Jay Honeck"
> wrote:

> But that's got nothing to do with getting the rating itself. Until I
> have
> either (a) unlimited time or (b) a much more capable plane,

your 235 isn't a capable airplane? What is it lacking?

--
Bob Noel
Seen on Kerry's campaign airplane: "the real deal"
oh yeah baby.

[Jay Honeck]

> > But that's got nothing to do with getting the rating itself. Until I
> > have
> > either (a) unlimited time or (b) a much more capable plane,
>
> your 235 isn't a capable airplane? What is it lacking?

It has neither the ability to fly in icing conditions, nor to penetrate or
get above the weather.

90% of the flights we scrub are due to either snow, icing or thunderstorms.
This will not change unless I have a more capable aircraft.

Which probably means it will *never* change.
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Dudley Henriques]

"G.R. Patterson III" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> Dudley Henriques wrote:
>>
>> "Newps" > wrote in message
>> ...
>> > Except the statistics say otherwise. Once you get in the 800-1000
>> > hour range, especially if you do it fairly quickly, all VFR, an IFR
>> > rating will add little to nothing to your flying skills other than
>> > being able to be legal.
>>
>> In my experience this isn't the case at all. In fact, it would be
>> just
>> the reverse.
>
> According to AOPA, the majority of the fatal accidents involving VFR
> flight into IMC
> have pilots with instrument ratings.

That might be true, but that's an incomplete stat for this discussion.
For example; how many pilots with instrument ratings have used those
ratings and filed safely to an alternate while on a VFR cross country
and been faced with weather INSTEAD of getting creamed by flying into
IMC? :-)
Statistics can be made to show almost anything you want them to show.
All I've been saying here is that in my opinion and in the opinion of
many of the instructors I know and have known throughout my career;
instrument training and obtaining an instrument rating will definitely
contribute to a better all around pilot.
The fact that AOPA says that in VFR to IMC accidents the high side
percentage goes to instrument rated pilots is fine, but unless we know
how many instrument rated pilots have NOT been involved in accidents
because they avoided those same IMC; the stats are inconclusive as far
as I can see, and again I say that it's common knowledge and not rocket
science that ANY form of intensive continuing training for a pilot makes
that pilot a better pilot and I believe that's really the gist of what
I've been saying.

Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Dudley Henriques]

"Newps" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> Dudley Henriques wrote:
>> "Newps" > wrote in message
>> ...
>>
>>>
>>>Dudley Henriques wrote:
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>>>
>>>>or.......you could get the rating and NOT make stupid decisions and
>>>>become a much better pilot than you were before you got the rating,
>>>>which is exactly what happens to all but those who are accidents
>>>>waiting to happen anyway
>>>
>>>Except the statistics say otherwise. Once you get in the 800-1000
>>>hour range, especially if you do it fairly quickly, all VFR, an IFR
>>>rating will add little to nothing to your flying skills other than
>>>being able to be legal.
>>
>>
>> In my experience this isn't the case at all. In fact, it would be
>> just the reverse.
>
> The stats say an instrument rated pilot is much more likely to take up
> farming by scud running than a VFR only pilot.

Worked for Frank Tallman anyway!

Does this stat also say how many instrumented rated pilots AVOIDED
trouble with those same IMC by using their added training and their
rating to alter a deteriorating VFR flight and end it safely?
For the purpose of this discussion, I fail to see where this stat will
stand alone without the other missing half of this equation :-)
Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Morgans]

"Jay Honeck" > wrote

> Where do you get glass cut? Or do you do it yourself? (And, if so,
where
> do you get "bulk" glass?)
> --
> Jay Honeck

I go half and half with cutting it myself, or getting it cut. For bulk
glass, find a glass shop. (sorry to be so obvious <G>) Find the right one
and they will sell it wholesale. But they will cut it for almost nothing,
and they eat the waste. (well, not really <g>)

If you do cut it yourself, get a GOOD cutter, not a hardware store model.
It will last a long long time, if you use the oil with it.

I guess the real issue is, I LIKE to do things myself. Hey, it sounds like
I would be a good airplane homebuilder. (different newsgroup)
--
Jim in NC


---
Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free.
Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com).
Version: 6.0.766 / Virus Database: 513 - Release Date: 9/17/2004

[Larry Dighera]

On Wed, 22 Sep 2004 02:58:33 GMT, "Dudley Henriques"
> wrote in
et>::

>
>> The stats say an instrument rated pilot is much more likely to take up
>> farming by scud running than a VFR only pilot.
>
>Worked for Frank Tallman anyway!


Alas, poor Mr. Tallman. It appears from the NTSB report, that he
tried to sneak through Ortega Canyon in the Santa Ana Mountains on the
way to Phoenix after days of scouting for movie locations. Though he
told his passenger he would skirt the storm by passing south of it, he
attempted a shortcut, and turned one canyon too soon into Trabuco
Canyon instead of Ortega Canyon. This happened during the evening of
one of the most severe storms to assault the area. It rained so hard
that it stopped traffic on the freeways according to eye witnesses.
Frank's Navajo was found with flaps deployed about 100' below the
summit of Mt. Pinos. There was no fire. The aircraft was salvaged,
and today very little evidence remains on the site of Mr. Tallman's
last landing.

Such an ignoble ending to a talented and noble gentlemen seems unjust.

Here's a satellite view of the terrain:
http://mapper.acme.com/?lat=33.613303&long=-117.32323&scale=14&theme=Image&width=3&height=2&dot=Yes

Here's a topographic map:
http://www.topozone.com/map.asp?z=11&n=3726091&e=456606&s=50&size=l&datum=nad83&layer=DRG25

[Mike Rapoport]

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message
news:mj54d.88254$D%.56291@attbi_s51...
>> You don't have anything to lose, Jay.. even if you dont finish the
>> rating, the training will help a LOT.
>
> Thanks, Dave. According to my log book I've shot 52 approaches under the
> hood, and have over 25 hours of instrument dual.
>
> I *know* the training made me a better pilot.
>
> But that's got nothing to do with getting the rating itself. Until I have
> either (a) unlimited time or (b) a much more capable plane, there is
> simply
> no good reason to finish up the rating.
>
> Eventually I'll have one, or the other, or -- if I grow up to be Mike
> Rappaport -- both!
>
> ;-)
> --
> Jay Honeck
> Iowa City, IA
> Pathfinder N56993
> www.AlexisParkInn.com
> "Your Aviation Destination"

I wish that I had unlimited time! I have a job, a marrage, two six year old
boys, three dogs, ten acres of meadow that needs mowing. Soon the North
Idaho winter will start and 1600' of driveway will need snowblowin'...I
think I'll stop now, this is getting depressing.

Mike
MU-2

[Larry Dighera]

On Wed, 22 Sep 2004 04:01:36 GMT, "Mike Rapoport"
> wrote in
t>::

>I wish that I had unlimited time! I have a job, a marrage, two six year old
>boys, three dogs, ten acres of meadow that needs mowing. Soon the North
>Idaho winter will start and 1600' of driveway will need snowblowin'...I
>think I'll stop now, this is getting depressing.

At some point one's possessions begin to own their owner.

[The Weiss Family]

Wow, Jay!
It was cool to hear about your trip.
It's funny to hear people's reaction to the wind here!
I'm always expecting a cross-wind landing ;-)

I found your story particularly interesting because in two weeks I'm making
a similar trek.
I'm flying my new plane back to Minden from the Dallas, TX area.
That's about the same distance, and I have to cross the rockies, too.
Although, I'm going to fly around as much of them as I can.

I'm a bit nervous and very excited.
I only have about 70hrs TT, so the 10+ hour trip will be a large percentage
of my total time in a plane.
I've planned every detail the best I could, and I've had several experienced
pilots (read CFI's) double check my work.
So, as long as I fly my plan, it should work out OK.

I don't know if I can paint as vivid a picture as you, but I'll try to
convey some cool stuff from the trip.
I'm planning on stopping in Bryce Canyon, Utah, which I drove through once.
It's beautiful.
Airport elevation is above 8000'.

Anyway, sorry you didn't make it to Minden. If you ever make it out west
again, you'll have to go soaring at Minden.

Great story!

Adam
PP-ASEL
Soon to be owner of N7966L - Super Musketeer!

[kage]

"Newps" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> The stats say an instrument rated pilot is much more likely to take up
> farming by scud running than a VFR only pilot.
>

If that were true the insurance people would stop giving discounts to
instrument rated pilots.

Karl

[Jay Beckman]

"Jay Honeck" > wrote in message
news:mj54d.82724$MQ5.31705@attbi_s52...
>> If you don't already know it, you dehydrated yourselves.
>> The time you spent at altitude will take its toll without your realizing
> it.
>> I learned my lesson the hard way back in 1986. My wife and I rode with
>> another couple in their C310 from Columbus OH to Ft Lauderdale FL.
>> Six hours at 11000 feet with only a small bottle of water inflight. When
>> we landed I had a severe headache. We went from the airport to a
>> restaurant for dinner. I couldn't eat, but I did drink two pitchers of
>> ice water before I felt better.
>
> Interesting.
>
> Neither of us had a headache, nor were we overly thirsty when we landed.
> (Although a couple of Sam Adams DID go down really, REALLY fast at the
> casino bar... ;-)
>
> However, at the Air Races the next day, I was constantly, ravenously
> thirsty. I'll bet I drank two gallons of water in the pit area, with the
> sun, wind, and incredibly low relative humidity conspiring to dehydrate
> me.
>
> A delayed (or compounded) reaction, perhaps?
> --
> Jay Honeck

Hi Jay,

A touch of delayed reaction may have compounded the situation, but the
desert is very efficient at sucking moisture out of anyone / anything.

Here in Phoenix, in the summer, I can consume a 64oz Gatorade during a round
of golf and never ever have the urge to visit a men's room (I freeze them
into giant Gatorade-cicles...)

I always take a 20oz Gatorade or water with me when I go fly. I may not
drink all of it over the course of a 1 to 1.5 hour long lesson, but I can
sure suck it down after the fact.

As for Reno/Stead Airport, you're talking desert environs + an elevation of
5050'...it's enough to dehydrate a tortoise!

Great write-up by the way!

Regards,

Jay "The Other Jay" Beckman
Student Pilot - KCHD
48 Hrs ... Nowhere to go but up!

[Paul Sengupta]

"Dudley Henriques" > wrote in message
ink.net...
> The issue is simply that 1. Instrument training increases even general
> VFR pilot skills and as such is worthy of the effort in attaining that
> training.

As I understood it, Jay had done most of the training required for
an IR but had not completed it.

I can see that the claim that the training makes you a better and
more accurate pilot would be true in the case of most VFR-only
pilots, but what about if you're as accurate already? Do you need
to take the IR course/tests if you fly pretty much this way anyway?

I suppose the question I'm asking is apart from being able to
legally fly in cloud and learning how to do instrument approaches,
how does doing an instrument course teach you to be a better
pilot?

Paul (IMC rated)

[Grumpy Ditch]

>> The stats say an instrument rated pilot is much more likely to take
up
>> farming by scud running than a VFR only pilot.
>
> Worked for Frank Tallman anyway!
>
> Does this stat also say how many instrumented rated pilots AVOIDED
> trouble with those same IMC by using their added training and their
> rating to alter a deteriorating VFR flight and end it safely?
> For the purpose of this discussion, I fail to see where this stat will
> stand alone without the other missing half of this equation :-)
> Dudley Henriques
> International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
> Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

Broad sweeps and wild stabs at statistics yanks the stats out of
context, I'm afraid.
Flawed reasoning in what otherwise could be an interesting thread.

Overconfident attitude inducing pilots to grossly misjudge their
limits, not the rating or lack thereof, is a major killer. Additional
training could inspire overconfidence as well as dampen it. You can
be overconfident at any level of training or experience.

One can generalize that the inexperienced tend to be more insecure,
more aware that there is a vast area they have yet to explore, and
less able to judge how to apply their knowledge. And that there are
levels of experience at which a pilot is particularly vulnerable to
the danger of overconfidence. Certainly continued training and
expanding the horizon helps to keep you on your toes, but that doesn't
mean that the person who doesn't make use of this or can't afford it
is by definition unsafe, or that the experienced don't misjudge their
limits.

Perhaps the most unsafe is bad behavior that is not checked and
becomes habit over time. Taking a good look at one's own limits from
time to time and regular reviews and tests help, but it's difficult to
measure "good airmanship".

Has anyone here read a little book by Avram Goldstein called "Flying
Out of Danger"? He made it a point to state cases that involve very
experienced pilots, just to prove that nobody is immune. Required
reading, IMHO.

FE.

[Paul Sengupta]

"Grumpy Ditch" > wrote in message
om...
> Overconfident attitude inducing pilots to grossly misjudge their
> limits, not the rating or lack thereof, is a major killer. Additional
> training could inspire overconfidence as well as dampen it. You can
> be overconfident at any level of training or experience.
>
> One can generalize that the inexperienced tend to be more insecure,
> more aware that there is a vast area they have yet to explore, and
> less able to judge how to apply their knowledge. And that there are
> levels of experience at which a pilot is particularly vulnerable to
> the danger of overconfidence. Certainly continued training and
> expanding the horizon helps to keep you on your toes, but that doesn't
> mean that the person who doesn't make use of this or can't afford it
> is by definition unsafe, or that the experienced don't misjudge their
> limits.

This is a distinction I've thought about in relation to flying and to
driving...the difference betwen "good pilot" and "safe pilot". These
may go together, but they may not. A good pilot is probably quite
safe, but a safe pilot may not be particularly good. "Good" doesn't
have a single definition. Good in relation to whom and what? Dudley?
Bob Hoover? A 20,000 hour ATP? The Red Arrows?

This thread had gone in the direction of "doing IR training makes you
a better pilot" and in a different breath says "statistically it puts you in
more danger" (disputed by "so why are insurance rates lower?").

I don't know if I had a question in all that. Lost my train of thought
now! Must be lunchtime.

Paul

[Dudley Henriques]

"Paul Sengupta" > wrote in message
...
> "Dudley Henriques" > wrote in message
> ink.net...
>> The issue is simply that 1. Instrument training increases even
>> general
>> VFR pilot skills and as such is worthy of the effort in attaining
>> that
>> training.
>
> As I understood it, Jay had done most of the training required for
> an IR but had not completed it.
>
> I can see that the claim that the training makes you a better and
> more accurate pilot would be true in the case of most VFR-only
> pilots, but what about if you're as accurate already? Do you need
> to take the IR course/tests if you fly pretty much this way anyway?
>
> I suppose the question I'm asking is apart from being able to
> legally fly in cloud and learning how to do instrument approaches,
> how does doing an instrument course teach you to be a better
> pilot?
>
> Paul (IMC rated)

You're kidding....right ?

Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Jay Honeck]

> I can see that the claim that the training makes you a better and
> more accurate pilot would be true in the case of most VFR-only
> pilots, but what about if you're as accurate already? Do you need
> to take the IR course/tests if you fly pretty much this way anyway?

Because I have an unusual, 2-pilot perspective, I can attest to the
effectiveness of the instrument training when it comes to instilling
precision. In fact, the one really valuable thing I took away from my
training was added precision, and -- as our total flying time has grown --
this is the one area that still clearly separates me from Mary, who started
flying several years after I got my ticket.

Mary, who has not done any instrument training, has a tendency to wander off
her assigned (or preferred) altitude, and has a more difficult time trimming
the plane. Having spent a bunch more hours under the hood, necessarily
flying to a higher degree of precision, I find that I am more precise on
both altitude and heading, and trimming is a no-brainer. (For reference,
she has around 470 hours, and I have around 900 hours.)

Does this make me a "better" pilot, in some measurable way? I suppose. Am
I safer than Mary because of it? I don't think so.
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Mike Rapoport]

"Larry Dighera" > wrote in message
...
> On Wed, 22 Sep 2004 04:01:36 GMT, "Mike Rapoport"
> > wrote in
> t>::
>
>>I wish that I had unlimited time! I have a job, a marrage, two six year
>>old
>>boys, three dogs, ten acres of meadow that needs mowing. Soon the North
>>Idaho winter will start and 1600' of driveway will need snowblowin'...I
>>think I'll stop now, this is getting depressing.
>
> At some point one's possessions begin to own their owner.

My cat doesn't like being called a "Possession".

Mike
MU-2

[Newps]

kage wrote:
> "Newps" > wrote in message
> ...
>
>>
>>The stats say an instrument rated pilot is much more likely to take up
>>farming by scud running than a VFR only pilot.
>>
>
>
> If that were true the insurance people would stop giving discounts to
> instrument rated pilots.

It is true, as per AOPA, and insurance companies don't blindly give
discounts just because you have the rating. Get the rating with 1000
hours, most in the same plane like a 182 that you own and there will be
no discount.

[Newps]

Paul Sengupta wrote:

> "Dudley Henriques" > wrote in message
> ink.net...
>
>>The issue is simply that 1. Instrument training increases even general
>>VFR pilot skills and as such is worthy of the effort in attaining that
>>training.
>
>
> As I understood it, Jay had done most of the training required for
> an IR but had not completed it.
>
> I can see that the claim that the training makes you a better and
> more accurate pilot would be true in the case of most VFR-only
> pilots, but what about if you're as accurate already? Do you need
> to take the IR course/tests if you fly pretty much this way anyway?
>
> I suppose the question I'm asking is apart from being able to
> legally fly in cloud and learning how to do instrument approaches,
> how does doing an instrument course teach you to be a better
> pilot?

It's a myth.

[Newps]

Mike Rapoport wrote:

> "Larry Dighera" > wrote in message
> ...
>
>>On Wed, 22 Sep 2004 04:01:36 GMT, "Mike Rapoport"
> wrote in
t>::
>>
>>
>>>I wish that I had unlimited time! I have a job, a marrage, two six year
>>>old
>>>boys, three dogs, ten acres of meadow that needs mowing. Soon the North
>>>Idaho winter will start and 1600' of driveway will need snowblowin'...I
>>>think I'll stop now, this is getting depressing.
>>
>>At some point one's possessions begin to own their owner.
>
>
> My cat doesn't like being called a "Possession".

Actually your cat owns everything and is worried about how all this work
is going to get done.

[Mike Rapoport]

"Newps" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> Mike Rapoport wrote:
>
>> "Larry Dighera" > wrote in message
>> ...
>>
>>>On Wed, 22 Sep 2004 04:01:36 GMT, "Mike Rapoport"
> wrote in
t>::
>>>
>>>
>>>>I wish that I had unlimited time! I have a job, a marrage, two six year
>>>>old
>>>>boys, three dogs, ten acres of meadow that needs mowing. Soon the North
>>>>Idaho winter will start and 1600' of driveway will need snowblowin'...I
>>>>think I'll stop now, this is getting depressing.
>>>
>>>At some point one's possessions begin to own their owner.
>>
>>
>> My cat doesn't like being called a "Possession".
>
> Actually your cat owns everything and is worried about how all this work
> is going to get done.
>

Clearly, he is in charge. Last night I got up at 2am to let him out. I got
up again at 5:30am to let him in. I am now working while he is snoring away
on the bed. When I am done working to buy his food, I will go out and mow
his hunting grounds. It is amazing that something so small can get away
with being so demanding and arrogant.

Mike
MU-2

[Paul Sengupta]

"Dudley Henriques" > wrote in message
link.net...
> > I can see that the claim that the training makes you a better and
> > more accurate pilot would be true in the case of most VFR-only
> > pilots, but what about if you're as accurate already?
> > I suppose the question I'm asking is ...
> > how does doing an instrument course teach you to be a better
> > pilot?

> You're kidding....right ?

Well, I'm not saying that it doesn't...but...from what people say, it
makes one a more accurate and precise pilot. But...what if you were
trained to be so from day one. I'm not saying I normally bumble
around the local patch flying accurate headings and alititudes, but I
was taught from day one to fly absolutely precise altitudes and
headings. Any deviation in so much as 20ft/5 degrees would have
my instructor shouting at me...and this was in Florida thermals. So if
someone is taught this way from day one, what "extra" does instrument
training give you in respect to being a better pilot?

Paul

[Dudley Henriques]

"Newps" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> Paul Sengupta wrote:
>
>> "Dudley Henriques" > wrote in message
>> ink.net...
>>
>>>The issue is simply that 1. Instrument training increases even
>>>general
>>>VFR pilot skills and as such is worthy of the effort in attaining
>>>that
>>>training.
>>
>>
>> As I understood it, Jay had done most of the training required for
>> an IR but had not completed it.
>>
>> I can see that the claim that the training makes you a better and
>> more accurate pilot would be true in the case of most VFR-only
>> pilots, but what about if you're as accurate already? Do you need
>> to take the IR course/tests if you fly pretty much this way anyway?
>>
>> I suppose the question I'm asking is apart from being able to
>> legally fly in cloud and learning how to do instrument approaches,
>> how does doing an instrument course teach you to be a better
>> pilot?
>
> It's a myth.

It's definitely NOT a myth, and the answer has nothing to do with
instrument flying per se, which seems to be the direction of all your
posts and statistics about instrumented rated pilots and accidents.
The answer has EVERYTHING to do with the fact that ANY concentrated
ongoing training regimen for a pilot, be it instrument, aerobatics, or
anything else that places the pilot into ongoing training, will
absolutely make the pilot in such a training regimen a better all around
pilot.
It is common knowledge in the instruction community that instrument
training will sharpen basic piloting skills as a collateral, regardless
of some AOPA stat that states only one data point for an overall
statistic needed to deal with this issue in context. In other words, the
AOPA stat about instrument rated pilots having a higher percentage in
the IMC scenario doesn't even come close to making the case that
concentrated ongoing instrument training or any other kind of additional
training is a negative for producing a better basic pilot. The stat you
are using just deals with a single isolated scenario. The case for
instrument training making a better all around basic pilot would require
a much broader data base.
Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Dudley Henriques]

"Mike Rapoport" > wrote in message
ink.net...
>
> "Newps" > wrote in message
> ...
>>
>>
>> Mike Rapoport wrote:
>>
>>> "Larry Dighera" > wrote in message
>>> ...
>>>
>>>>On Wed, 22 Sep 2004 04:01:36 GMT, "Mike Rapoport"
> wrote in
t>::
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>>I wish that I had unlimited time! I have a job, a marrage, two six
>>>>>year old
>>>>>boys, three dogs, ten acres of meadow that needs mowing. Soon the
>>>>>North
>>>>>Idaho winter will start and 1600' of driveway will need
>>>>>snowblowin'...I
>>>>>think I'll stop now, this is getting depressing.
>>>>
>>>>At some point one's possessions begin to own their owner.
>>>
>>>
>>> My cat doesn't like being called a "Possession".
>>
>> Actually your cat owns everything and is worried about how all this
>> work is going to get done.
>>
>
> Clearly, he is in charge. Last night I got up at 2am to let him out.
> I got up again at 5:30am to let him in. I am now working while he is
> snoring away on the bed. When I am done working to buy his food, I
> will go out and mow his hunting grounds. It is amazing that something
> so small can get away with being so demanding and arrogant.
>
> Mike
> MU-2

"Shishhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"...............he'll hear you.
:-))

Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Dudley Henriques]

"Paul Sengupta" > wrote in message
...
> "Dudley Henriques" > wrote in message
> link.net...
>> > I can see that the claim that the training makes you a better and
>> > more accurate pilot would be true in the case of most VFR-only
>> > pilots, but what about if you're as accurate already?
>> > I suppose the question I'm asking is ...
>> > how does doing an instrument course teach you to be a better
>> > pilot?
>
>> You're kidding....right ?
>
> Well, I'm not saying that it doesn't...but...from what people say, it
> makes one a more accurate and precise pilot. But...what if you were
> trained to be so from day one. I'm not saying I normally bumble
> around the local patch flying accurate headings and alititudes, but I
> was taught from day one to fly absolutely precise altitudes and
> headings. Any deviation in so much as 20ft/5 degrees would have
> my instructor shouting at me...and this was in Florida thermals. So if
> someone is taught this way from day one, what "extra" does instrument
> training give you in respect to being a better pilot?
>
> Paul

I see what you're saying now, and it's a viable question.

The context of this issue as I opened the issue (increase of basic
piloting skills ) shouldn't be concentrated on the instrument side of
the equation. It should be directed more toward the benefits derived
from an ongoing concentrated training regimen that results in training
exposure and more importantly and specifically, residual benefit from
exposure and practice.
For example; after a concentrated period of instrument training, you
should naturally develop a better sense and execution for your basic
piloting skills. This is a residual effect of such training.
To address your question specifically, let me direct my answer to the
Thunderbird ADS training program; something of which I'm fairly
familiar.
When a pilot joins the Thunderbirds, he's already completely familiar
with close formation work......and I mean completely. But there's a
level above completely that deals directly with the level required for
formation aerobatics in the Thunderbird context.
The result if this is that this pilot, already VERY good at formation
work in type, has to literally be weaned into the program through an
extremely demanding and escalating schedule of formation work that
ultimately results in that pilot being able to perform at an even higher
level than he could before this training.
So in this one scenario, we have taken a pilot coming from an extremely
demanding background; just as your example; and placed that pilot into a
highly concentrated regimen of specialized formation training that has
resulted in his being able to function in the Thunderbird environment.
What might not be quite as visible in this example is the fact that in
order to perform at this new level, the pilot's BASIC FLYING SKILLS have
had to increase to handle the additional workload. Result.........he's a
BETTER PILOT!!!! :-))
I realize this is an extreme example, but believe me, it works the same
way for a good GA pilot entering into an instrument or an aerobatic
program. Coming off the back side of such training, that GA pilot will
have better basic flying skills.
Now, whether or not he will have the good judgment to go along with
those skills and avoid being one of AOPA's statistics is another matter
entirely!! :-))
Hope this helps a bit.
Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Montblack]

("Mike Rapoport" wrote)

>>>Soon the North Idaho winter will start and 1600' of driveway will need
snowblowin'...I think I'll stop now, this is getting depressing.

> > At some point one's possessions begin to own their owner.

> My cat doesn't like being called a "Possession".


If your cat's name is D9, I think we can label plowin' the driveway a non-issue
<g>.

Montblack

[G.R. Patterson III]

Mike Rapoport wrote:
>
> It is amazing that something so small can get away
> with being so demanding and arrogant.

We live with six of these little aliens. When we get home from an outing, one of them
is always in the window serving as lookout. We believe they're working on the Feline
Opposable Thumb Project (FOTP). If they ever succeed at this, they won't need us
human can openers anymore and we'll be history. If they'd ever learn to cooperate
better, we'd probably be in trouble, but our specimens aren't exactly what one would
call "team players".

George Patterson
If a man gets into a fight 3,000 miles away from home, he *had* to have
been looking for it.

[Jay Beckman]

"G.R. Patterson III" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> Mike Rapoport wrote:
>>
>> It is amazing that something so small can get away
>> with being so demanding and arrogant.
>
> We live with six of these little aliens. When we get home from an outing,
> one of them
> is always in the window serving as lookout. We believe they're working on
> the Feline
> Opposable Thumb Project (FOTP). If they ever succeed at this, they won't
> need us
> human can openers anymore and we'll be history. If they'd ever learn to
> cooperate
> better, we'd probably be in trouble, but our specimens aren't exactly what
> one would
> call "team players".
>
> George Patterson
> If a man gets into a fight 3,000 miles away from home, he *had* to
> have
> been looking for it.

Geez George...Put up a warning before you post something like this!!!

Damn near ruined a perfectly good keyboard with iced tea.

We sold ourselves to two kittens from the AZ Humane Society about 6 months
ago and, well...what everyone else said. It's so true.

But there is something to the idea of unconditional love (ie...resting up to
plot some more.)

Jay Beckman
Student Pilot - KCHD
(Owned by a Bombay and a Korat)

[Jay Honeck]

> Clearly, he is in charge. Last night I got up at 2am to let him out. I
got
> up again at 5:30am to let him in. I am now working while he is snoring
away
> on the bed. When I am done working to buy his food, I will go out and mow
> his hunting grounds. It is amazing that something so small can get away
> with being so demanding and arrogant.

Which is why, as I've said all along: The only good cat is a tennis
racquet.

;-)
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[Jay Honeck]

> I see what you're saying now, and it's a viable question.

<Big Snip>

I think it's safe to say that we all agree on this one point:

More training = Higher proficiency.
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

[MLenoch]

>From: "Dudley Henriques"

>To address your question specifically, let me direct my answer to the
>Thunderbird ADS training program; something of which I'm fairly
>familiar

Sidebar: Do you know Gen. Wood?
Thx,
VL

[Dudley Henriques]

"MLenoch" > wrote in message
...
> >From: "Dudley Henriques"
>
>>To address your question specifically, let me direct my answer to the
>>Thunderbird ADS training program; something of which I'm fairly
>>familiar
>
> Sidebar: Do you know Gen. Wood?
> Thx,
> VL

Nope. Bill Creech at Tac in 82 was the last TB associated General for me
personally.
Dudley

[Jay Masino]

Jay Honeck > wrote:
> Which is why, as I've said all along: The only good cat is a tennis
> racquet.
> ;-)

I often say the same thing about children :)



--
__!__
Jay and Teresa Masino ___(_)___
http://www2.ari.net/jmasino ! ! !
http://www.oceancityairport.com
http://www.oc-adolfos.com

[Bob Fry]

"Mike Rapoport" > writes:

> It is amazing that something so small can get away
> with being so demanding and arrogant.

Like Napolean. Or another well-known current "leader".

[Javier Henderson]

"Jay Honeck" > writes:

> > Clearly, he is in charge. Last night I got up at 2am to let him out. I
> got
> > up again at 5:30am to let him in. I am now working while he is snoring
> away
> > on the bed. When I am done working to buy his food, I will go out and mow
> > his hunting grounds. It is amazing that something so small can get away
> > with being so demanding and arrogant.
>
> Which is why, as I've said all along: The only good cat is a tennis
> racquet.

Or a violin, perhaps?

-jav

[Paul Sengupta]

"Dudley Henriques" > wrote in message
link.net...
> The context of this issue as I opened the issue (increase of basic
> piloting skills ) shouldn't be concentrated on the instrument side of
> the equation. It should be directed more toward the benefits derived
> from an ongoing concentrated training regimen that results in training
> exposure and more importantly and specifically, residual benefit from
> exposure and practice.
> For example; after a concentrated period of instrument training, you
> should naturally develop a better sense and execution for your basic
> piloting skills. This is a residual effect of such training.

<much snipped>

> Hope this helps a bit.

Yes, thanks for all that. I don't know, maybe it's just me. Looking at
this from a personal perspective, I suppose that since I did my IMC
rating (UK mini-IR) only a year after doing my PPL, I can't really
remember what my flying was like before I started the intrument training.
I can remember not feeling so different about my VFR flying at the
time, though I had added all the instrument strings to my bow.

A similar thing happened recently. I underwent a formation flying
course leading to taking part in an 18-ship formation. I was told that
the formation flying would sharpen up my flying skills and make me
a more precise pilot. But I'm not. Or at least I don't think I am. I fly
along exactly as I did before. I have a bit of a warm glow that I've
added yet another string to my bow, but my "normal" flying doesn't
feel any different. Maybe it's just the way I feel.

I've always wanted to do some basic aerobatics so that I could
sharpen up my handling skills and learn more about the handling of
my plane. I haven't yet, but I've been exploring the edges of the
envelope in other ways (admittedly some of it with an instructor!).
I'll have to wait until I've taken a bit of aerobatics training until I
pass judgement on this one, though I suspect it will do more than the
things mentioned above.

Maybe it's all part of the general experience I've been gaining since
obtaining my PPL. Every flight I do I feel I learn something from...
even if it's something I knew before but have forgotten that I knew.
I feel that the experience gained in one regime of flight (say VFR
cross country) is more valuable to that regime than experience
gained in some other regime.

Maybe as you say, everything just adds a bit to that knowledge and
experience bank, with any sort of intense training paying in at a
greater rate.

This thread has made me think!

Regards,
Paul

[Dudley Henriques]

"Paul Sengupta" > wrote in message
...

> This thread has made me think!

Thinking is the road to becoming a better pilot. You think about what
you will do....you do it..........you think about what you did......you
think about the results of what you did.......then you assess, self
evaluate, and adjust if necessary.
It's a constant process that never ends for those of us who actually do
become better pilots. Unfortunately, there are some of us who don't self
evaluate in this manner. Although they do become better through practice
and training alone, they're not nearly as better pilots as they could
have been had they coupled that added training and experience with the
process of self evaluation I'm speaking about here.
Any concentrated continuous training process will make you better at
what you're doing, but the REALLY good pilots, the ones who make it to
perform at levels "above the rest" so to speak, are those pilots who are
constantly learning........practicing........self evaluating......and
"thinking" about how to be a better at what they're doing!
Dudley Henriques
International Fighter Pilots Fellowship
Flight Instructor/Aerobatics/Retired

[Peter R.]

john smith wrote:

> You might want to consider pressure system flying if the alignments are
> close to your eventual destination.

Could you elaborate on this? I think I know what you mean, but this is
the first time I read of this concept.

--
Peter