Fetch The Werle Bird

Friday, February 8 2002

Jim and I met at 3pm at Palo Alto, CA (PAO), caught a ride to San Jose, CA (SJC) and played the secuity-that-isn't-really-security-but-fakes-it-by-taking-a-very-long-time game to get on United to take us to Denver, CO (DEN). It was about 5 1/2 hours for the trip.

Saturday, February 9 2002

The airplane's prior owner, Frank, picked us up at our hotel at 8am sharp, and drove us to Denver's Front Range airport (FTG). We stopped first at Frank's spacious, heated hangar. While we admired the new airplane, we were actually drooling copiously over the hangar. Complete with 'fridge, air compressors, sofa, desk, etc., it was enough to make most Bay Area pilots swoon.
So how's the weather? The weather channel had been talking up "high winds" for the front range, and boy, were they right for a change! It wasn't too bad early in the morning, but it quickly started to howl. And then the wind really picked up.

The forecasts called for it to slow down a little in the early afternoon, so we settled into the terminal to wait it out. But not only didn't it calm down, it got progressively worse. The building shook, the dust blew the visibility down to less than 1/4 mile at times, and the tumbleweeds could have been pulled over for speeding. It wasn't just windy, it was windy all day. The wind speed meter in the FBO never got below 30, and was often over 40, as shown in the picture. It was better down around Pueblo, but we had to get past Colorado Springs, and it was even worse there, as they also had clouds and snow.

One pilot came in all day. He was bringing his newly purchased Bellanca Super Viking home. We met him at the door to get a fresh PIREP, asking "Did you just land?". He said, "Are you from the FAA?" After he described his flight from Amarillo, we concluded he was looking to meet Darwin. A fellow who drove him to his car over at DEN said they had to stop several times due to poor visibility.

We hung around waiting for it to improve, watching the forecasts get amended time after time, until it did finally clear a bit about 1/2 hour before sunset. We decided to take a risk on the clear and (relatively) calm forecasts for Sunday and headed back to a hotel.

Sunday, February 10 2002

We hit the pavement soon after sunset, and for once the forecasts were correct; it was fairly calm and absolutely gorgeous. After preflighting in the heated hangar, Jim pulled his new mount into the cold morning air for the first time: We buttoned up the hangar, took one last squirt, and departed FTG's runway 17 straight out bound for, most likely Alebquerque, NM's Double Eagle airport. Our plan was to get familiar with the new bird while flying down the relatively benign terrain east of the Rocky Mountains, pictured here behind Colorado Springs, CO.

We quickly discovered that despite our best efforts, that which happens on most first flights of the day was happening. We both had to pee. So we decided to set down at Las Vegas, NM (LSV). A place less like it's Nevada counterpart would be hard to find. The bathrooms were clean, the gas truck sputtered and ground it's way over, and the oil level had barely budged, so we decided we'd had a fine first 2.0 hours in '94B. Plus, it looks good with Jim:

After LSV we headed west towards Bullhead City, AZ (IFP). We were fortunate (especially for this time of year) to find ourselves in tailwinds of close to 20 knots, and we were making 185 knots across the ground most of the way at 12,500', on 12.5 gph, getting about 165 KTAS. We couldn't have found a cloud if we'd had to. We could see the Spanish Peak (I think that was it's name) north of Flagstaff, AZ from 150 nautical miles away. And on top of all this, the ride was baby-bottom smooth except for the odd isolated bump.

The bird was working nearly perfectly, with only a couple of minor squawks; the least of any airplane I've ever helped pick up. Its last two annuals were at Ken Pearce's shop in CO. Ken is a guru of Bonanzas, often helping out at BPPP events, giving people the benefit of his many years of v-tail experience, and his work shows on '94B. After 3.0 even, we shut down in Arizona.

We didn't like IFP. No food on the field, so we caught the free boat shuttle across the river to a casino in Laughlin, NV for lunch. It was like all the seedy types who used to dominate Las Vegas (NV this time) had been transplanted en mass. Stale cigarette smoke and bad teeth in front of every slot machine. The FBO didn't even have a bathroom. We had to walk to a Chevron station to use the smelly, busted-up men's room. We only saw a small part of it, but if the airport is anything to go by, I'm going to cross the Hayward air races off my list.

For our final leg PAO we went almost direct, getting cleared through Restricted area 2505, and climbing briefly above 12,500' to clear the Sierras. Things were popping at PAO, as usual for a Sunday afternoon, with lots of people getting sent to Stanford to hold, but we lucked out and got invited in even before we got to Stanford, arriving with another 3.0 even in the airplane.

We ended up with 8.0 flight hours (three even legs in a row!) on the trip, and then Jim found out that the burly Bo is a bit more of a handful to push back than his Cherokee 180! I'm sure Jim, like many before him, will enjoy his forked-tail doctor killer on many new adventures.