1985-2016
Here are a few of my adventures as a pilot. Many of the stories involved dangerous or stupid things I did—and learned from!
Flying was my escape from the paranoia of the studio business. When flying your complete attention is on flying the plane. There is no time to worry about all the other bullshit.
Flying has been a wonderful hobby for me. It is challenging, relaxing, an escape, and has given me a whole new perspective of the U.S. I wish I had made notes all along the way but didn’t and so, is this my attempt to recount my many experiences, good and bad, stupid and smart and try to express my feelings about this important part of my life.
To begin with, I consider myself fortunate to be able to afford flying–although it is cheaper than many spend for other hobbies like boats or golf.
One of my favorite things to do was to take visiting guests and local friends on scenic flight of the LA area—over the San Fernando Valley, Malibu, UCLA, the city and even sometimes to Catalina Island. Roger Bobo, Harvey Phillips, Oystein Baadsvik and Mel Culberson were a few of my passengers.
I also flew to Mexico several times. But after I realized that criminals in Mexico could have easily stashed illegal drugs in my plane. I got worried about going through Customs on the return flights. If the inspectors (with their sniffing dogs) found any, I could have lost my license and plane. But the times I went there were fun for sure.
One of my favorite places to go when I had 2 or 3 days free was to do a one-hour flight to San Luis Obispo—a beautiful town near the beach in Central California. It is part of the Central Valley Wine District and has wonderful hotels, restaurants and, in my opinion, the best weather in the world. In 2009, after many years of doing this, I talked Jamie into us buying a beautiful 2 bedroom townhouse. It turned out to be a great deal due to the recent recession. We have been there 16 years now and it’s been a great investment. It will later go to our daughter, Yasmin. Now since I no longer fly we do the 3 hour drive up the California Coast whenever we have free time.
My flight instructor throughout my flying years was Alan Johnson. Alan was a fine Bass Trombone player who sat next to me on many ballet jobs. One day in 1985 he said, “I’m a FAA flight instructor. Would you be interested in taking a free flying lesson”. I said yes and he said come El Monte airport. We went up in a little Cessna 152. I sat in the left seat and took the plane off the ground myself. After that I was HOOKED! I soloed at 15 hours and a year later I had my Private Pilot Certificate. A year later my Instrument Rating. Alan was a great (and strict) teacher. After retiring from the music business in his 50s, he devoted his life to teaching flyng. His last years were spent as an FAA Inspector—an honor and a responsible job.
One of the great joys of flying was to see the incredible scenic places in America. I flew over, the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Mt. Rushmore, Niagara Falls, New York City and even Washington, DC (before it was restricted airspace after 9/11). I flew over lakes, oceans, deserts and mountains.
Learning to fly in the Southern Californa was special and the best place to learn to fly in a complex flying environment. If you can fly here you can fly anywhere! The area is super busy with over 50 airports—including large ones like LAX, BUR, ONT Long Beach and San Diego. Each airspace has restricted altitudes and flight patterns. It also has the Pacific Ocean and 12,000 foot mountains nearby.
Weather is always a very important consideration when flying. Wind can be very dangerous, rain, overcast skies and night flying too. After I had my Instrument Rating I was freed up to go almost anywhere—considering the weather, of course.
For many of my cross country flights, I just left without a determined plan. I often would look at a college or place where friends would be and call them and say. “Hey, I’m about 4 hours away. If I would buy you and your wife dinner would you give me a bed for the night”? In all of those many flights I rarely had to spend few nights in hotels.
Piper Arrow
I kept the 1970 Cessna for 3 years then in 1989 sold it for $20K and bought a 1973 Piper Arrow for $32.000. It was a low-wing plane, was faster and safer because it had retractable landing gear that automatically dropped if you got below 95 miles an hour when landing. I loved that plane and flew it for the rest of my flying years. I gradually upgraded it to include GPS and other modern radios and a few years later I had it repainted and had new windows and a new interior installed. It was like a NEW airplane. The paint was a beautiful green and gold on white. I also had a TUBA painted on the tail – and I changed the “N” numbers to 412BA (for one tu-ba).
In the early 2000’s I found myself so busy that I wasn’t flying the plane enough and the plane needed more activity and I needed help with the costs of the Whiteman hangar and annual inspection. So I got a 50% partner, David Foster to share the plane. He was a conscientious and picky pilot and I trusted him.
Some “Interesting Flights”
Solo
My first solo flight was one of the highlights of my life–a great sense of freedom and sense of accomplisment. I was taking a lesson with Alan Johnson at El Monte in Bartlett’s shaky Cessna 152. I had finished 15 hours of duel and, with no prior warning, Alan said it was my time to do 3 solo take-offs and landings. It all went great and has remained so for over 30 years.
First flight with Jamie
Right before I finished my Private ticket I bought a 1970 Red and White Cessna 172 – for $14,000. I took my test in that. Soon after I was now able to take passengers and asked Jamie to do a scenic fright with me. She didn’t know that it was my own airplane and imagined I just rented it at El Monte. We went west over the San Fernando Valley and when I reached altitude (6500 ft) I calmly told her that we owned the plane, no sooner than I said it the engine started “coughing”. We both had a momentary panic. I soon realized that I need to put on the pitot heat—as we got some icing in the carburetor. I pulled it on, and the rest of the flight was just “scenic”. I spent the next year with my instructor Alan working on my Instrument Rating in that 172. Jamie often flew with me.
Over clouds with Dan Brink
My old high school friend and his son visited me and I took them for a ride over El Monte. When I tried to return the cloud cover came over and I couldn’t get down to land. But I found a “hole” and spiraled down to land. It was stupid but we survived!
Gallup
In my 1st year (before I had finished my Instrument Rating) I decided to do my first long cross country. I arranged a few lessons with the great Rich Matteson and planned to fly to Denton, TX. My first fuel stop was in Gallop, NM. I got in there just ahead of a thunderstorm. Then Gallop was overcast and I could not fly for 3 days — waiting for the clear sky. I spent it in a fleabag hotel in that town where the police would round up the drunken Indians and put them in jail for the night (apparently something that happened every night in those days—it was sad). Well, I finally got out and proceeded to Dallas. I had trouble finding the Denton Airport and by accident found myself right over the huge DWF Airport—and I was too low to be there. I immediately climbed to over 10,000 ft and somehow avoided a citation from the FAA. I got 2 late lessons with Rich and flew home with perfect weather.
Minimum landing Bakersfield (IFR Cross Country)
On my long Instrument cross country check ride with Alan, he first took me to Bakersfield, CA where, on summer mornings, they had a peculiar weather phenomenon called “Tule Fog”. It covered the central valley at near ground level. I had to make a minimum altitude landing at 200 feet. It was scary and, at 200 feet could barely see the runway. I ended up nearly halfway down the long runway. But I was safe and Alan passed me. Another lesson learned.
Flight Home with Brother Joe
After I got my Instrument Rating, I was free to go anywhere. Over the next 20 or so years I flew across America 8 times—landing in or flying over all but two of the states—Florida and North Dakota. I flew alone mostly or with a Tuba or my Fluba. On returning on my 1st trip (in my Cessna), I spent some time in Toledo with my brother Joe. I talked him into flying back to LA with me. We stopped in Rock Springs, WY to visit with our sister Barbara and her husband Dutch. We then had a beautiful flight down the Green River (sometimes below the cliffs on each side). We saw Monument Valley then the Grand Canyon. That was before private planes were banned below 200 feet above the rim—due to mid-air crashes with tourist helicopters.
Parkersburg Landing
On one of my flights back east I planned a fuel stop in Parkersburg, WV. I was on an instrument flight plan expecting the ILS approach. Just before I got there controllers told me that the ILS was down for repairs but would be fixed shortly. They had me circling for a while and finally cleared me for the approach. I was on my GPS and pretty sure that I was following the correct approach—and the controllers were with me all the way. But when I broke out of the clouds at 400 feet I was PAST the airport. I did a circle to the runway and landed. To this day I don’t know what happened. I suspect the ILS was still on the fritz.No one ever contacted me from the FAA. But I could have died if there had been obstructions or hills ahead of me.
Near Miss
I was flying back from the NAMM Show with Keije Sone as my passenger. Keije designed my Yamaha 822 F, my Jimbasso and my Selfone. We were in the Special Flight Rules corridor exiting northbound at 4500 ft near Santa Monica when another plane passed me at the same altitude going southbound. It was the closest near-miss I have ever had. That transition areas at the ends of the corridor are especially dangerous.
With Norm to Colorado
One summer I was invited to be a guest artist at Summit Brass when it was up in the Colorado Rockies. My former student and then Principal Tuba of the L.A. Phil went with me—I was still flying my Cessna. On the way back I misjudged the distances between airports with fuel. I remember running out of gas in one tank on final and the other one seconds before I landed. Another lesson learned. (On another flight to Colorado I landed at Leadville, at 9900 hundred feet, the highest airport in North America. Taking off took almost the entire 10,000 foot runway).
Aerobatics
After I had my Instrument Ticket, I decided NOT to get multi-engine or Commercial ratings due to the costs involved, but I did decide to take a 12-hour, mid-level aerobatics course – mainly to be able to feel safer with spins, flip overs and other accidental things that could happen. I flew over to nearby Santa Paula Airport where they rented Citabria planes and got Rich Stoval, a famous aerobatics showman, as my teacher. He was tough but thorough. We did all the main maneuvers like spins, rolls, hammerheads, immelmanns and upside down flight. Each lesson was about 45 minutes and, while I never got sick. I always was nauseous. Every time we landed he pulled off the gas and made me do a “dead stick” landing from downwind. For the final test I had to map out and perform a 20 minute show that included several maneuvers. The result was I felt much safer flying after that course.
Ground Loop
I decided to try to do some solo aerobatics, but the FBO required me to get 25 hours in a tail-dragger before letting me do solo work. One day I went to Santa Paula (again with Norm Pearson as a passenger). I rented a Citabria and planned to practice landings at nearby small airports. Tail-draggers require a difficult landing three-point procedure. When we landed at Santa Ynez, I messed it up and we went into a ground loop which spun us suddenly around and we bounced a bit too. It was scary! I got out and checked the plane for any damage and didn’t see any and we returned to Santa Paula. But after paying for the rental and getting in my Arrow, a man came out and said that I had bent the spring landing gear. It cost me–the $1000 insurance guarantee. Well, that was the last time I ever flew a tail dragger or pursued solo aerobatics.
Knoxville Downtown
I had planned to make a Jazz CD in Knoxville with my old faculty colleague Bill Scarlett. Bill was the Clarinet professor at UT and a great Jazz Tenor Sax man. So, I decided for me and my Fluba to fly from LA to Knoxville. It was a long day of flying. At 9 PM I reached Little Rock where I had planned to spend the night. When I checked the weather, I saw that a thunderstorm was coming in and decided to push on to Knoxville. So, it became my longest one-day flight ever—14 hours. I decided to fly to the Downtown Knoxville airport, located on an island in in the Tennessee River. I arrived about 1 AM and the airport was closed. This was right after 9/11/01 and the FAA required that all American airports be fenced in and entrances and exits required permission to use. Basically, I could NOT get out of the airport. My cell phone was dead and the fence was too high to climb over. After an hour wait the police came by and let me out and called Scarlett to come pick me up. It was a grueling time. But we recorded a cool CD with Bills young local rhythm section (Size Matters).
Mosquitos
On one flight somewhere in the hot and humid south I got into my plane in the morning, took off and soon discovered that, in the few minutes pre-flighting the plane, hundreds of mosquitos had gotten into the cockpit. I spent a lot of time killing them while trying to fly. The plane was a mess after that and took a lot of cleaning—to say nothing of the bites I got. I HATE humid weather and it was a great motivator for me to move to California.
Alaska
One summer I spent playing and teaching at a Music Festival in Fairbanks, Alaska. I decided to take a lesson in a floatplane. The instructor had his 1947 Taylor Craft docked in the Yukon River by his home. He had to hand prop the thing and quickly jump in – very risky! I learned the procedures for taking off and landing a floatplane. It was fun. I tried to rent a Piper Arrow in Fairbanks for a scenic flight. They said I could do it but it would cost $850 an hour—basically saying (because of the unpredictable weather in Alaska) NO!!!
A few years later I flew with another floatplane pilot on the Allegheny River in Rockmere (near my hometown of Oil City, PA). I owned some riverfront land there for a few years.
Spain
After playing and teaching in Porto, Portugal, Jamie and I did a cruise of the Mediterranean Sea from Rome to Athens and back. Before that we spent 3 days in Barcelona, Spain as tourists. There we hung out with Pablo Fernandez who, at the time, was principal tuba with the Barcelona Symphony. He was also a pilot and member of a flying club where he could rent planes. He took me for a scenic flight in a 172 up over the Pyrenees Mtns and down the Costa Del Sol. When we got back to the FBO they tore off my tee shirt off and signed it like when I did my 1st solo. They also gave me a logbook entry that I had flown in Spain. I have an Eastern Spain Area pilot’s map framed in my bedroom at out townhouse in San Luis Obispo. Great memory!
Australia
One January (their summer) I was a guest artist at a Low Brass Festival in Bright, Australia (their Alps for skiing in the Winter). I got to do a scenic area flight in the co-pilot seat with a local pilot in his 172. We took off from his home grass strip. It like my other “foreign” flights helped make my flying experiences so much fun!
Pacific Symphony
My best friend,mBill Booth and I carpooled to the Pacific Symphony (50 miles away) for several years. We were Principal trombone and tuba there. Bill was also an instrument rated pilot and checked out in my Piper. So, many times we would fly together from Burbank to John Wayne Airports to rehearsals and concerts. It was fun, fast and COOL!
CD Covers
Over the years flying has affected my music making. I have named pieces and movements with flying terms. I have pictures of my planes on 3 of my CDs:
New Stuff, my 2nd jazz CD has a cover shot of me flying over Big Bear Lake where we could get mountains and lake all in one shot. The photographer (in another rented 172), used a “Star Filter” so he could get a star shine on my Yamaha 621 F Tuba—which was in the co-pilot seat. But when the CD company accidentally used the NEGATIVE of the shot it reversed the image and so the cover has the tuba in the pilot’s seat and me in the co-pilot seat. It’s still kind of COOL!
Flying Circus, the Brass Music of Jim Self CD, the cover has an artist’s drawing of 412BA with the tuba on the tail. It is a recording of all eight of my classical Brass Quintets. The title is also the name of one of the quintets—and its 3 movements are flying terms: Barnstorming, Castles in the Sky and Wing Ding.
Touch and Go is a Jazz Quintet CD released in 2022. The title is a pilot term for practicing take offs and landings without wasting time taxiing back. One of my originals on the CD is the title tune Touch and Go.
Fallbrook story:
I wrote this and it was published in the AOPA Pilot magazine monthly column: “Never Again”. They gave me $100 for the article! ”I Learned About Flying From That”. It was titled “Flying in Three Quarter Time”
In the fall of 1987 I had been a pilot for nearly three years, had an instrument rating, 550 total hours and owned l970 Cessna l72. I am a professional musician and planned a flight to Fallbrook, Ca. to perform a symphony concert on a Sunday evening with an earlier stop at Oceanside for a matinee concert. My passenger, a prominent Southern California musician, loved to fly with me but was not a pilot.
I had flown into Fallbrook many times and understood its shortcomings. It is a short field (2165 ft.), sits on top of a mesa with drops at both ends of the runway. As a student pilot my instructor took me there to demonstate short field maneuvers and the optical illusion created by a short runway, on a mesa with a bow in the middle. It is an uncontrolled field with pilot activated lighting and had recently been assigned an instrument departure–but no approach. Fallbrook is located 35 nm north of San Diego and ll nm inland from the Pacific Coast at Oceanside. It also abuts a restricted area at Camp Pendleton Marine Air Station making it illegal and dangerous to fly a pattern west of runway l8/36That morning I got a weather briefing that called for clear weather for the day with possible scattered clouds after l0 PM. San Diego is the nearest forecasting station for the Fallbrook area. At l0:30 AM I loaded my Tuba and formal clothes into my Cessna l72 at Burbank airport near my home. It is a terrific airplane which I had flown several hundred hours including many hours of actual instrument weather and two trips over the Rockies and back East. It is also well equipped for instrument flying. The day was beautiful with 25 miles visability–great for the Los Angeles basin. My first stop was at Fullerton where my passenger picked me up for a rehearsal.
Afterwards we returned, I got another weather update which confirmed the earlier one and we left Fullerton for Oceanside. It was gorgeous for our flight down the California Coast with l0,000 ft. mountain peaks in the distance and beautiful seaside cliffs and beaches below. We first landed at Oceanside where the symphony performed at a local college and returned to the Oceanside airport about 5 PM. The sun was going down and the coastal clouds were beginning to form. Fallbrook was only a l0 min. flight away and the weather was most likely to be the same there. If it got worse later, I felt comfortable that I could fly the published departure–in fact I was looking forward to it. As we flew inland the haze became more dense and I had to use VOR’s and DME to find the field and to make sure I didn’t fly into Camp Pendleton. Because of the haze I didn’t see the field soon enough to execute a good pattern approach and being too high opted for a go around. The special circumstances at Fallbrook airport leave no room for errors in altitude or airspeed. The second attempt was a success.
At l0 PM after our concert we came ouside to find the entire area in real pea-soup fog–near zero visibility. The next series of decisions on my part were a combination of over confidence and stupidity. Since the field was on a mesa several hundred feet above the surrounding valley I thought the visability might be better. The short drive there was very difficult, and the runway was fogged in too. I called San Diego Flight Service on the pay phone. They assured me it was local fog, maybe 2000-3000 ft. tops but that a front was coming in the early morning with rain, wind and icing. I had a recording session Monday morning and wanted to fly out that night if at all possible. While my passenger waited, I did a practice run down the runway to see if I could see the center line all the way. It was difficult but I could and resolved to leave. I returned to the phone and filed an instrument departure and flight to Fullerton. I accepted a fifteen minute window for departure which was a mistake–there was too much to prepare in such a short time. My Jeppeson chart showed a simple procedure if I used runway l8. It is slightly more uphill than 36 but there was no wind and I had made several flights from Fallbrook at night with heavier loads and never used more that 3/4 of the runway. Rushing to do everything and make my void time I paused at the end of l8 only to find my window fogged. I shut down, pulled on the hand brake, got out and cleaned the windscreen. Getting back in I proceeded with my roll out– keeping the center line off one side because my plane has landing lights only on the left wing. It seemed to take forever to get up the necessary speed to lift off and, as I saw the end of the runway I jerked back the yoke to get it into the air. The stall warning came on and I lowered the nose. Thank heavens the airport was on a mesa–I needed to go down to build airspeed. I recovered only to find myself in a steep bank to the right (toward Camp Pendleton). Quickly I corrected that error, got back on my assigned vectors and climbed out toward Oceanside VOR. In my haste I had forgotten to have the departure frequency dialed in and the enroute map was still in my briefcase in the rear seat. We were still in IMC at 5000 ft. as I scrambled to contact San Diego Departure, find the correct map with a flashlight, and control the airplane. My passenger was unable to help and I found out later that he was having a great adventure. We broke out of the clouds over Oceanside and I could finally relax. It had been a challenging and frightening l0 minutes. A few miles up the coast it was VFR and the trip back to Fullerton and Burbank was uneventful. It was when I landed a Fullerton to leave off my passenger that I discovered my difficulty in taking off at Fallbrook–my hand brake was still on!!!
This a detailed account of my last long Cross Country flight in 2004.
Well, this was the longest of my long cross country flights-three weeks, 58 hours of flying. The music business in LA is so bad this summer so I just split and, as is my usual way, I improvised my way–calling ahead to friends and family a day or two ahead and seeing them if they were home. In three weeks I spent only 4 nights in hotels. I got a late start and flew only 3 hours the first day and spent a night in a red-neck motel at Bryce Canyon. Saw the Canyon the next morning on take off. Flying next to Aspen where I planned a night with Warren and Marsha Deck. Flying in the ATIS said no tie downs for single engine planes. I thought I would have to gas up and leave but they found an over night spot for me. Aspen is beautiful and the most expensive place I have ever been. The Decks were most gracious and I heard a concert at the Tent. The next morning was a beautiful one to fly over the rockies (over Denver) and on to Waterloo, IA to spend a night with Jeff Funderburk. Jeff is a wonderful tuba soloist and we had a nice evening together. Next AM I flew partial IFR and right over O’Hare to suburban Detroit to Mary Lou and Keith Boyd’s—my old high school friends. I was held on the ground the next AM because Dubya was in town and there was a TFR. Then flew IFR over Detroit and southern Lake Erie, over Cleveland and to Pennsylvania. Before landing in Franklin I circled my home town, Oil City, my lot at Rockmere on the Allegheny River and my 2nd grade farmhouse outside of Fryburg. The next three days were spent in OC with the Brinks (while lots of weather passed through). I checked out Rockmere played with a local mickey band at Justice Park and saw friends.
I then flew IFR to Burlington VT to see Andy Malloy at his Lake Champlain “mansion”. The weather improved so, after gassing up at Burlington I called the little private grass field in Westport N.Y. (one mile from Andy’s place) and got permission to land there. The owner was an 80+ pilot from WWII. He showed me the wreckage of an experimental plane that “bought the farm” the day earlier. The experienced pilot, a professor, was doing aerobatics and got into a flat spin–very sad. Andy met me and I spent the next 2 days at his 100 year-old lake front house–a very neat and peaceful place and about as far away from living in LA as I can think. Andy flew with me over to Maine to pay a visit to the New England Music Camp. I had spent a summer there in 1970 as the tuba teacher and wanted to revisit it and see it from the air. It is on a picturesque lake outside of Waterville. On the way over we flew over his hometown in New Hampshire. We were met in Waterville by the current tuba teacher and spent a few hours seeing the camp and friends. We flew back to the grass strip, I left Andy off and flew on to Albany for the night. I watched John Kerry’s convention acceptance speech (first TV in several days).
The next AM I flew down the Hudson River right over New York City. I was over 10,000 ft to avoid restricted airspace and it was quite cloudy, but I could see some of that amazing city. I was amazed to learn that there is a VFR Corridor right down the Hudson at 1500—right past the 9/11 tragedy sight. Past the NYC Harbor I continued down the Jersey shore to the tip of that state, Cape May, landed at the local airport and spent a night at Wildwood on the south shore. My long-time friend Don Little was visiting his mother and his childhood home. I had a terrific day at the beach, great meal of corn and tomatoes and enjoyed his very nice family. The next morning I flew Don and his two kids up the coast to get fuel at Ocean City. We got some great views of Wildwood et al. My plan had been to fly across PA and OH to my brother Joe’s house but a line of thunderstorms made me change my plans. Instead I diverted over Chesapeake Bay and Baltimore to see Bob and Fifi Pallansch in the Washington, DC suburb of Falls Church. Bob and I were tuba players in The U.S. Army Band. Bob met me at the Leesburg, VA airport. It had been many years since I flew in the DC area. The entire region is a Post 9/11 Flight Restricted area and I flew IFR to avoid the (almost impossible) VFR hassles. I was great seeing the Pallansches. They (like many on this trip) listened to just-mixed cuts from my new CD.
The next morning, after an IFR departure, flew across Ohio to Toledo. It was a wonderfully clear day. I could almost see from the Ohio River to Lake Erie. I spent 2 days with Joe and Carolyn–eating more corn and tomatoes. While there I had an oil change done to 412BA–the only maintenance needed on this long trip. One of the highlights of this vacation was the night I spent at Murphy’s Jazz Club. My brother Joe takes guitar lessons with a Toledo jazz guitarist. He set it up for me to sit in with the ‘house duo” at Murphy’s. I had my FLUBA with me and we had a great jam session. The great piano player Claude Black is a regular there. Also sitting in was a terrific, blind, Alto player who played like Bird.
The next morning saw another clear day of flying due south to Cookeville, TN. I spent a night there with my dear friends Winston and Bobbie Morris. Winston was kind enough to listen carefully to my new CD, InnerPlay and help me with the tune order. He is a real special.
With that visit I began the long western trek back to Los Angeles. My immediate plan was to head toward Eugene, OR to visit Louise and Burnie at their new house. Taking off from Shelby County airport I checked the GPS and saw that it was a mind numbing 1780 knots to Eugene–now that’s a long way. The next three days each had some serious and somewhat scary flying challenges. As always, I was careful to get briefings. I had hoped to get to the Denver area that 1st night. There were scattered thunderstorms all across the plains but I was confident I could avoid them or land. Fuel management is always important on long cross-country flights. I used to fly 4 hours (with 4 1/2 usable fuel) but some close calls with fuel exhaustion in my earlier flying years taught me not to go over 3 1/2 hours now. I don’t trust gas tank gauges.
Throughout this 3-week trip I spent a great deal of time navigating and using the Loran and GPS. As hip as the GPS can be I still found myself using the Loran a lot. Some of the data stored in it isn’t reliable anymore and I am sorry the FAA is phasing it out. It’s a great back-up. Also the signals were often more reliable on the Loran.
Anyway, my first fuel stop was to be Columbia, MO. I got the ATIS and called in 10 miles out to land. The controller said you’re not landing here as a big thunderstorm was almost on the airport. The “nearest airport” function got me a heading to Jefferson City–dodging clouds all the way. I landed there only minutes before a huge TS hit. The FBO was very gracious and put my plane in a hanger for the 1 1/2 hours I was there. It saved potential damage from some hail. There were several private pilots there waiting out the storm– they had big vats of ice cream from which they gave us big bowls– a very homey thing I’ve never seen at an FBO. Jeff. City is the capital and 412BA shared a hanger with the governor’s planes.
After the weather cleared, I flew westbound and spent a night in Salina, Kansas. Now that is a flat boring place unless you are a cow.
I called ahead and arranged to meet an old friend, Rodger Vaughan who was retired in the Colorado Springs area. We met in this little rural airport and had lunch. After failing to reach my sister in Rock Springs, WY I still decided to try to get there and hope she might be home. It was two hours from the Denver area to Rock Springs through the pass near Cheyenne. I had flown this route at least 3 other times but took some unnecessary risks this time that, in retrospect, could have had serious consequences. When you are flying all over the country it is difficult to have all the sectionals, WACS and IFR maps to cover every part. Some overlap and some have “gaps” on certain headings. I was aware that there were scattered thunderstorms on my route but felt confident that I could avoid them. Well, the combination of high terrain, spotty Loran and GPS signals, incomplete maps, and gaps in radio coverage got me scared. As I neared the Rock Springs area I saw a large front of TS cells on my heading so I decided to divert south and try to get in behind the storms. When I tried I got into some serious wind and immediately reversed course. Fuel was getting low but alternate airports in Wyoming are very far apart. My GPS was again working so I found some alternate airports and head for one and then another each time diverting because of storms. I was getting worried about the fuel and headed to Vernal, Utah about 50 more miles. When a few miles out I saw a cell over that airport but needed to land soon and headed in. As I got close, I saw the cell was past and had an uneventful landing. Thanks to my choice to be conservative about fuel consumption I found I had over an hour left–but still glad to be safe on the ground, The FBO man lent me a car and I spent the night in downtown Vernal–a very Mormon town–very nice people.
The next morning was gorgeous as I headed NE towards Eugene. In order to get the best heading, the first part of my flight was over some serious mountains—east of Salt Lake City. I had to fly up to 13,000 feet briefly and a lot of 12,500 to get over them. I had some unusual senses during this flight. I am always looking for places to land should I have engine failure and in remote high terrain even more so. Even if I could land on a road or rare flat area, the walk out could be daunting with possible bears and wolves–boy the western mountains are serious challenges. Past the ridges I skirted the Great Salt Lake and continued NW on this beautiful day to a refueling stop in suburban Boise, Idaho.
I had a brief lunch on a picnic table with a couple who were, by chance, flying to Eugene too. We got a briefing together and knew that it was clear over the route until the mountains east of Eugene and we might have to file IFR to get into Eugene. Eastern Oregon is really desolate country. The three-hour flight was uneventful until I saw the mountain obscuration. At first thinking maybe I could get under the clouds I soon realized how serious the Coastal Range really is, so I climbed above the clouds hoping to stay VFR til I got over Eugene, which was scattered. Well the clouds kept getting higher and I was at 12,500 and decided to file IFR. The controller told me to climb to 13,000 and remain VFR. After a few minutes if this I really felt the effects of the altitude–more than I ever had before. I was worried that I might get hypoxia and when I thought I was over the ridges I asked for lower altitude which really made me feel better but put me in the clouds over some serious mountains. ATC slowly brought me down in broken clouds over spectacular mountains and green forests and rivers to a beautiful landing at Eugene. I had been here several times in the past but never from the east. The latch on my oil door was broken on this flight and blowing in the wind. Somewhere up in those mountains the door broke off. It wasn’t in any way dangerous but frustrating to have to replace that small item. It was painted with three colors and would be expensive to repaint to preserve the beauty of my wonderful plane. That oil door was the only mechanical problem I had on this entire trip.
After spending a couple of days in Eugene seeing my cousin Betty and friends Burnie and Louise (and their spectacular new home on the McKensie River) I flew down to see Jerry Grant in Grants Pass, CA. I never reached him on the phone so I just planned a fuel stop. Several miles out I notice a big forest fire near Grants Pass and reported it to the controllers. When I got to the area there were several water tankers landing and taking off—big honkin’ planes. I tried calling the on the CTAF but no reply. So I circled the airport to see the windsock. Those tankers were landing both ways on that mountain top airport. I got in that dangerous mix. I had to land for fuel was low. When I finally got down and went to the ramp the guys at the FBO really reamed me out. Here they had a new frequency and I had a dated map or AOPA book or loran. (another lesson). I never did reach Jerry. I flew on to Groveland, another nearby mountain airport. I spent the night in the old gold mining era Groveland Hotel (1849) with a wonderful bed and excellent food.
The next day was my uneventful final leg to Whiteman in LA. It was the end of 58 hours flying over a three-week period and was easily my longest cross country. I went from Coast to Coast to Coast and everywhere in between. California to Maine to Jersey Shore to Tennessee to Oregon. I made several errors which I hope I have learned from.
I have made 8 flights across the US in my flying years. The only area not traveled is Florida and North Dakota. I can close my eyes and picture all kinds of terrain below me. I have a real geographical understanding of the whole country and a real appreciation of the weather and terrain challenges in our huge and amazing country. After learning to fly in Los Angeles I have never been awed by the complexities of big city flying or mountains but instrument flying is a really complex and a daily exercise for pilots “back east”.
Flying is a very special, life affirming activity that remains very important to me—and never more so than on this trip! (written several year later).
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In 2016 I went off my blood thinner to get a colonoscopy for 5 days. The night before I was to resume, I had a minor stroke. It changed my life. The stroke was mild and I was back at work in one day, but the FAA cancelled my Pilot’s Medical and I had to quit flying for 2 years, then take a battery of stress, neurological and blood test to reapply for my Medical. The stress and hassles with the FAA combined with the ongoing expenses of half an airplane were too much for me to deal with. I was 73 and knew I would not have too much longer to fly, so I quit. A while later my partner bought out my half of the plane. He is still flying good ol’ Piper 412BA with a Tuba on the tail!
I will always miss my years of flying. It has enriched my live so much and gave me confidence doing something as difficult as music.
Below is the last photo I took as a pilot. I had left SLO, on a morning Instrument departure, to return to my hangar at Whiteman Field. This is just as I popped out on top of the overcast. The Iphone x]camera is so fast that it appears to stop the propeller from turning and the blade tips seem bent. It’s a great FINAL flying memory of all that was great in those 31 years.
To begin with, I consider myself fortunate to be able to afford flying–although it is cheaper than many spend for other hobbies like boats or golf. From the 1st time humans saw the birds they yearned to be able to fly. Thanks to the Wright Brothers and others, those of us who lived in the 20th Century were the 1st to be able to fly. I felt that I HAD to experience that!
Jim Self
Los Angeles
4/6/25