I took off at sunrise with a 20 knot tailwind pushing me southeast. I had to validate with Arina that we did everything I thought we did, in one day, on 9/23. 9/23 - Indio, CA - Imperial, CA (& Slab City, CA) The town is dead there (when it's not a festival weekend). The winds died after the second day, which we spent regrouping, sitting in a cafe and shooting off emails, etc. I couldn't decide if he was very brave or reckless. The craft rose 1,000 feet before it was halfway down the runway, lights flickering through the mask of sand grain. Stephen and I sprinted outside in time to see a Cessna actually taking off into the storm the winds must have been at least 30 knots. The winds ripped through the rows of hangars, van and trike parked inside one of them, clanging and rattling like a banshee in a dungeon. Everyone there was very genial and made me feel like a celebrity.Īgain we were delayed, this time by sandstorms which filled our teeth if we opened our mouths at all. I got to meet Angel, who works for the airport and who had arranged my arrival.
#Tiltshift rain full
A golf cart full of grinning boys escorted me to a comically-oversized hangar. I descended after Palm Springs and landed smoothly at Bermuda Dunes. I leaned my head out the side to let the wind blow dry my face shield. I was shivering a little at 5,500' and was briefly misted by a rain cloud. I was tense approaching the pass, rolling hills and small peaks beneath me. That he got back in his machine after an experience like that is still incredible. Of course, high winds are nothing in comparison to the events of Cal's flight to Banning in 1911: his engine exploded there, spraying hot oil in his face and causing him to land immediately. It can quickly turn into a giant wind tunnel, and I was anticipating heavy turbulence for the 20 minutes it would take me to fly through it. I had 3 alternate airports selected in case conditions deteriorated, especially given the nature of Banning Pass: a place formidable to pilots. So on a cool, grey morning, 5 days after setting out from Lodi, I found myself above Los Angeles, looking down at rows of concrete through a palpable haze. "Weird weather for this time of year" has been a recurrent phase.įinally the clouds were high enough for me to sneak out.
Looking back on it, the tenseness of that delay is one that still unnerves me. The second day I discovered that the bearing of my front wheel was broken we spent most of the day chasing down parts, finding a machine shop to drill out the old bearings, and hammering in the replacements. We spent them plugged into our friend (and fellow trike pilot) Henry's power supply and parked in front of his house. We were still only 20 minutes from Stephen's dad's but in the opposite direction. I parked Eddy under an overhang and tied him down.Īnyway, let's backtrack to Los Angeles. After 40 minutes I landed at Dallas Air Park, a rundown field in Plano. I couldn't climb above it without losing sight of the ground (not okay if you're flying a trike). Yesterday, I waited out some cloud cover, but by the time I was in the air it still wasn't broken enough. I've got a lot of flying ahead of me still. With every delay I have to shift the schedule around again: looking at the calendar, we're in the final third of the route with about 19 days left. It's nice to breathe and I know I should be taking advantage of the rest., but I'm incredibly nervous. We're at Stephen's father's house. It's beautiful, and we're about to grill a steak dinner for the second night in a row. I'm stranded in Dallas, TX, which is easily the cushiest kind of "stranded" I've experienced so far. 10/14 As has become a common theme, I'm delayed once more, which is what gives me the time to detail some of my adventures.
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