Compared to yesterday, today was pretty good. We woke to 300 ft broken clouds -- the previously described "scud". We knew it would be so, because the temperature had been hovering near the dew point since dusk last night, and nothing would change until the air warmed up two or three degrees with the sun, probably around 9 or 10 am. So we went up to the airport at 8 and waited.
While we waited, a local rancher started up his Cessna 210, took off and headed south to check out where his cattle had roamed to. He returned in less than five minutes and as he was tucking his plane back into its hangar, I wandered over for a pilot report. He said he barely got up to 400 feet and had his tail in the scud at that. He said the valleys to the south looked socked in, but it was better to the west. Then he pulled out his phone and showed me his flight planning software. I laughed when I saw it was the interstate highway webcams. That's how you fly VFR in Wyoming.
So we thought we might get out. And we really wanted to because the forecast called for snow in two days. So we got in the plane and went up for a look see. The rancher was right, it wasn't too bad to the west. We seldom had to go so low as 400 feet and there were spots where the sun was beginning to break through the upper layers and spill through the scud layer just above us in beautiful, hopeful rayed patterns.
You know, when you're not flying for your life, it's much easier to appreciate the beauty that is the Wyoming landscape. There is little vegetation in spots, we are flying near 8000 ft here after all, but the land is beautiful not in spite of that, but sometimes because of it. Here are a few shots of the terrain near the continental divide between Rawlins and Rock Springs.
The terrain rises in spots, a particular ridge just west of Rock Springs comes to mind. Normally we would fly right by the hat box shaped butte that rises from the top of this 8000 plateau, but the scud was right at that level. I probably could have scraped by in the 100 ft left open, especially since the scud was getting thin here. But yesterday's experience soured me on risk taking, so I turned left and followed the falling ridge until there was more room to maneuver. And so we were back on course toward Kemmerere again.
This is the green river just west of Rock Springs.
The last high altitude runway on this route fits perfectly on a butte above the town of Kemmerer. We had our last brush with scud right there and passed a little lower over the town than we would normally like to. We bypassed the airport for a gas stop at Bear Lake 20 minutes hence, 1000 ft lower at 6000 ft. Rumor has it that the wind sock at Kemmerer is a chain on a stick due to the often howling winds, but this day had relatively calm winds.
My selfie of the trip. The pilots lounge at Bear Lake was the best kept I have ever seen. Look. They have cloth towelettes in the bathroom, and Hank the airport attendant was extremely dutiful. The man was thoughtful and thorough and Bear Lake and traveling pilots are very luck to have him.
Here's the 'coupe at the gas pump in Bear Lake. How much does it cost? 100 Low Lead aviation fuel is anywhere from $3.80 to $6+ per gallon. The plane burns about 9 gallons per hour to fly at about 112 nautical miles per hour (knots). So an hour is about $42 and 125 miles as the crow flies. Guessing a 30% decrease in total mileage because I don't have to follow the curves in the roads, that's about 25 cents a mile. It's probably higher than that, but that's ballpark. That's slightly higher than your average car, and I can't go all the places a car can go or carry, well, anything larger than a toothbrush, but, weather permitting, I get there a lot faster, and I like the trade-offs and will gladly pay the excess.
After the weather in Wyoming, the Snake River Valley seemed like heaven. We turned the corner at Pocatello, which has an actual restaurant on the airport, skipping yet another chance at lunch in favor of westward progress. So we headed out across the great idaho desert. We almost immediately cross from fertile volcanic farmland to volcanic lava flows. It's amazing to fly over this stuff. It's so primeval. Just north of here is Craters of the Moon state park.
Well, we have spent the last three days trying to escape the swirling arms of the giant low pressure system spinning slowly NE from the Colorado/Kansas border and we finally got past the last tentacle. We had about an hour respite and then flew right into a small front moving north out of Nevada, which all the locals tell me almost never happens. It was a result of a crazy jet stream the was flowing in a giant V shape down the California coast and up diagonally through Nevada into southern Idaho, and it was now blocking our path. We got to Gooding and had to sit on the freshly rain-wetted runway with a dark wall to our west. It seemed we would have to stop for the night around Boise or Pendleton.
As luck would have it, my new best flying friend, and grand old college classmate had been reading this very blog and he and his lovely wife offered their hospitality for the evening. Funny thing. He was hoping the weather would hold us up long enough to stay and I didn't want to fly 4 more hours to the coast today. And the weather held us up long enough to ensure a stay in the metropolis of PARMA.
I am terribly remiss in not taking a single photo of my hosts, but I did at least take Mike for a short flight in the 'coupe. In any event, it was a warm evening with good friends and great food and a welcome change from the string of hotels. Thanks very much Mike and Shelley. I hope to see you both again soon.
It turns out that we have been very lucky to escape that horrendous storm. This is what it is forecast to look like on Friday (this was the post for Thursday's flight). Light green is rain, dark green heavy rain, light blue light snow, dark blue heavy, red is thunderstorms (and twisters).
Thank you God for watching over us.
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