5.2 hours and I was so ready to be on the ground. I think this was my longest day yet on this trip (actually, ever). Lots of places on my body ached, and there were a few challenges, surprises, and, of course, some awesomeness.
My little C-85 was struggling to bring me into Big Bear Airport (L35) the day before, but the early morning air was nice and cool and I climbed out pretty well. Based on the advice of a local, I was going to takeoff to the east and could stay quite low and still get over the terrain until the bottom dropped out and I was in the clear. However, the plane was performing well and I decided it would be a shame not to double back and fly over the lake. It was lovely. I flew directly over the airport, coordinating with another fella who was coming in for landing, and then departed the area to the north.
Although I was just going to bypass Victorville (Southern California Logistics/KVCV), I saw all the planes parked on the tarmac and dediced I would fly just above the class D airspace to take a look. There were lots of Southwest 737s, Quantas A380s, 747s, and other planes. I was a couple hundred feet above their ceiling, so I didn't bother talking to their tower (although I'll sometimes let a tower know that I'm passing by, even if not in their airspace). After doing an orbit to get some shots off my wingtip camera, I turned out to the west to continue on my way.
Having been over the top of Victorville, I was probably 2,500 to 3,000 AGL. I was buzzing along minding my own business and enjoying the view out the window when, even through the active noise cancellation of my Bose A20s, I heard a "bang" just outside my door. I found the subsequent sensation quite displeasing.
Me: Uh, that, uh, sounded, not good at all.
I looked at the chart.
Me: 118.35.
The wing was still attached, so I knew the strut hadn't snapped off, although I couldn't see the left landing gear. That's no good. However, upon opening the window and looking straight down through it, I was able to observe my left wheel. I do like my wheels. So, then, what was that "bang" that I'd heard? I was quite interested in procuring an answer to that query. I did a sanity check of my plane. The engine was running okay, and the controls seemed to be doing their usual controlling, so at that point, I believed I'd be able to fly the plane to the runway and hopefully land without breaking stuff.
Upon tuning in Victorville tower, I heard some chatter. I verified I'd tuned in the correct frequency:
Me: Victorville, 118.35.
Me (transmitting): Victorville traffic [not perfect, I know], Luscombe 1-8-1-3-Kilo, uh, about a mile-and-a-half west of the south end of your field, here, south end of your runway, and I just heard a strange noise outside my airplane, and I'd like to come in for a landing please.
Victorville tower: [unintellible] tower, copy, Lus, uh, 1-8-1-3-Kilo [it's not uncommon for towers to be unfamiliar with the Luscombe], information Delta current, revised altimeter is three-zero-one-niner. Enter the right downwind for 1-7 for right base.
Me (transmitting): Right downwind for 1-7. Luscombe 1-8-1-3-Kilo.
Me: Alright, my wheel's still there, so I'm like, did I just lose my landing gear? Which would be bizarre.
[Other chatter on the radio.]
Tower: Luscombe 1-8-1-3-Kilo, do you require any further assistance?
Me (transmitting): Uh, I don't believe so, um, looks like me wheel's still attached there on the left side. The sound came from the left side, so I don't believe so at this time. We'll see after I'm on the ground.
Tower: Luscombe 1-8-1-3-Kilo, roger. We also have a Centurion, he's orbiting about 2 miles to the northeast of the field at three-thousand-five-hundred.
Long story short, I accepted the offer for the Centurion to come in and take a look at my belly. I flew due north for a few miles and he made two passes to take a look. I set the throttle at about 2,500 (i.e., pretty much full speed ahead) and he flew about as slow as he could. He reported that everything looked fine.
I then made a request to the tower to come in for landing. He cleared me to land, so I did a 180 and made a long final into 1-7. I breathed a sigh of relief to be on the ground. The military was apparently doing some testing or practice with a drone and I passed them on the first intersecting taxiway. I asked where I could park to take a look at my plane, and the tower suggested the next exit to the left, then just head back to the north end of the runway. I passed the drone in the other direction while two emergency vehicles trailed me. I pulled between taxiway lights and off to the edge of the taxiway, then shut down.
The emergency fellas were really cool and looked over the plane with me. I wondered if a bird had struck my wing strut or landing gear and felt them for any dents and looked for blood or feathers. Just the salty residue collected while flying along the coast off the Gulf of Mexico a week-and-a-half ago. Huh. I continued to walk around to the front of the plane, just looking things over.
Me: Ooooohhhhhhhh!
I thanked the emergency guys for their help and let them know that I appreciated it. They said they'd heard my call and just came out to help if they could, and that they'd hang out there for a few more minutes and watch me take off. I thought that was cool.
After departure, I thanked the tower and everyone else for their assistance.
I flew around a couple restricted areas and proceeded north up to the deserted but nice Inyokern airport, where I topped up. After a brief stretch and rest, I continued up the Owens Valley along the east side of the Sierra Navada, part of the American Cordillera, a series of mountain ranges that run along the western United States. Wow! What a completely awesome stretch of absolutely massive rocks! To get a slightly better view, I climbed up to 7,000 and then to 8,000. Still, the tallest mountain in the lower 48 towered high above me (along with the rest of the range!). Absolutely awesome!
As I went, I considered my fuel and remaining distance. The farther I went, the more I felt like just completing the flight and getting on the ground. I had plenty of fuel and would just continue to the day's destination, Carson City, Nevada (KCXP). Probably at least an hour south of Carson City, it started getting smokey. I could see a delineation just above me from clear air to a smokey layer. The smoke only got thicker, and my altitude AGL lower. So, it was smokey, I was at an altitude at which my Luscombe didn't perform well, and there was no shortage of drafts, up, but also the kind you don't want when trying to get over a ridgeline, down. At one point, I was mulling over whether I could make it up over the next ridge. I began to turn to follow the road over the top when I decided I would turn around to do an orbit to gain some altitude. As I turned, a downdraft pushed me closer and closer to a hill. Although I didn't clear it by much, I did survive (thanks to descending terrain) and continued the turn, gaining enough altitude to make it over the top with a bit more comfort.
At one point, the smoke got pretty bad, but I had more than legal visibility, and so I plowed ahead, albeit at less than 500 AGL. Finally, the overall terrain started descending, and I knew I was on the home stretch, flying down a rugged canyon into Eagle Valley, where the city named after Kit Carson is situated.
It wasn't easy to get to Virginia City after fueling, parking, and unloading, but an Uber popped up eventually. It's quite smokey outside here in Mark Twain's once home, and a number of local establishments are shut down or have modified hours, including the Mark Twain museum, the main reason I wanted to come here. Regardless, it's nice to have a day off.
The plan is for Klamath Falls, Oregon, tomorrow, then Lebanon, Oregon on Friday, then home on Saturday.
And I wanted to come in from that direction because I thought the shots would look cool with the background filled with terrain. The truth is (I think) that you could easily land that way without having to slip at all. You just can't be afraid to come in a bit close to the hill, but I don't think you'd need to be perilously low to the ground. In fact, if you turn base just a bit early and low, I don't think you'd need to be anywhere near the hill.
