Thin Air

 I'm reading The Oregon Trail, A New American Journey, by Rinker Buck.  Buck and his younger brother, Nick, followed the Oregon Trail in a wagon, like the ones used by the early pioneers.

I just reached the part of the story where they are crossing the lowest point on the Western Continental Divide and spending lots of time above 7,000 feet elevation.  Buck discusses an incident when he watered their mules and then left one of their 3 water buckets and a ladder behind on the trail.  He attributes this absent mindedness to the hubris and euphoria of hypoxia.

If you have read my blog to this point, you know a little of my experience hiking and skiing at higher elevations.  Of course, I also had some experience at high altitudes and high cabin altitudes in airplanes.  For clarification, I distinguish elevation, altitude and cabin altitude in this way.  An elevation is the height of a point on the ground above Mean Sea Level (MSL).  Altitude is a height above MSL in the air.  Cabin altitude is the equivalent altitude in a pressurized airplane.  For example, a pressurized airplane flying above 30,000 feet would have a cabin altitude equivalence of about 7,500 to 8,000 feet.  The air density in the cabin would be the same as that at those altitudes.

The Mount Whitney Trail, which I have hiked several times, begins at 8,300 ft. and goes to the summit at 14,500 ft. elevation.  I have flown airplanes as high as 41,000 ft. (rarely) with cabin altitudes between 8 and 9 thousand feet.  Most flying of jets is done in the 30 to 39 thousand foot range.  

During the early years of my flying career, I flew only two types of pressurized planes.  Almost all of my flying time was in unpressurized airplanes.

The one experience I was reminded of by Rinker Buck's tale of euphoria on the Oregon Trail was very early in my 5 years flying for Graham Aviation FBO in Butler PA.  I was trying to build flying time and experience and always looking for ways to do so.  Technically, I was still married to a flight attendant for Allegheny Airlines and able to fly with a  non-revenue pass.  We were a Piper dealer and the single engine planes we sold were made in Vero Beach Florida.  They then had to be flown to Butler.  That is where I put all of the above together and told the boss I wanted to travel to Vero Beach and fly a new Warrior back.

It has been a while since that trip, early in my career, but what I remember about it was my first personal exposure to the effects of high altitude euphoria, which can be deadly.

I had flown planes back from Vero Beach before.  Jim, BS and I brought 2 Cherokee 140s back, when I was still a student, working on my commercial license.  I learned about the range capabilities of these planes and knew I would have to stop for fuel, at least once.  I think the Warriors range was a little more than the Cherokee's but would still have to stop for fuel.  The best place to do that was before I began crossing the Appalachian Mountains, somewhere in North Carolina.  Options thin out until the border of West By God Virginia and Pennsylvania.  I had thought about this long and hard and knew this was the smart move, when I was on the ground.

Unfortunately, we had this thing called the 1973 Oil Crisis.  Fixed Base Operators (FBO), where struggling to get enough Avgas for airplanes.  They are the gas stations for general aviation flying across the country.  This was before the internet and getting information about availability was not easily available.  Typically, you could call them on the radio to ask about fuel availability, except that the plane I was ferrying had no radios.  They would be installed by our shop, when I arrived at Butler Graham.

I had planned where I would stop.  I don't remember which airport, but it was not one that required radio communication with Air Traffic Control.  To extend the range, I decided to fly at 12,500 feet.  Piston engine planes get a higher true air speed and burn less fuel at higher altitudes, to a point.  By regulation, 12,500 ft. was the highest altitude I could fly without supplemental oxygen or pressurization.  As I neared my planned airport, I checked fuel quantities and thought I could continue farther.  After some time, I was beginning to see the mountains to the north. I suddenly realized that I must have been experiencing euphoria from my time at 12,500.  It hit me like a baseball bat.  I was beginning to think I could extend all the way to Butler.  That was probably a very fortunate and unusual realization, for someone in that situation.  I checked the map for the nearest airport at which I could land and began my descent, getting smarter with each 1,000 feet. 

I think it was Mount Airy, North Carolina, but would have to check my logbook to be sure and it is currently 1000 miles away.  I got refueled, probably got something to refuel myself and flew the rest of the trip without incident.  

When I would tell my parents about trips like this, they were always shocked to learn that you could fly around the country like this without getting permission and talking to someone all the time.  God Bless the good ol' USA, for as long as we can keep it, which is not looking very promising at this time.