It's been a while since I've been inspired to write in this space... When I first started flying the RV-8 almost everything I did in it seemed new and exciting and I wanted to pass along those experiences to my friends and the blog seemed like the way to do it. And gradually as the years have rolled by my bar for what was worthwhile to write up here has become higher and higher...
Interesting flight experiences end up becoming more and more rare. Flying the plane is still a blast for me. I get supreme satisfaction buzzing around in a plane that I built but I don't feel compelled to write about it very often.
I've flown all over the west coast in the past year but not much has reached the level of interesting enough to sit in front of a keyboard and bang out my impression of the experience to share with the world.
My wife and I took a year to travel, and that yielded many experiences that warranted writing about but this blog is for flying and letting the rest of the world know what flying a little homebuilt plane is like and my flying experiences, most of them, while great, for the past three years haven't seemed worthwhile writing about. Sure the eclipse was great, Oshkosh was great, fly in camping in the Idaho back country was great but I couldn't bring myself to write up another post over those things.
As an example, since moving west I've made dozens of trips to Mexico, but never really felt compelled to write about much beyond the first trip and then a trip that ended up being a colossal waste of time. I mean, the most interesting thing I've written about over the past few years was about how the central valley of California was a cesspool (meteorologically speaking).
Every year, except for last year, I try to make a trip to La Paz, Mexico to kitesurf in La Ventana. It's four hours from San Diego. The airport there is international which means you can fly direct. They have rental cars on the field and then it's only a 40 minute drive to get on the water. MLK weekend, I can wake up early on a Friday, and be on the water in La Ventana by 1 PM, kitesurf three more days, then on Tuesday drive over to La Paz, swim with the whale sharks and be home by 5 PM. Every single time I've gone on MLK weekend there has been epic wind. Two days off work, for four days of kitesurfing and whale sharks just because. This is just how things have been going for me. Life is good. For 2018 I had the same plan.
My usual partner in crime for this kitesurfing trip couldn't make it, so I found another all-too-willing victim, and just to make sure he knew what he was getting into I took him for a ride the weekend before.
I do all the paper work drills that you have to do to cross the border: Mexican and US advanced passenger notifications, flight plans, customs sticker, copies of all my documents, letter of understanding from the Mexican government on insurance and the status of Experimental "home built" airplanes in Mexico. Lots of stuff.
So when the departure time rolls around I'm pretty nonchalant about the whole thing and I tell my passenger that once we get south of the border we would not see any planes for hours on end, like nearly all four hours of the flight...
The flight runs like clockwork, Gillespie tower opens my flight plan, clears me for take off and gives me an early hand off to SoCal Approach. I get a transponder code, (you have to have one of those to cross the border), and five minutes later I'm hearing Tijuana Control respond to my radio calls with the familiar and amusing Mexican way of acknowledging me: "Royer", their way of saying "Roger."
Twenty miles or so south of the border, Tijuana Control cuts me loose and I'm instructed to contact Loreto tower when abeam their station. For the kids following along at home on the map, Loreto is around 2.5 hrs away. In other words I'm on my own, not talking to anyone for the next 2.5 hrs.
On most of the trips I take to Baja I fly directly past a mountain, Picacho del Diablo that pokes just above 10,000 feet. I'm flying at 9500 and passing on the east side of this mountain when it's bathed in the soft morning sun. It's a pretty nice way to go. If you fly close enough it makes for nice selfies and with the autopilot flying we don't have much else going on.
As we're approaching this mountain I notice a plane flying well above and in front of me. Moving reasonably fast but not jet speeds, in the opposite direction. It fits the profile of a P-51 but a P-51 in Mexico makes as much sense as air brakes on your moms station wagon...
I continue motoring on and the plane is still overhead, behind us, but appears to be circling back for another look.
Yep, for sure it's circling back... then doing S turns behind us, then it joins up on our right. Join in this context is formation flying lingo for the in flight creation of a formation flight. Formation flying is dangerous business and the US rules expressly prohibit it unless the pilots in command BOTH agree to the formation flight.
So here I am, in a foreign country and another pilot is doing something that is expressly forbidden in my country. At this point things are getting interesting...
I knock off the autopilot and rock my wings. No response. At this point I can see that the plane is a Beech T-6 II military trainer. In other words it is unarmed. Those things on the wings are fuel, not missiles or guns.
For any country the military can pretty much do what they want... so here I am flying in formation with a military plane from another country. I've done my homework and I'm confident that I'm operating within the bounds of their law. flight plans, transponder code, communications. I'm doing everything I'm required to do but it sure feels like I should be doing something else...
So I punch up the emergency frequency or "guard", 121.5, and make a call something to the effect of "aircraft operating near San Felipe that has intercepted yellow and blue aircraft please state your intentions".
I get no response from the aircraft, but I do get a response from the pilot of Alaska 203 flying high above me in pressurized comfort. He asks if I'm doing all the right stuff, flight plan, transponder, communication. I affirm that I am doing all of that and he then asks if the aircraft rocked their wings.
You never want to see this from an military aircraft, this is a signal that you are being intercepted, you are to follow them, when they get to an airport they put their gear down and you are to land. They may not ask twice... But they haven't rocked their wings at me. So we're not there yet...
While all this chit chat with Alaska 203 has transpired, the T-6 has come to about 175 feet off my right side and I can see that he's got his speed brake down... nothing like adding insult to injury. They are so close now that I signal with my fingers ONE TWO ONE FIVE pause and then repeat, trying to get the plane to come up on the guard frequency. No joy, but I can see that they are taking pictures. While I do appreciate that they like the looks of my plane, if they wanted pictures of my plane they could have just emailed me.
By now, we're 30 minutes in to this thing and the plane has broken off from me and is doing S turns behind us again and I'm back on autopilot. Coast is all clear right?
No... another identical plane shows up, he joins on with the first aircraft and then they both join up on me on the left side. By this time I've even called Mazatlan Center and asked the controllers there if they had any info about what these jokers were up to. They've got no information either.
So the two T-6s rode off my wing for another thirty minutes before gently breaking off and disappearing. You can judge for yourself the quality of this formation flying.
On one hand I can say that wow, this was really cool to see these planes up close and personal, and for sure I've got a good story to tell over beers but the truth is that...
This sort of activity is, as the Alaska 203 pilot put it, unprofessional... This is an understatement. I'm a civil pilot in every sense of the word. I fly civilians around and I treat other pilots and aircraft with respect, putting unnecessary stress on a pilot endangers safety. Why did these two pilots see fit to endanger the safety of me and my passenger? If their commanders think this is appropriate then I would like to know what end they think this is serving.
Simply communicating on the guard frequency would have been plenty to allay any concerns that they were a threat. Fair winds and following seas until the next adventure...
Interesting flight experiences end up becoming more and more rare. Flying the plane is still a blast for me. I get supreme satisfaction buzzing around in a plane that I built but I don't feel compelled to write about it very often.
I've flown all over the west coast in the past year but not much has reached the level of interesting enough to sit in front of a keyboard and bang out my impression of the experience to share with the world.
My wife and I took a year to travel, and that yielded many experiences that warranted writing about but this blog is for flying and letting the rest of the world know what flying a little homebuilt plane is like and my flying experiences, most of them, while great, for the past three years haven't seemed worthwhile writing about. Sure the eclipse was great, Oshkosh was great, fly in camping in the Idaho back country was great but I couldn't bring myself to write up another post over those things.
 |
| Parked in the back country of Idaho |
As an example, since moving west I've made dozens of trips to Mexico, but never really felt compelled to write about much beyond the first trip and then a trip that ended up being a colossal waste of time. I mean, the most interesting thing I've written about over the past few years was about how the central valley of California was a cesspool (meteorologically speaking).
Every year, except for last year, I try to make a trip to La Paz, Mexico to kitesurf in La Ventana. It's four hours from San Diego. The airport there is international which means you can fly direct. They have rental cars on the field and then it's only a 40 minute drive to get on the water. MLK weekend, I can wake up early on a Friday, and be on the water in La Ventana by 1 PM, kitesurf three more days, then on Tuesday drive over to La Paz, swim with the whale sharks and be home by 5 PM. Every single time I've gone on MLK weekend there has been epic wind. Two days off work, for four days of kitesurfing and whale sharks just because. This is just how things have been going for me. Life is good. For 2018 I had the same plan.
My usual partner in crime for this kitesurfing trip couldn't make it, so I found another all-too-willing victim, and just to make sure he knew what he was getting into I took him for a ride the weekend before.
I do all the paper work drills that you have to do to cross the border: Mexican and US advanced passenger notifications, flight plans, customs sticker, copies of all my documents, letter of understanding from the Mexican government on insurance and the status of Experimental "home built" airplanes in Mexico. Lots of stuff.
So when the departure time rolls around I'm pretty nonchalant about the whole thing and I tell my passenger that once we get south of the border we would not see any planes for hours on end, like nearly all four hours of the flight...
The flight runs like clockwork, Gillespie tower opens my flight plan, clears me for take off and gives me an early hand off to SoCal Approach. I get a transponder code, (you have to have one of those to cross the border), and five minutes later I'm hearing Tijuana Control respond to my radio calls with the familiar and amusing Mexican way of acknowledging me: "Royer", their way of saying "Roger."
Twenty miles or so south of the border, Tijuana Control cuts me loose and I'm instructed to contact Loreto tower when abeam their station. For the kids following along at home on the map, Loreto is around 2.5 hrs away. In other words I'm on my own, not talking to anyone for the next 2.5 hrs.
On most of the trips I take to Baja I fly directly past a mountain, Picacho del Diablo that pokes just above 10,000 feet. I'm flying at 9500 and passing on the east side of this mountain when it's bathed in the soft morning sun. It's a pretty nice way to go. If you fly close enough it makes for nice selfies and with the autopilot flying we don't have much else going on.
 |
| Obligatory mountain background selfie |
As we're approaching this mountain I notice a plane flying well above and in front of me. Moving reasonably fast but not jet speeds, in the opposite direction. It fits the profile of a P-51 but a P-51 in Mexico makes as much sense as air brakes on your moms station wagon...
I continue motoring on and the plane is still overhead, behind us, but appears to be circling back for another look.
Yep, for sure it's circling back... then doing S turns behind us, then it joins up on our right. Join in this context is formation flying lingo for the in flight creation of a formation flight. Formation flying is dangerous business and the US rules expressly prohibit it unless the pilots in command BOTH agree to the formation flight.
So here I am, in a foreign country and another pilot is doing something that is expressly forbidden in my country. At this point things are getting interesting...
I knock off the autopilot and rock my wings. No response. At this point I can see that the plane is a Beech T-6 II military trainer. In other words it is unarmed. Those things on the wings are fuel, not missiles or guns.
For any country the military can pretty much do what they want... so here I am flying in formation with a military plane from another country. I've done my homework and I'm confident that I'm operating within the bounds of their law. flight plans, transponder code, communications. I'm doing everything I'm required to do but it sure feels like I should be doing something else...
So I punch up the emergency frequency or "guard", 121.5, and make a call something to the effect of "aircraft operating near San Felipe that has intercepted yellow and blue aircraft please state your intentions".
I get no response from the aircraft, but I do get a response from the pilot of Alaska 203 flying high above me in pressurized comfort. He asks if I'm doing all the right stuff, flight plan, transponder, communication. I affirm that I am doing all of that and he then asks if the aircraft rocked their wings.
You never want to see this from an military aircraft, this is a signal that you are being intercepted, you are to follow them, when they get to an airport they put their gear down and you are to land. They may not ask twice... But they haven't rocked their wings at me. So we're not there yet...
While all this chit chat with Alaska 203 has transpired, the T-6 has come to about 175 feet off my right side and I can see that he's got his speed brake down... nothing like adding insult to injury. They are so close now that I signal with my fingers ONE TWO ONE FIVE pause and then repeat, trying to get the plane to come up on the guard frequency. No joy, but I can see that they are taking pictures. While I do appreciate that they like the looks of my plane, if they wanted pictures of my plane they could have just emailed me.
By now, we're 30 minutes in to this thing and the plane has broken off from me and is doing S turns behind us again and I'm back on autopilot. Coast is all clear right?
No... another identical plane shows up, he joins on with the first aircraft and then they both join up on me on the left side. By this time I've even called Mazatlan Center and asked the controllers there if they had any info about what these jokers were up to. They've got no information either.
So the two T-6s rode off my wing for another thirty minutes before gently breaking off and disappearing. You can judge for yourself the quality of this formation flying.
On one hand I can say that wow, this was really cool to see these planes up close and personal, and for sure I've got a good story to tell over beers but the truth is that...
This sort of activity is, as the Alaska 203 pilot put it, unprofessional... This is an understatement. I'm a civil pilot in every sense of the word. I fly civilians around and I treat other pilots and aircraft with respect, putting unnecessary stress on a pilot endangers safety. Why did these two pilots see fit to endanger the safety of me and my passenger? If their commanders think this is appropriate then I would like to know what end they think this is serving.
Simply communicating on the guard frequency would have been plenty to allay any concerns that they were a threat. Fair winds and following seas until the next adventure...
2 comments:
Wow...
Awesome! Can imagine how nerve racking that could be, like having to break off of Final because a Lear Jet is right on your rear.... on your very first solo.... man I miss flying.
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