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Lake Washoe Survival Tips
I'd flown in the Sierras many times in Cessnas, Pipers, and Mooneys. My most memorable experience was coming back from the Grand Canyon in 1980. We found a wave on the east side of the Sierras near Mono Lake, and pulled the throttle back to idle while we tried to stay below cloudbase. I knew right then that I wanted to "catch the wave" someday with no engine, just me and the wind.
Before launch at McClellan, I pumped the other pilots for every bit of information to help my flight be as safe as possible. The consensus was to fly toward evening.
I launched around 7 pm, and immediately settled into a comfortable lift band above launch. My friend radioed an occasional suggestion, and soon I was having the time of my life.
I didn't have much trouble finding lift, and after an hour of moseying along toward the LZ, the sun dropped below Slide Mountain. At 8400 feet, things started getting rough, and soon I discovered that finding sink could be harder than finding lift!
It took a full 20 minutes to get back down to 6000 feet, and I was exhausted.
After a minute of watching the wind sock at the LZ, I knew I was in trouble. It looked like the traffic director in an intersection, switching back and forth from the mountain to the lake.
The prevailing wind had been from the lake all day, and it didn't make sense to fly final in a downwind direction, so I decided to try a crosswind landing, heading South.
At 20 feet up, I hit the transition between the prevailing westerly and the catabatic flow down the hill next to the LZ. I was crabbed to the right to compensate for the westerly, so the catabatic flow came in the BACK of my left wing, pointing me due west.
A quick review of the basics of aerodynamics should convince you that this is not an approved way of generating lift.
I quickly corrected to level the wings, and hoped that I could parachute down to the ground. I had about 4 mph ground speed, which I quickly noted was the same as the windspeed. The air around my helmet was dead calm as I dropped into the 50 foot circle.
I flared (which did nothing) and held my flare, hoping my new 5 inch wheels would work in the grass. I actually noticed them turn about once, then I torpedoed into the keel.
As the guys ran toward me, I laid on the ground, assessing my condition. My left arm didn't feel right, and it didn't take too long to realize that I had performed the classic "twist through the triangle - spiral fracture of the humerus" maneuver.
Mission Soaring has an excellent article in this month's newsletter on humeral fractures - it's worth reading. Without repeating its recommendations, here's my two cents worth on Washoe survival:
1. Get on the ground by sunset. The lights of Carson City are very pretty, but that might be the last time you get to see them. Catabatic flows start when the hill loses its heat source.
2. If the LZ wind direction is opposite the general flow, NEVER attempt a crosswind landing! The transition will spin you downwind every time.
I wish to express my heartfelt thanks to all the guys who came
to my rescue on the LZ. Your professionalism and concern were appreciated
beyond words.
Because I live with non-pilots who are currently questioning
my sanity, I won't be flying hang-gliders for a couple of years.
I do plan to continue following propellers around the sky, hopefully as
a wiser and safer pilot who got to learn a little about micrometerology.
But I'll always be dreaming about that one, awesome, totally
perfect flight at McClellan. I just don't dream the landing.
© 2000 by Brent Stewart
editor@nchga.org
editor@nchga.org
They will soar on wings like eagles;
They will run and not grow weary,
They will walk and not be faint."
Isaiah 40:31
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