Category Archives: Stories

Size does not matter

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There is always that little innuendo when discussing the question if size matters.

But I don’t want to get into this, even though I chose that headline to get your attention — it did work if you are reading this, didn’t it?

So, take a look at this one example where size does not matter…

airliner
Jumbo vs Cessna

Or another one that crossed my desktop.

big and small airplanes
Antonov vs Piper

Before the mighty FAA, we are all created equal. Once you have your clearance, it’s yours. You might give it up to let a big guy with 300 passengers go first, as these big guys are probably burning a lot more fuel idling than I in my single-engine plane will use for a whole trip.

Two tales come to mind. One was that of a flight instructor telling the story at the Pilot’s Co-Op of catching a ride on a business jet once and how the crew was treated to a nice dinner at the FBO when they stopped somewhere for gas. It was only when he saw the bill that he understood why they had been treated so royally.

In the other story, I was a participant myself. It was right after my primary training that I advanced from the Piper Tomahawk to a Warrior at the Pilot’s Co-Op. My instructor, during the checkout on that new type of plane, put me through the paces of practicing my landings. Our airport, Burbank, has intersecting runways. One of them – 15 – was often used for commercial traffic. If there was a 737 ready for take-off on runway 15 and another – smaller – plane on approach to runway 8, the departing plane, and all its 150+ passengers, had to wait. Runway 8 is very long, and the length from touchdown to the intersection with runway 15 was plenty enough for a little plane to touch down, stop, and leave the runway so they never crossed 15. So, it was customary that traffic control asked the landing traffic if they were able to land short of 15, meaning they had no intention of getting to or even crossing runway 15. If the landing traffic confirmed that they would not get to runway 15, the tower could let the big iron take off on runway 15 while the landing traffic was still on approach to runway 8.

That was standard operating procedure, but now yours truly, a new pilot being checked out at a new airport and on a new plane, enters the picture. On approach to runway 8 for the fifth or so time, I confirmed that I would hold short of 15, and so the tower controller gave takeoff clearance to the Southwest 737 and it started rolling on runway 15, the runway I had promised not to cross or in any way to mess with.

Just then my flight instructor, who I was so glad to have had with me, made the decision that I had messed up the approach – I was too high or too slow or both, floating too far down the runway. He grabbed the yoke – MY PLANE!- pushed the throttle to the firewall, and keyed the mike: “Tower, Cherokee 888 going around!!”

Now that was not good. The 737 was rolling towards the intersection and we, in our little tin can, were now climbing out over runway 8 towards the intersection with runway 15.

Tower: “Southwest 114 ABORT – Southwest 114 ABORT!”

All went well, the 737 stopped before the intersection, and we sailed unscathed across the intersection. I was too busy digesting all this so I did not take a good look into the cockpit of the 737 that was sitting right there on my left side. But I could imagine that the pitch of the captain’s voice might not have been as low as it usually was.

We got the expected call from the tower: “Cherokee 888, Tower, contact the tower after landing!” Was I glad that I was only the student, and my instructor legally the pilot in command! A bit after we landed and tied down, I saw my instructor on the phone with the tower – very meek and apologetic – rather different than his usual boisterous self. Fortunately for him, he got off with a warning.

It was a big story at the Pilot’s Co-Op and many guesses were made about how much money in kerosene this incident had cost Southwest. I mostly felt with the poor passengers who did not really know what was happening: the usual bit of anticipation or fear at the takeoff roll and then suddenly screeching brakes – it might have convinced some never to fly again.

I myself only had one instance of “Call the tower after landing!” During one evening’s takeoff proceedings, I had heard “Cleared for takeoff” while the tower had actually told me “In position and hold”, so I was already rolling and accelerating while the previous landing plane was still on the runway. This is when I got ‘The Call’. I was able to weasel myself out with the excuse that I was going someplace further away and could truthfully tell the controller that his tower would be closed when I returned. So, he just scolded me a bit and told me to listen better next time.

35 Years A Pilot

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Thirty-five years ago, on the thirteenth day of June 1991 Anno Domini, I had my first flight as a freshly baked pilot.

I had trained at Bub Walen Aviation at the Van Nuys Airport in California. The trainers at that school were exclusively Piper Tomahawks, so it was the logical choice to rent one for my first flight on which I could legally take a passenger.

Best buddy Max was chosen to prove his trust in me.

The historic moment was recorded by exposing 35mm film with light through the lens of a camera – believe it or not — we did not have phones with built-in cameras yet. Even though it was Max, who had the first cell phone I ever encountered – one of those brick-sized blocks that cost 45 cents/minute to use.

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Yours truly – ready to go!
First flight as pilot with Tomahawk 0001
Max took the yoke — but only playing pretend; it took him a while to get his license as well.

Take-off was without any unusual events; time en route was minimal because Agua Duce Airpark was just 25 miles to the north-northeast, but landing was not quite as I had planned. I was a bit high on the final approach and had to lose altitude quicker than normal.

I was well trained, so I knew what to do: a sideslip. You turn the ailerons to one side as if to enter a turn, but counter that with rudder to the opposite side. This way you put more of the plane’s side into the wind, creating more drag, and you really can go down like in an elevator. When you have reached the proper altitude, you straighten out and land normally.

This is what I did and landed event-free. This procedure can be a bit disconcerting for a new passenger, but Max took it in stride.

After a proper pre-flight…

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First flight as pilot with Tomahawk 0003

… the return flight was without events – at least I don’t remember any — all that was today, 35 years ago.

I did not remain a customer of Bub Walen for long. Soon I found the Pilot’s Co-Op at the Burbank Airport, a club that had many Warriors and Archers, and most of my now about 800 light hours was on that type.

Too bad there was no YouTube yet — otherwise I might have a flourishing aviation channel now, like for example Stevie Triesenberg. (I think I could have competed in the cuteness department.)

The Llano Estacado – 130 Years Later

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Llano Estacado
Llano Estacado 2023 (or there-abouts)

Growing up in Germany in the 60s, every boy worth his salt would read the stories of Karl May The school library had a full set of his travel stories – somewhere around 70 – and I believe, I read them all. Many of my schoolmates must have also been worth their salt, because books were often out and you had to wait and visit the library often, to get the book you hadn’t read yet.

One story (maybe several – I don’t completely remember) played in the Llano Estacado. It was described as a big, flat, and featureless area in America. Water was hard to come by and it was dangerous to reach the few and far between watering holes.

To assist, stakes had been set along the path to guide the traveler, therefore llano estacado – the staked plane. Sandstorms often made the crossing even more dangerous, but even in a storm the two to three-meter high stakes would guide a trek. (Yes, even more than a century ago, Germans used the metric system.)

The stories were adventure stories, so they needed villains. They enter the Llano Estacados as gangsters that pull out a series of stakes and set them in a direction leading into the void instead of to the next watering hole. The poor traveler following those stakes ended up in the middle of the dry desert and died of thirst – only to be robbed by the gangsters without any danger to them – because they knew where the watering hole was and had plenty of water for themselves.

I do not remember how the story’s hero, Old Shatterhand, dealt with the hoodlums but, knowing Karl May, it was most likely that they were punished by the wrath of god.

Even if I don’t remember the outcome of the story, I do remember the Llano Estacado after so many decades. It made a strong impression on that young teenager, who, at that time, never imagined that he once would cross that Llano himself. Today I helped to plan a trip to Llano, Texas, and I decided that it really is time to research that good old Llano Estacado.

And – as you see in the picture above – the stakes are still there, just a bit taller and now with wires connecting their tops – – I can only imagine preventing hooligans from re-staking them to misguide the traveler. – – Oh, yes, and the paths are paved now!

How to Measure the Height of a Building

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Empire State BuildingSir Ernest Rutherford, President of the Royal Academy, and recipient of the Nobel Prize in Physics, related the following story: “Some time ago I received a call from a colleague. He was about to give a student a zero for his answer to a physics question, while the student claimed a perfect score. The instructor and the student agreed to an impartial arbiter, and I was selected.

I read the examination question: “Show how it is possible to determine the height of a tall building with the aid of a barometer.” The student had answered: “Take the barometer to the top of the building, attach a long rope to it, lower it to the street, and then bring it up, measuring the length of the rope. The length of the rope is the height of the building.”

The student really had a strong case for full credit since he had really answered the question completely and correctly! On the other hand, if full credit were given, it could well contribute to a high grade in his physics course and certify competence in physics, but the answer did not confirm this. I suggested that the student have another try. I gave the
student six minutes to answer the question with the warning that the answer should show some knowledge of physics. At the end of five minutes, he hadn’t written anything. I asked if he wished to give up, but he said he had many answers to this problem; he was just thinking of the best one. I excused myself for interrupting him and asked him to please go on. In the next minute, he dashed off his answer which read: “Take the barometer to the top of the building and lean over the edge of the roof. Drop the barometer, timing its fall with a stopwatch. Then, using the formula x=0.5*a*t^2, calculate the height of the building.”

At this point, I asked my colleague if he would give up. He conceded, and gave the student almost full credit. While leaving my colleague’s office, I recalled that the student had said that he had other answers to the problem, so I asked him what they were.

“Well,” said the student, “there are many ways of getting the height of a tall building with the aid of a barometer. For example, you could take the barometer out on a sunny day and measure the height of the barometer, the length of its shadow, and the length of the shadow of the building, and by the use of simple proportion, determine the height of the
building.”

“Fine,” I said, “and others?”

“Yes,” said the student, “there is a very basic measurement method you will like. In this method, you take the barometer and begin to walk up the stairs. As you climb the stairs, you mark off the length of the barometer along the wall. You then count the number of marks, and his will give you the height of the building in barometer units.” “A very direct method.”

“Of course. If you want a more sophisticated method, you can tie the barometer to the end of a string, swing it as a pendulum, and determine the value of g [gravity] at the street level and at the top of the building. From the difference between the two values of g, the height of the building, in principle, can be calculated.”

“On this same tack, you could take the barometer to the top of the building, attach a long rope to it, lower it to just above the street, and then swing it as a pendulum. You could then calculate the height of the building by the period of the precession”.

“Finally,” he concluded, “there are many other ways of solving the problem.”

“Probably the best,” he said, “is to take the barometer to the basement and knock on the superintendent’s door. When the superintendent answers, you speak to him as follows: ‘Mr. Superintendent, here is a fine barometer. If you will tell me the height of the building, I will give you this barometer.”

At this point, I asked the student if he really did not know the conventional answer to this question. He admitted that he did, but said that he was fed up with high school and college instructors trying to teach him how to think.

The name of the student was Niels Bohr.”

Flying into LAX all by myself

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A Youtube video by Niko’s Wings of a night approach and landing at Chicago’s O’Hare reminded me that I had done a similar stunt a bit further west at LAX.

If you have no first-hand experience with the navigation of the airways you will not know that landing at one of those big airports like O’Hare is virtually impossible for a private pilot with one fan in front.

You sometimes get routed through a Bravo airspace (the highly protected space around major airports) but to enter, you have to get explicit permission in the form of a clearance like “Piper Warrior N8300L cleared to enter Bravo airspace.” But landing at the airport that this Bravo airspace protects, you don’t’ even think about it  – – –  normally.

But maybe I am not normal. So, in the 90s, I was playing in the airspace west of Burbank – my home airport,  one late night, probably after 1 am. The radio was quiet most of the time and suddenly the idea hit me – why not shoot a practice approach into LAX, just 20-30 miles to the South-East.

So I tuned into LAX approach (now SoCal approach) – “LAX approach, PA28 N8300L, request!” I might have woken up the controller but he came back shortly “N8300L, LAX approach, go ahead.”

I gathered all my courage and asked for a practice-approach into LAX. Unfortunately, the answer was that no practice approaches are permitted at LAX. But – – – you can have a full stop landing. Wow – that was even better! For all you non-flying peeps, a practice-approach is the pretense to land at an airport as if there were clouds so that you have to land only using your instruments. Then, when you are close enough to ensure a safe landing, you give full power and get out of there – often turning around, flying another approach – that’s why it’s called ‘practice’ approach.

Now, really landing at LAX with my Piper Warrior – that would be something to tell the grandchildren about, many, many years later.

So, yes, Sir – I’ll take that approach and landing at LAX!

I got my clearance into the Bravo airspace and radar vectors to the ILS Runway 24R. (ILS stands for Instrument Landing System – a radio signal coming from the beginning of the runway that guides us down to the landing zone vertically and horizontally.)

And then I flew like a young god – holding my assigned altitude within 50 feet and pegged my directional gyro exactly where the controller had told me. I intercepted the ILS and slid down towards 24R.

Then it was time to switch from approach control to tower. Just saying “Los Angeles tower, Cherokee 8300L with you for 24R” grew some serious hair on my chest.

But I did not get to complete my landing at LAX after all. Tower told me that I should finish my approach and then fly a missed approach. That was the friendly way of giving me my practice approach without violating their rule that there are no practice approaches at LAX. It might have been a bit of a loss for me but, on the other hand, I might have owed LAX a landing fee.

I was handed over the approach control again which guided me out of the Bravo airspace and shortly I landed at my home base Burbank, tied down and went home a hero.

A not quite International Airport

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(This is a little story that I wrote in my blog before there were blogs.)

I loved this little air strip of Jerry and Lucy up there in the High Sierra. But I was also afraid of it. It’s one of the places that pushed me to make the decision to learn to fly. Imagining the romantic feeling of flying a bi-plane, wind in your hair, into a strip out there in the wilderness. Here is a strip like that. I call it Jerry’s paradise. Because it is! The last time I was up there, Jerry told me they had been there for thirty-seven years now with no intention to leave.

Nearly every aerodrome looks small when seen from the distance. However, most of them get bigger when you come closer. But Jerry’s airstrip, even when you are close enough to make a decision to land…

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…still looks really small.

During primary training, my instructor always complained when I did not land exactly on the centerline. I never really understood it, because on a runway like Burbank’s 8 there was so much space on both sides, so who cares about the couple of feet to the left or right? On Jerry’s airstrip, you just don’t have a couple of feet to the left or right. There only is the centerline.

After touchdown on Jerry’s airstrip, I always tried to get trusty 08L stopped before reaching the middle of the strip because there is a mown area to the right of the actual runway to tie down a couple of visiting planes. Never managed to do so though. Always still had a bit too much speed and had to run all the way to the end of the strip, turn around in Jerry’s yard, and taxi back to the tie-down. One of these days I will manage – I promise!

Takeoff, in contrast, is rather easy for me. This one time my friend Ron, with whom I stayed for the weekend up there in his mountain hotel, dropped me off at 08L’s parking space and took a nice series of shots of my take-off. I thought I share these…

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Going through the pre-engine-start checklist

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CLEAR PROP !!

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Increase power to start rolling – and it takes quite a bit of power to start rolling on the grass and dirt.

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Taxi back towards Jerry’s Yard.

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I really had to figure out how to turn in Jerry’s Yard without getting out of the plane to push. It’s a bit too narrow to turn directly, so I use the technique I learned in driving school for turns in narrow streets: All the way to the right, then a sharp left turn toward the curb, followed by backing up with a right turn – –  only 08L does not have reverse! Fortunately, the yard slopes up, so my left turn goes up a slope a bit and gravity helps me to go backward – – then another left turn and the 180-degree turn is done.

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Aligned with the runway with Jerry’s yard behind me, Checklist, Ready for Take-Off! No need here to announce my departure on Unicom frequency – first, there is no Unicom frequency, and second, Jerry would have told me had somebody else announced his arrival.

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Gaining Speed – 30 Knots

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Rushing by Ron at 40 Knots

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Reaching Rotation Speed at 60 Knots

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Staying in Ground Effect to Gain Some More Speed

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Leaving the Earth Below!

Reaching 4500 feet, 500 above the strip, I turn around, fly over the field once more, and rock the wings to say goodbye. Then it’s climbing nearly all the way to Bakersfield to get up to 9500 to get enough altitude between me and the Grapevine. Crossing Gorman VOR, I start letting down slowly until I’m at 5000 over Magic Mountain

Airial Shot of Six Flags
Six Flags
which looks so insignificant from up here. Still, I don’t think anybody would ever get me into Colossus, Ninja, or Viper.

And then, just a little bit later:

“Burbank Approach, Cherokee 8308L, over Magic Mountain, five thousand, landing Burbank with Information Alpha.”

The Internet is Humming with Dr. Who

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The Doctor and Clara

Today the wait was over – the second half of season 7 of Dr. Who has started.

I bet that most views of the show happened on the official channels like BBC America here in the US of A, but, as we are out in the boons, with the cable left behind, we depended on the good old pirate bay to get our fix of Dr. Who (obviously this is a lie, as we would never download any tv show illegally.) Had we actually looked at the torrents we would have been surprised by all the buzz on the interconnected pipes that make up the internet. Way over 2000 seeders is rather rare, and still, download speed would have been – had we done that – still rather slow, so there would have been many, many people as excited to find out about the Doctor’s new adventures and all with a new companion.

Had we been able to watch the show after downloading it illegally we would have been able to actually watch it on the west coast before it officially aired. As I write this, it’s only a bit after the show ended and we would have finished it hours ago – way ahead of all the people waiting for the BBC to start it – Man – are time zones cool, or what?

I’m really curious if the Doctor will get lucky with this companion, but I’m not really holding my breath as one of the big tensions in the series is that that never happens. Strange things can happen if time travel is involved, like Amy turning out to be the Doctor’s mother in law – who comes up with those things?

Thanks, Steven Moffat!

Patrolling Space In the Spaceship Orion

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I previously mentioned the spaceship Orion in my post about Living Under Water. The German science fiction TV series Space Patrol (Raumpatrouille) follows the crew of the spaceship Orion on their adventures through the galaxy.

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I remember waiting very excitedly for the première of the series and then every next week’s show. It came out at about the same time in 1966 as the original Star Trek, but it was much later that I finally watched my first Star Trek episode and it confirmed the German arrogance that we (the Germans) are better at creating things but it also confirmed the other stereotype that America is much better in marketing. Orion lasted seven episodes with a remastered movie version in the early 2000s, while Star Trek is still going strong after nearly half a century. Sets and special effects were so much more creative than the original Star Trek even though some people dared to make fun of some of the props, like the electric iron used to do some mysterious tuning task on the navigation console. In my mind then, those people just didn’t get it.

I do have the whole series on DVD and it is about time to watch it again, but today I enjoyed running into another fan of the series who took his admiration for the show a bit further than just buying the DVDs – he created stunning illustrations of the adventures of the star cruiser Orion.

I discovered Crossvalley Smith through a post on Facebook that featured one of his illustrations from the Perry Rhodan universe, another sweet memory of mine, a science fiction series published as weekly pulp novellas.

A scene from a landing of the Orion on a desert planet has for now replaced an anime illustration as my computer wall paper – go check out Crossvalley’s site, maybe you find something you enjoy.