Eastern Sierra Adventure

Crowley Lake (near Mammoth)

One of the reasons that I finally got my pilot's license and became interested in flying later in life is my uncle. He moved up to rural northern Nevada a few years ago and built a hangar on a private airstrip in Smith Valley. The trip up the Owens Valley with the dramatic eastern escarpment of the Sierra Nevada Mountains on one side and the almost equally impressive White Mountains on the other side has always been one of my favorite driving routes and the thought of flying it was a dangling carrot during my flight training.

On Saturday, March 5th, I finally made the journey. General flight plan was to be Whiteman (KWHP - home base for 13HK) over the hills to Mohave Air & Space Port, along the southern reaches of the Sierras to Inyokern, then north following US-395 to Bishop. That should be about 2 hours of flight time; stop in Bishop for gas and (ahem) "pilot needs" and then off again following US-395 over Mammoth, Mono Lake and Bridgeport then following the Walker River down into Smith Valley; about an hour from Bishop.

I had been checking the weather and working out the route and distances for the prior week. While technically oxygen isn't required except above 12,500 ft and I wasn't anticipating going that high, I still secured an O2 set up just in case. On Saturday, the sky was clear and away I went. The outbound trip went pretty much as planned, cruise altitude of 5,500 ft to Inyokern then 6,500 ft with a stop at Bishop.

Very interesting airport at KBIH with three long runways (apparently it was a bomber flight training base during WWII) and very little traffic. If you're passing through here I highly recommend Bishop; cheap fuel, cozy pilot's lounge and a very good Thai (of all things) restaurant on the field. With full fuel tanks and empty bladder, it was time to go. I decided to use the O2 since I would be fairly high and figured it was better to have it and not need it than the other way around. Off I went on Runway 34 straight out and heading for Mammoth. Sky clear, slight northerly wind and standard temperature and pressure (15 deg C / 29.92) and the old Cardinal launched off at 1000 ft/min. The flight was my first in or really anywhere near mountains and the sights were awe inspiring. Crowley Lake appeared to be frozen over and Mammoth and vicinity was blanketed in snow. There was steam rising from Hot Creek to mark its path through the white landscape. There was a little bumpiness between Mammoth and Mono Lake which spooked me a little but realistically it was just a light chop or mild turbulence. I hit my highest altitude so far as a pilot at 11,500 ft between Mono and Bridgeport. I've been to Mono Lake several times by car, but never before by plane - it is spectacular from the air and probably the best routing landmark I've ever had occasion to use! After that it was fairly routine down the Walker River into Smith Valley and Farias Wheel airpark (NV33).

Mono Lake

Sunday's weather was forecast to worsen with lowering ceilings, possible rain/snow/ice, and increasing winds coming down from the northwest. It showed a window of opportunity on the east side of the Sierras and west of central Nevada - basically two very high mountain ranges on either side with relatively clear weather between. I decided to grab this opening early Sunday morning and head south, away from the weather, and get back to LA.

With fresh reports confirming the previous night's forecast, I prepped the Cardinal and took off about 30 minutes after sunrise under overcast skies with darker and lower portions coming in quickly from the north. Ceilings (or at least bases in the local area) were just touching the 9000 ft mountain on one side of the valley. I started heading back basically the same way I came in with the first checkpoint at Bridgeport (O57). If I couldn't make Bridgeport, I would swing back and wait at Smith Valley. The bases were holding at 8000 to 9000 along that 50 mile stretch but the terrain was definitely coming up. While Bridgeport sits at 6,498 there is a ridge at about 8000 along my line of flight with a pass that the highway follows; sticking in the pass made it better but just barely. As I made the turn towards the pass I could see Bridgeport Lake on the other side and was sure I could make it. I overflew O57 at about 1000AGL and turned towards Mono Lake. While Mono Lake sits at roughly the same altitude as Bridgeport, there is a ridge between them topping in places at 8500 ft or about 1000 ft above my present altitude (not good) and with the overcast base varying from 8000 to 9000 this was cutting it a bit tight. There was plenty of lateral room under the overcast for a 180 degree turn, if needed, so I tucked in just above US-395 and crossed the ridgeline with about 500 ft to spare above and below. This was probably one of the stupidest things I have done as a pilot. I had narrowed things down to only one option and if some equally stupid guy was coming the other way it could have been a disaster.

Sierra Nevada Mountains and Mono Lake Basin

As the rugged and snow covered terrain descended to Mono, the clouds also seem to lift a bit and the sun could be seen. I increased altitude to 8500 and continued to follow US-395 towards KMMH. I was thinking that everything was fine from this point, when the first hint of the later turbulence I would experience that day rocked me. I don't know if this was the infamous "mountain wave" or just some clear air turbulence and realistically it was probably what any experienced flyer would term light chop, but it definitely knocked the complacency right out of me. I was bucking about pretty hard near Mammoth and Crowley and decided that with a lightly loaded plane I better be at VA and closer to the deck, so I throttled back, pitched for 90kt and 7500 ft. I could handle it but the bouncing wasn’t at all comfortable and I was really glad to pop out above Bishop in a few minutes. The ATIS was reporting calm winds and clear at Bishop and as I approached Runway 34 on final it was like the plane was on rails to the numbers. It was my best landing ever with final at 75 MPH, flaps at 30 degrees, and perfectly aligned. Flared out about 2 ft above the asphalt and kissed the runway without a sound. Between this perfect landing and squeezing through the weather and terrain earlier, it bred overconfidence. It was with more than a little swagger that I pulled up to the fuel pumps and cockily filled the tanks for the next leg.
The Owens Valley is broad and slopes gently down from 4000 ft near Bishop to 2000 ft at Inyokern where it broadens out in the upper Mojave Desert. The ceilings were now reported at 12,000 ft and as I gently lifted off from Bishop I figured this was going to be a milk run all the way to LA – boy, was I wrong! Everything was like glass near Bishop and I climbed up to 7500 ft with that trusty Lycoming just purring along. About 50 miles south at Independence I got my first wake-up call; just a little chop and wind direction change. I tightened my seat belt and told myself that this was old hat after what I had been through an hour or so back. It got rougher as I reached Lone Pine and I was considering that maybe discretion being the better part of valor, I should sit it out at Lone Pine. But as I turned towards O26, I realized that the wind was almost exactly at 90 degrees to the paved 16/34 runway and the dirt from 13/31 (and surrounding desert) was blowing across it and 16/34 at about 30kts or more. Crosswind landings are one thing, but crosswinds beyond demonstrated ability into a blinding brown cloud are another; I turned towards Inyokern .

Owens Valley and White Mountains

Now it really rocked. I was jockeying to keep her at 90kt and holding wings level. I was fully crabbed one direction and then – wham - the wind shifted 90+ degrees in another. At one point I was climbing at over 1000 ft per minute and a few seconds later descending at the same rate; my VSI was useless. From rapid glances occasionally at my GPS, my ground speed varied from 60kts to 120kts. I was trying to hold 7500 ft but it was worse at that altitude. I also didn’t want to get pushed down onto the deck by getting caught too low. After two jolts that smacked my head against the roof despite the tightened belts and tossed everything in the cabin from the baggage area to front seat and then back again, I decided that I would see if there really was such a phenomenon as ground friction or anything to lessen this barrage. At worst, I figured that I had a nice flat dry (mostly) lakebed nearby and could put her down there if needed. In fact, a little later, I heard Joshua Approach talking with a pilot that was doing just that. At about 1500 ft AGL, it lessened to just terrible instead of terrifying. I had enough time to shift attention from exclusively trying to maintain control to other aspects. My palms were sweating so much that I was swapping off hands on the yoke to wipe them on my shirt almost continuously; I noticed that my breathing was rapid and that one of the earcups on my headset wasn’t over my ear but on my cheek – I hadn’t even noticed the difference in sound before because I was so focused.
That last stretch between Lone Pine and Inyokern was the worst. It wasn’t nearly as bad at Inyokern as a few miles before at Little Lake where the valley tightened up a little but it was still rattling my teeth and the airframe pretty well. I actually started laughing when I thought to myself that the turbulence that I thought wasn’t too bad at Inyokern would still easily have qualified as the worst I had been in, prior to this day. As I turned more westerly at Inyokern towards Mohave (KMHV), the damned wind shifted and we were back in the washing machine tumble cycle. I was now at about 1000 ft AGL and working the yoke, throttle, prop like a manic pianist. Finally it eased into a strong, but steady crosswind just past Mohave. The closer I came to LA, the better it was and when I finally put her down on Runway 12 at Whiteman with snarling Ed, the tower controller, chewing someone else out for a change, I couldn’t believe the difference 50 miles nearer the Sierras could be from here.
Lessons Learned:
1. Respect those big damned mountains and the very localized wind conditions
2. Don’t have anything loose in the cockpit; tie it down and keep it soft
3. Keep those seatbelts on and tight at all times
4. Don’t get cocky – you aren’t nearly as good and/or lucky as you think
5. Keep tiedown gear (including pegs for soft ground) with you. If I had landed off airport, the plane would probably have blown over or away.
6. Gain a better understanding of your throttle and prop (and mixture) controls. At various points I wasn’t sure whether to adjust which one as the situation was rapidly changing.