I've flown into Pismo once or twice. Or eight times. It's actually my third-most visited airport, after Santa Barbara and Santa Ynez. So more than anything that isn't my home base or the airport just over the hill.
Of course most of the time when I go, it's the first time for someone in the plane. In this case, the someones making their first trip to L52 were Jason and Nathan, two of my friends from back at Softshare.
I hadn't seen them in a while due to the broken ankle followed by the Virginia trip but when I got back into town we ran into each other and decided to make it happen. To my enjoyment, we actually followed through!
The weather was nice, the pax brought their cameras and we set out for some sky, some beach and some Rock and Roll Diner. All was right in the world.
Climb-out over UCSB and Campus Point
Dune buggies south of Pismo
Nathan rocking the nautical shirt on an aeronautical adventure.
Hour 102 was one of my best and worst flights yet. I'd been recently checked out to fly to Catalina and had a 182 filled with gas and passengers. Isaac from my rugby team, his girlfriend Rochelle, and Aaron a friend of my house mate's.
Rather than going down through LA and crossing the channel from Torrance to Catalina, I opted to fly along the coast and then turn direct for the island around Point Mugu. This is the route used by a few of the folks at my FBO.
The advantages are that it's a shorter route, which is quicker and cheaper. It also avoids the LA airspace which can be pretty cluttered at times.
The main disadvantage is that the distance overwater is longer, which adds a bit to the risk in a single-engine plane. Another disadvantage is that the LA route can be fun for passengers as it goes over interesting things like Malibu and LAX.
Either way, we approached the island and flew around the back side just to see the sights before coming in to land.
Approaching the island from Pt Mugu
Twin Harbors
After checking out the northwest corner of the island, I entered the pattern to land at Catalina Airport. After turning final, I found that I'd was a quite a bit past the runway center line. I opted to reject the un-stabilized approach. Rather than executing a straight go-around, I opted to continue around the northeast side of the island to view Avalon before setting up to land again.
Avalon
I circled around the southeast side and re-established myself on downwind. This time I judged the distance much more cleanly and the picture on final looked a lot better.
This runway is on top of a cliff. It's famous for optical illusions (which certainly affected my first approach) and downdrafts. The downdrafts occur as wind coming down the runway drops downward over the cliff edge. Planes land into the wind, so that means crossing the downdraft area.
I was worried about the downdrafts, so I carried a bit of altitude and power until getting close to the approach end of the runway. Once I felt like I had the "runway made" (that is, I felt that I could glide in), I pulled power and added flaps in order to take out the excess altitude and speed before landing.
Too soon. A few seconds after I put in flaps, I got caught in a substantial downdraft. Even though I had been trying to avoid it, I got into the worst situation for a pilot on landing - I was low and slow.
The response is to go around - apply full power and climb out. In this case, I was in danger of being dropped into the ground, so time was of the essence. With the flaps in, the plane was VERY slow and close to stall.
I wanted to pull up and turn in order to avoid terrain, but both of those things are dangerous to do when a plane is close to a stall. Pulling up slows you down and could stall the plane causing it to fall. Turning increases the stall speed of the plane and can cause not just a stall but also a spin.
All those risks aside, the go-around was successful. I turned away from terrain, descended down the mountain, and circled back for a THIRD approach. This time I applied the lessons from the first two attempts. I lined up properly and carried power and altitude far further into the approach. I landed a bit long, but with more than enough time to stop the plane and turn off to the restaurant.
I was pretty happy to be on the ground. There are those moments in life where you feel a combination of pride and shame that you had just enough skill to get yourself out of a situation that you should have had enough skill not to get yourself into in the first place. This was one of those.
I was glad that I handled the situation properly, but the fact that I was in the situation in the first place has lead me to revise how I approach landings - especially on unfamiliar fields. This was my second landing at Catalina ever and my first from this end (the downdrafts are worse from this direction). I've flown in to several new airports since then and I've found that my recent studies have made things far smoother.
They say that you start with a full bucket of luck and an empty bucket of experience. Your task is to fill the experience bucket before you empty the luck bucket. This flight was definitely a transfer from one to the other.
Sorry for the long recap. There's definitely an impulse to avoid sharing potentially embarrassing stories such as this, but I'm writing these "hour" posts not just for my loyal audience but also for myself to read as I progress through my life as a pilot.
Airport in the Sky
For the return flight, we opted to take the LA route for sightseeing purposes. I think I'll probably go this way in the future - it's not much longer, it's fun for the passengers, it's safer, and I really don't mind the extra radio and nav work. It's good practice and good fun.
Long Beach on the return flight
The return flight was an uneventful one, chasing the setting sun westward toward Santa Barbara. We touched down just before sundown and closed the books on another MrPinto Adventure.
As a pilot and ex-Virginian, I found myself in Virginia in the fall. Which of course means - Shenandoah Valley color viewing!
Now Virginia is nowhere near as pilot-friendly as SoCal. As we've discussed before, it's a free country, but some places are a bit less free than others. I was staying in the no-fly zone and it was quite the drive to even get to the you-can-fly-but-it's-complicated zone. So I needed more time free to go up - the time for driving there and back as well as the usual preflight and time for the actual trip.
Beyond that there are also weather issues. Virginia gets more rain and is much colder in the fall and winter. Leesburg, my chosen airport away from home, is also prone to high winds. Those things all impact the safety and comfortability of flying.
So actually getting out to the Shenandoah Valley took a lot of time and effort and cancelations. For hour 87, we finally made it. Joining me were my trusty first officer Melch and her cousin, Mari.
The trip went smoothly with good weather and good visibility (a bit of haze notwithstanding). We had a good time following the river, pointing out airports along the way, and setting up for the small rural runway at Luray.
I started my run-up a bit close to the main building at the airport on departure, prompting a cranky response from the airport personnel, but other than that the flight was well-executed.
I've included a few photos here, but I have a small album and a large one on Flickr if you're interested.
It's an experience, taking your parents flying. These guys knew you when you couldn't hold your head upright without assistance. They've probably come to terms by now with the fact that you can walk without their help. They probably, deep down, have yet to concede that you might be able to operate a car safely.
Operating an aircraft within congested and restricted airspace? That's a bit of a leap.
We had actually booked a 172 for a cross-country flight to Luray Caverns, but plane availability and scheduling with my sister and parents kept time a bit short. So we opted to do a shorter flight - to and from Manassas.
I cannot fit both of my parents, my sister and nephew into a 172 and have enough fuel for pattern work much less a cross-country with reserve, so we opted to split the rides up. I'd take my mother from Leesburg to Manassas and then we'd trade off for my father, sister and nephew.
This is a "free country," but some places are freer than others. The area around Leesburg and Manassas is less free than most places. As a result, the route wasn't exactly direct. We departed Leesburg heading away from Manassas in order to exit the SFRA and get ourselves far enough for Dulles that the class B airspace was high enough that we could climb to a safe VFR altitude.
From there we skirted the SFRA for a while before activating a flight plan from one of the TSA-designated "gates" in to Manassas. I'd activated SFRA flight plans for pattern work, but this was my first gate entry. Everything went smoothly - I activated from the air, received a clearance into the SFRA and actually got cleared direct without too much trouble.
From there it was just a normal matter of finding and landing at a new airport, and then meeting up with my new passengers.
Heading in to HEF to pick up my new passengers
Once we'd made the switch we departed on the return leg to JYO. The procedure was the same thing in reverse - flight plan from HEF to the gate, then 1200-VFR around the SFRA, below the Dulles Bravo and in to JYO.
On the way back I gave my father a chance to take the controls. I figured he taught me how to drive so I might as well return the favor!
Good times were had by all and we made a nice sunset landing at Leesburg. I wish we could have found the time and weather to go for a bit of a longer or more scenic trip, but it was a blessing to be able to take my family out at all.
My friends from high school didn't exactly stay in town after graduation. We spread to the winds, going to different places for undergrad, and for most of us, graduate school. At this point just about everybody has or is about to have a master's or a PhD. Except for me. I always was the slacker of our crew.
It's great that everyone has found success academically and/or professionally, but that does mean that we don't see each other that often. Five of us have moved to California, but two are in the bay area, one in Pasadena, and myself and Melch in Santa Barbara. We don't exactly get together every weekend.
There's one in New Mexico, one in DC, one in Ohio and one in Canada. There are a few more that I have to admit to not even knowing current state of residence.
For Christmas though, a bunch of folks were back in town. So we agreed to meet up on the 26th and put together a gingerbread house.
Here's how that went down:
The final product looked something like this:
Looks livable to me
And then we ate it. Well, some of it. It turns out that our sugar tolerances aren't what they used to be. Mine especially. I had a few marshmallows and some of the sour gummis and I was pretty much done for the day. They say that drinking diet soda is supposed to condition you to want sweet things, but I just don't see it.
Maybe it just means I'm just not a kid anymore, but that doesn't mean I don't want to act like one or hang with the folks I used to hang with when I was one. I hope there are many more posts involving these guys in the coming year.
So there I was, sitting in the cockpit of a Cessna 172 on the ramp at KCHO, with the engine off. But I wanted the engine on. When the engine is on we could go flying, which would be good, but when the engine is on the heater works, which would be very good.
It was 28 degrees on the ramp and we'd just done pre-flight in the dark. We had needed oil and the cold and wind were enough that it actually hurt just to hold the dipstick.
The problem is, it's hard to start a small plane in the cold. It can be hard to start a car also, but modern cars have a bunch of gizmos that sense air temperature and stuff and mix fuel and air just right to get you going.
In this plane, there were no gizmos. Just me and some knobs. The knobs control the primer, throttle, mixture and ignition. Most combinations of those things result in the engine not starting. A few result in success and a few result in an engine fire. After about 10 minutes of the first set I moved into the second. The third I thankfully skipped altogether.
Honestly, it felt like the mission was complete the moment the tach came alive, but there was more to be done. We had to navigate home in the wind and the cold and the dark and land safely at Leesburg Executive - our home base away from home (real home is of course KSBA).
The flight back went okay. Winds aloft were pretty stiff but not too turbulent. I added a bit of time on to the trip by following the highways a bit more due to it being night time. During the day you can land on a field safely if the engine goes but at night roads might be your best bet. I added a bit more time on to the trip by going around some hills.
Dulles airspace lies over Leesburg so pilots are required to come in pretty low on their approach. That's okay during the day when you can see and avoid hills, but my altitude wasn't high enough to make me feel safe coming in so I went the long way around to keep ground clearance.
The night landing was actually surprisingly smooth. The wind was high at the surface but mostly down the runway. Surface temperature was 25 degrees. We made it home safe and sound and made for the warmth of the pilot's lounge.
Trips home don't happen without a trip out though, and the trip out was the day before. We had planned to take off around 9 but pushed the flight back about an hour in order to allow for frost to melt.
The destination was KCHO - Charolttesville. We were going to visit with Will and Erik, two college friends, and their spouses. I went to school in Charlottesville but had never been to the airport prior to landing there.
We didn't fly direct. We made diversions to overfly Lake Anna and Lake Monticello. The first as it was a childhood vacation destination for my family and the latter so we could fly over Erik's house. We also took some time to fly over the UVA grounds to take some photos of my college.
Lake Anna
UVA
The flight out was uneventful and fun, the visit was awesome, and the return trip was, well, an adventure. Hour 92 in the books. More photos can be found here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/elpintorino/sets/72157638101280803/
In yet another installment of our sub-series on unintended adventures, I just had my appendix removed. Perhaps spurned by so many jokes at the expense of its vestigial nature, it did not go down without a fight.
Honestly, this isn't really a very unique adventure. It's pretty went down the same for me as it does for most folks in the modern world. In fact, rather than reading my notes on the subject, perhaps you could just watch this informative documentary. I've linked in to the middle to save you time, but I'm sure the intelligent youtuber can find the entire three part series if he or she desires.
For those more into the written word, the adventure begins on Sunday. I went to Reston to play some ultimate, eat some chicken wings, and hang out watching football. Pretty normal day. Tried some crazy-spicy wing sauce at the restaurant, but only a bit and that's probably not what did the appendix in...
I felt fine during the game and for the most part during the football game, though I had a bit of a gassy, bloated feeling towards the end. Having just had a few beers and a bunch of wings, that wasn't THAT unusual. We watched the end of the game at my parents house and hung out for a bit before heading to ANOTHER pub, to watch ANOTHER game. You know, a pretty normal day.
By the time we got there I didn't feel great. Really gassy, didn't really want any food but got some bread and beer to hopefully fill up my stomach and push the gas out. Felt pretty darned miserable by the time we left, which was late because on the east coast they play football until like 12 in the am.
By the time I got home, I was solidly miserable. Went to bed around 1:30 or so and kept getting up to try and use the bathroom but the gas pressure wasn't going anywhere. It was hard to get comfortable in bed.
I expected some ab and back soreness - on Friday I'd gone to the gym and done a bunch of heavy deadlifts followed by a high intensity interval set of ab exercises. Second day after is a common time for Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness (DOMS, we're no strangers). My stomach was really bloated and muscle swelling is actually associated with an extreme condition called rhabdo, but I had none of the other telltale signs and rhabdo usually affects de-conditioned athletes who attempt strenuous workouts with insufficient hydration. I've been a regular at the gym and I hydrate well so I kind of wrote that out too.
By 3 or 3:30am, I was pretty much unable to get comfortable in any position whatsoever and I'd actually started vocalizing my breaths as the pressure down there was making breathing hard and painful. Melch figured that this was the point where it was time to seek medical attention and I agreed.
I'm not sure why, but as I was getting dressed to go, it dawned on me that it could be my appendix. I have no idea why I thought of that as a possibility, but I hit wikipedia on my phone while waiting for Melch to get ready to go and their list of symptoms was my list of symptoms. In the car I asked melch if the emergency care place we were going to had the capability to perform surgery. They didn't, she said, but they could transport me if needed. That'd do.
I was having so much fun that I was crest-fallen if we got a light red. We got a few lights red.
We did of course eventually get to the emergency room and I was pretty out of sorts, kinda mumbling my name and birth date and all of that jazz to the admissions orderly. A nurse took my vitals, commented on my low blood pressure and we waited for the doctor.
I had told the nurse what I had going on and he told the doctor who then asked the resident he had in tow for a diagnosis. The resident said "appendix?" The doctor turned to me and said, "yeah, you need your appendix removed." 30 second diagnosis for the win - gets you to pain killers more quickly!
Not THAT quickly though - I waited for an MRI first but it wasn't forthcoming so then I got an IV and finally some narcotics that made life a bit better. I actually usually dislike narcotics like percocet or vicodin, but the heavier morphine and friends work out just fine for me - loopy enough that I don't care about anything and just get super friendly and talkative.
Changing venues
Anyway, they moved me from the emergency room to another hospital where I chilled out in my room waiting for the operation to be scheduled. Then it was off to prep where a bunch of people tell you a bunch of things and ask you a bunch of questions and make you sign a bunch of things even though you're way too high to deal with any of that competently.
Hanging in my new quarters
Surgery was a laparoscopic affair which means it works with small incisions, lasers, computers, cameras and sorcery. Apparently all of that went well. Which didn't mean that I felt well, just better than before and without the time bomb organ.
I won't get into the details of laparo recovery for a padendix, you can look them up if you're interested. The highlights: they've pumped your insides full of CO2 and cut 3 holes in the middle of you (the otherwise entirely accurate video above suggests only one). The holes hurt and the CO2 creates discomfort.
I think the beard cover was Melch's idea... No idea if the doctors left it on.
The fix is apparently "walking," but you're tired and sore and high and attached to an iv thing that you have to wheel around with you. But a-walking we did go.
Melch accompanied me and I actually had visits on my evening strolls from both my parents and hers, followed by a painkiller-supported attempt to sleep.
The following day the nurses felt like it would be a good idea for me to get up early and eat and walk. I felt like it would be a good idea for me to sleep in. The nurses won.
I went in early Monday am and left on Tuesday evening. Tuesday daytime was a mostly boring affair with walking, eating and surfing the internet as highlights. Daytime TV sucks. Hospital wifi sucks. But dying of appendicitis sucks more...
Anyway, I'm back home now. Eating normally. GI tract functioning... but not normally, yet. The first few days back were really sore in the abs, that's starting to go away, but the wounds itch and the gas is still keeping me up at night. Hopefully that'll improve soon.
I also can't lift weights or engage in strenuous physical activity. Which, aside from sitting at my computer and drinking beer... is pretty much what I do. This too shall pass though. The restriction will soon be lifted and I'll be back to more intentional adventures...
