An Insanely Great Flight

What a fantastic day it was to go flying! The skies were almost crystal clear, with a high cirrus layer (higher than we would get). Abe, a friend of mine (also a pilot) and I took a Cessna 172S, tail number N372TA, for a flight to Chiraco Summit. I did the flight plan, and included a flyover of the Salton Sea Airport, which was not too much out of the way. Once at Chiraco, we would enjoy a $200 cup of coffee and, perhaps, a sandwich at the diner, and discuss the route back.

Since the 172S has a Garmin G1000 "glass panel" which I am not "checked out" in (the club requires a check out/sign off before they give you they key), I can't currently fly this plane without Abe, but he does a good job teaching me the equipment. We run through the checklist, which is a bit more involved than a standard C172, and Abe explains the various differences. I let Abe handle taxiing to runway 28R, while I set up the navigation way-points on the Garmin. Once in the run-up area, I take over the airplane and do the runup, which mostly differs from other C172 in that you have to know where on the displays to find the numbers you re looking for.

Takeoff is smooth, and it's great to be back in the air after nearly two months. On the way out East, I always love to fly over El Capitan Reservoir, and this day was no exception. There were a lot of boats on the lake, and I felt sorry for the little ground based life forms stuck to the surface of the Earth down there, but they just don't know any better, I guess.

From El Cap, we climb to 7,500 and make a drunken beeline to KSAS (Salton Sea Airport). The Airport/Facilities Directory indicates there are 2-inch rocks on the runway, so we did not plan on landing, but I wanted to check it out. Once over the Julian mountains, the Salton Sea was clearly visible, and Borrego Springs was off to our left. As we approached KSAS, I began a descent, but kept my airspeed up (as we were not planning on landing). Abe took the radios and began the standard CTAF (Common Traffic Advisor Frequency, used at untowered airports) callouts; "Cessna 3-7-2-Tango-Alpha, ten miles east of Salton, 5,000 feet, will be flying over the airport", etc. As the airport grew more clearly visible, we were both impressed by the desolation -- a few houses off in the distance, a few trailer/campers, and a whole lot of dirt. Salton is a town full of stillborn roads and avenues. You can see the city that might have been, but most of the roads have no houses on them.

This place was looking strangely interesting, as we approached our flyover, and I decided to join the landing pattern (though we were the only aircraft in the area, all airports have a standard pattern) and do a low pass over the runway for a visual inspection. As I was flying the plane, I flew to the left of the runway so Abe would have a clear view of the surface. I do love to fly low approaches! Flying about 30 feet AGL, we were actually about 50 feet below sea level (KSAS is -84' MSL), at about 80 knots, Abe gandered at the runway for a bit and said "I don't see any big rocks -- looks fine", and we decided to land. Abe made the next radio callout, indicating we were on upwind, and immediately the radio cracked to life with a single word: "LAND!"

Abe and I looked at each other, and pondered this mysterious communication. Clearly, this was either from some drug dealers who wanted to shoot us and steal our plane, or simply from a lonely local. If you have seen the Salton Sea, it's easy to understand how the locals must be lonely. Abe then got back on the radio and asked for some warm cookies when we landed. The landing, my first in two months, was very nice, if I do say so myself. I performed a soft-field landing, which was a good choice, as the runway from 30 feet looks a lot less rocky than the runway does at 5 feet! After landing, we got out, walked around, took some pictures, and Abe gave some water to the desert.

It was time for our next leg, Chiraco Summit. But that will be another episode...