CHASING A DREAM
Copyright all rights reserved Brad Lindsay 2006
The elusive Pincate volcano in Mexico, shown here in a satellite photograph is the largest geological event in the Northern Hemisphere. Located 25 miles inland from the Sea of Cortez just North of Puerto Penasco Mexico, this remote volcanic field measures an astounding 30 miles across and as can be seen here is dotted with vents, lava flows and deep craters of all sizes.
So unlike any other place on earth is this region that NASA chose this area to train the Apollo astronauts prior to leaving for the moon. It's this unique landscape, the incredible opportunities for capturing images and my insatiable desire to understand geology and how it affected the planet which has been the driving force behind my desire to want to know more.
I first became aware of the Pinacate during one my many trips to Pensaco and stopped at the park station along side the road which has flyers and information about this volcano. Entering Pinacate National Park, a 2,000 square kilometer volcanic field in the northwest corner of the Sonoran desert from the North off Mexican Highway 2 on the way to Penasco. For years, I drove past this incredibly diverse volcano without even knowing what it was. From ten miles away, while driving past it, one would assume it's just a shallow mountain range when in fact is a huge, round molten lava flow. Cinder cones and craters created largely by wet pyroclastic surges dot the landscape which makes up the Pinacate.
FIRST TRIP
I first experienced the Pinacate totally by accident. A friend and I were driving through the back roads of Mexico to Puerto Penasco to fly down the beach and spend several leisurely days basking in the sun. During the trip, my passenger was looking for relief when we spotted official park like buildings scattered together. Thinking a restroom would be available I wheeled into the gravel parking lot amid signs and posters of the surrounding area. Upon exiting the car I was drawn into the park building. In here were images on the wall of the landscape of the Pinacate and the related warnings about visiting the park such as the remoteness, snakes and scorpions. Undaunted by these warnings we exited the the park station both intrigued and excited about knowing more about the volcano. Turns out we are standing next to the largest national park reserve in all of Mexico.
"Say, I've got a great idea! Rather than drive the 22 mile winding road that leads to the volcano, why not head down the road a few miles, set up the airplane and fly over?" We both concurred that would far better than driving a two wheeled van through 4x4 deserts roads. We thanked our providers of comfort and in so 20 minutes later found us deep into the desert towards the lava flow setting up the airplane.
Fuel: check
Warm clothes: check
Flight plan....uh....
Water: check.
10 minutes after taking off from the flat, barren desert, the incredible landscape of the Pinacate unfolded like pages in a lost National Geographic magazine. Black and red cinder cones dotted the flow and off in the distance loomed a huge sink hole crater, the Crater Elgante, drew my attention.
Crater Elegante is a 1.6 kilometer diameter depression outwardly resembling a maar volcano, rising only about 50 meters above the surrounding desert. Carbon-14 dating from deposits from a lake formed after a collapse puts a minimum age for the small caldera at about 12,000 to 17,000 years. It reaches a depth of 244 meters. It is estimated that the volume of material ejected during the culminating eruptions was at least 162,200,000 cubic meters!
I spotted a small road leading to the edge of the caldron and flew over to see if it was landable. Having a favorable headwind and being uphill weighed heavily towards a decision to setting up an approach on the narrow winding trail leading to the edge of the crater. A successful landing behind us we ventured to the edge of this immense hole in the earth and shared the sunset, watching the shadows grow towards the
horizon.
One of effects of watching a sunset is a distortion in time, space and judgment and we both had to come to grips with having to leave this incredible point in time and return to reality. Distracted by the views on the way to the crater, important things like sunlight, gasoline and safety soon become a top priority. Needing to climb several thousand feet at full throttle to clear the top of the Pinacate and make it back to the safety of the flat desert left precious little fuel left from the full five gallon tank we took off with. Dexa kept me aware of how little fuel we had left and I didn't need a passenger to tell me we were quickly running out of light.
The desert we took off from was still over ten miles away and the headlights from cars on the distant highway to Penasco were now visible streaming towards Pensaco full of Gringo's from Phoenix for a weekend of New Years fun in Mexico. The joy of bringing the new year at this point time was the least of my concerns as we had left the lava flow and were now over the desert but how to find a tan mini van in a light brown, creosote dotted desert...in the dark? How indeed. Thinking logically (finally), I dropped down between the creosote plants flying 5' over the ground in hopes of seeing the silhouette of the van against the waning light of the Western sky. This turned out to be an excellent decision as the ladders on top of the van used to transport the wing could be seen right in front of us! I turned to make as short as approach as possible as Dexa had informed me on the last "gas check" that she could no longer see fuel in the tank! This means the two inch wide by 15" long by 1" deep (approximately four cups of gas, give or take a cup), was what we were now flying with.
The landing was uneventful and as I removed the tank from the trike, the engine still clicking from the thermal changes of the cooling engine, it became apparent that we had close to a pint of fuel left! This was to be my introduction to the Pinacate and stimulated my desire to return there. We popped a bottle champagne on the spot and toasted our good fortune.
I’ve returned on two subsequent trips, this time by vehicle but the long, arduous, bumpy rock filled road was not as rewarding as flying over it. From that first flight I longed to return to film this from the air and as fate would have it, this came to fruition but not without cheating fate
TWELVE YEARS LATER
Up the coast from Puerto Penasco Mexico is a small fishing village called El Golfo Santa Clara. The distance from El Golfo to the Pinacate is roughly 60 miles over desert, dunes and mostly unlandable terrain. Good friend, trike student, former hang gliding buddy and now an accomplice on adventure missions, Dr. Scott Sindelar (Doc), has made many trips to El Golfo to fly down the pristine, untouched coastline and enjoy the smooth, marine air that is just magical to fly in.
One sun drenched morning on the beach, having both been bored with countless hours of flying up and down the coast either chasing each other taking pictures or giving rides, we considered flying to the Pinacate from El Golfo and returning in one day. Eyeing a map carefully indicated we would need more gas than our tanks could hold. My tank holds six gallons full and Doc's tank at least ten or twelve. Burning roughly 2.5 gallons per hour and flying at 55 miles per hour dictated Doc would need to leave full and I would have to strap on a pony tank or two and plan on landing (somewhere), in between to refuel.
The following day, with hopes high and adrenaline flowing in our veins we departed from the safety of the beach and headed cross country towards the Pinacate. The first ten or so miles from El Golfo was great! A flat desert to land in below us should we need to, smooth air and light winds increased our confidence as the foggy image of the
distant Pinacate came into view. I looked over my shoulder and snapped a photo of El Golfo from ten miles out. We will be returning.
Calm and confidence turned to concern as the flat desert soon turned to rolling soft sand dunes....MILES of dunes stretched it seemed to eternity, especially when flying over it! Landing in this could be somewhat of a problem if the front wheel may not roll upon landing and the dunes were far from being flat enough to land on. Two strikes.
Having burned most of my primary tank I was getting concerned about refueling when I spotted a railroad track running through the desert. Five more minutes at 55 miles per hour brought into a view what was once perhaps the remnants of some sort of stop for the railroad as a few small trees somehow managed to sustain life in the hot, barren sun drenched desert. Pieces of what was left of a few small buildings were scattered around no doubt stripped of anything that resembled value by visitors.
I made an approach low to find recently made vehicle tracks and firm ground to land on. I greased in a smooth landing with gas tanks lashed on both sides, and Doc was right behind me, an excellent landing.
From here the Pinacate loomed as a quiet, black giant awaiting our eager cameras to record this awesome event. Just fuel up and go! How many years have I been thinking of this??? The excitement was building.
As I untied one of my extra fuel tanks, anticipation running higher than a two year old on Christmas Eve, I heard Doc say mutter something under his breath that no pilot ever wants to here on this kind of adventure:
"uh oh"…
"Uh oh what?" I queried. "Uh....I forgot to fill my tank when we left Penasco" YOU WHAT? Hopes of flying to the top of the Pinacate which was still over 20 miles away were quickly replaced with concern of just making it back to El Golfo. "Ok, I've got two tanks full, how much you got?" Well, I had 8 gallons when we Ieft and according to my fuel spent I have mas o menos two gallons left". Hmmm...
Looking towards the waiting black giant on the horizon it became clear what the next step was: "Ok, take one of my five gallons, put it in I'll take the rest, we'll fly towards the Pinacate until we are just below half of what the total gas spent thus far is and we'll head back…wave to me when reach that point." (Doc has a fuel flow meter).
We made is as far as a huge cinder cone at the edge of the lava flow at which point Doc waived over it was time to head back to El Golfo with what fuel we had left. Banking towards the beach of the Sea of Cortez, our hopes dashed of filming the Pinacate, we flew down the coast taking in the view of the emerald green estuaries I've never seen before. This was somewhat of a distraction from the disappointment but only served as an incentive to return...with a vengeance.
In November of 2004 we made yet another attempt but were thwarted by unstable, rowdy air once we got close to the Pinacate. We were being tossing around around like weed seeds in the wind. I had a passenger in the back seat this time who was used to strong turbulence being a pilot but I'm confident our decision to abort this mission sat well with him as well. Flying through turbulence is one thing, being a passenger...not so enjoyable.
I’m sure it would appear from a distant, fixed point that Doc and I were on yo-yo strings as we flew through strong lift then strong sink generated no doubt by the black lava flow of the Pinacate combined with the mid afternoon sun. I would be trying to film him and he's either falling out of the sky, or hitting a thermal while I hit sink...not good.
Poor planning on my part as I botched this attempt by leaving too late in the day which resulted in us getting our collective asses kicked by strong thermals….but we shall return! But for the second time enjoyed the view while flying down the coast back home.
NOVEMBER 22, 2006 (my birthday)
Having put the two attempts behind us, we were now ready for another assault on the elusive Pinacate. Planning well in advance (for a change), we both took off work two extra days ahead of our annual pilgrimage on Thanksgiving to enjoy the festivities on the beach in Mexico. New air filters, spare parts, a “plan B” for retrieval, water, extra gas and an early departure gave us renewed hopes in flying over the volcano and getting some awesome shots. I had a Sony 5 mega pixel still camera and digital video camera with fresh batteries, extra film and disks….this was an opportunity that was going to be filmed and archived forever.
The morning of the 22nd was clear, calm and unbelievably warm for this time of the year in Mexico. I had something going on with my motor before leaving which is going to make for an interesting finish to this story. The motor was hard to start so I changed the plugs even though a fresh set was put in just a few flying hours before. The motor fired up and we departed the beach in El Golfo sometime around 9am. This time we had prior knowledge of where we could land to refuel, how far we could go and given luck, conditions and favorable winds, (which can change at any point during the day in this region from still to 40 mph), would have a successful flight.
Everything was going fine…motor was running strong, we were cruising at 50+mph hour, coming up on the railroad refueling spot and the entire time watching the Pinacate on the horizon get bigger and closer. We refueled at the same spot we had years prior and we both felt the excitement of having full tanks, nice air and plenty of time to make goal.
We departed the railroad tracks and flew over ten or so miles of barren, rolling dunes that had patterns created by the art that is nature rolling to the edge of the lava flow just mere miles away now. We are now at the point where we had to turn around four years prior and seized the moment to capture Doc flying over the first cinder cone on the lava field below me.
From this vantage point it the liquid lava flow could be defined as it oozed from the belching hold of fire in the center that spewed out vaporized rock (cinders), and red hot liquid magma.
The visual of the black lava fields below seemed to be getting closer like I was losing alititude but came to realize it was the gentle slope of the Pinacate that was coming up to meet me after all these years. Automatically my right foot depressed a little harder on the throttle as having a power out over this stuff would not be a good thing. Looking down on unlandable lava with ravines and sharp angles were not part of this flight plan. I noticed Doc gaining altitude as well and guessed we were over 5,000 only to find out later from Doc who has an altimeter (I had one once), that we were closer to 7,000’. There's a saying in hang gliding circles that you don't want to experience as a pilot: "it's better to be on the ground wishing you were in the air than being in the air wishing you were on the ground". Well, I wasn't all that thrilled at this point about being in the air but one thing for sure, I didn't want to be on the ground....not that ground.
As we climbed higher the cold air bit into small openings and up my sleeves as I opted for the use of my fingers for operating the cameras rather than wearing gloves. I've missed too many good images while flying due to the inability to operate the camera with gloves on and cold hands would be a small inconvenience when compared to what I was about to witness.
I pulled up on the zipper of my leather flying jacket to keep the cold air from entering in the front, bad enough it was blowing up my flapping pant legs. However, the cold was not enough of a distraction, nor the jaws of fate wide open below us to prevent recording what we both had waited four years to do: Film the Pinacate from the air.
I recall not wanting to look down as I’ve never flown over anything as rough and disconcerting as the scenery passing below us. Small tufts of turbulence fostered a desire, but not a need for a much tighter grip on the control bar (as if it would do any good), and hands off the camera. An engine out here would surely be the start of a bad day. Having flown through the turbulence, camera now in hand and flying below and behind Doc, I saw him lean over and crack off an image me as we had just entered the lava field and made it past the dunes.
The view was spectacular, volcanic cinder cones dotted the landscape to the horizon, the obvious flow of liquid magma that once spewed from the volcano was now clearly visible. With the throttle still close to wide open and still climbing, we cleared the top of the volcano and flew across the backside, something not accessible (or visible), from the park road on the other side. The fear of imminent death or serious injury was replaced by sheer excitement of the moment by moment visual we were downloading to memory and capturing on digital media. I made a few victory turns over the top before proceeding on…
Recalling my flight some fourteen years prior where I landed at the crater Elgante forced my attention to find this incredible hole in the ground and just as the thought fleeted from my attention I spotted it off to the left, surprisingly a long distance away. Doc took pictures while above and behind me and followed me towards it. Somehow, over time, it appeared to be much larger than I had remembered it to be.
It had been some time since we left our last refueling stop and I looked down to check on my fuel…not much, perhaps another 15-20 minutes. My desire to fly down inside the crater and land next to it (as I had done years previously) was replaced with a need to find a safe place to land and add more fuel. I made a trip around the ridge of the crater, video camera running as I made a complete circle just above and inside the edge. Looking down for where I landed before I could not find anything straight enough to land on. This is when I noticed the small winding road leading to the edge…”had I really landed there before? Could there have been some other place to put it down?” Spiraling lower proved that the only spot to land was on the twisty, narrow, compromising road to the edge of the crater. Thinking “safety first” (and still trying to fathom how I landed there before with a faster wing), I made a beeline for the open desert needing a flat place to dump in another 5 gallons of pre-mix.
Several miles away, the dirt road leading from the park station to the crater came into view…”perfect timing” I thought and glanced down once again to check my fuel level. Seeing a few inches in the bottom of my main take reassured I had enough to find a place to land. Looking up and back I see Doc following me knowing he too is going to need to add some more juice as well. As the dirt road became closer, it also became apparent there was not too many straight sections suitable for a safe landing and it appeared there was some rather tall scrub bushes lining both sides….great.
Several passes up and down the road I was attempting to figure out (going 50 mph 100 feet above the trail), where to land while cognizant that my fuel is getting low so I picked the best of what I saw, made an approach and set it down, wings, just brushing the tops of the bushes. Doc landed behind me uneventfully and for the first time since refueling at the railroad flats we had an opportunity to share the incredible experience that had just passed below both of us.
Not having planned on flying past the Pinacate, nor playing near the crater for ten minutes, it quickly became evident that neither of us had sufficient fuel to return to El Golfo, over 80 miles away from where we were now! What to do? Walking back from my aircraft, I approached my compadre with the logic needed to get back home: “Doc, we have to fly to Penasco, fill our tanks, and fly back up the coast to El Golfo!” A quick nod of agreement and putting what we had left in the cans in our tanks we wasted no time in getting airborne again as we were rapidly running out time. It would still be a several hour flight, with a refueling to make it back to El Golfo once landing in Penasco for more fuel.
Airborne once again, we took the shortest distance to the coast which took us near the top of the Pinacate for one more visual of this now quiet black giant. I looked over at Doc and captured an image of his bright orange wing against the black lava backdrop dotted with cinder cone vents, to this day one of my favorite shots. We still had 30 miles of desert and one mountain range to fly past before we even saw the coastline looming in the distance.
We made it to the coast of Puerto Penasco in record time, bar pulled in as far as possible for extra speed and arrived over the beach with 1500’ of altitude. Knowing friends are there who have a business giving rides to tourists in the same aircraft we were flying, I flew down the familiar beach that I myself have given countless rides for decades.
We were met with surprise by John Olson, aka: Ole’, a veteran Phoenix hang glider pilot from the early days and now strictly flying powered trikes like ours….”Buenas tardes amigo’s!” he said half laughing…were did you come from?” ”We just flew from El Golfo to the Pinacate but ran low on fuel so we had to come here to get more to make it back fast” “Pinche loco gringo’s” he said, “here, let me ask Alberto, he's not flying right now and can give you a ride to Pemex! (the Mexican gas station)”.
Five minutes later found us removing our cans, dropping them in the back of Alberto’s pickup and speeding towards Pemex just a few miles away. Racing the sun down we wasted no time in filling the fuel jugs and adding necessary oil to the gas mix at a 50:1 ratio. “Damn, the sun is getting low dude” I told Doc, “but I think we can make it” as Alberto tended to the fuel tanks.
Getting back to the beach in record time our hopes were high but the sun was getting low. We strapped on the tanks, said our goodbye’s took one picture before heading back and suited up for the return flight back home.
A quick pre-flight is better than none but doing anything fast in aviation is not a good idea, especially in a trike since the prop is in the back and anything loose, not tied down or a long rope will surely find its way into the spinning prop.
Double checking everything was secure I thought about the potential of getting back to El Golfo without enough light to land. A quick calculation of time and I started talking to myself while looking at Doc: “ok, the sun sets at 5:16 and there is sufficient light left to land at least 30, possibly 40 minutes after that. It’s now almost 4pm and we have to fly just under two hours back to El Golfo up the coast and have to land at least once to refuel”.
I took out my Mexican cell phone and called Carlos, our friend and ground support waiting for us 80 miles up the beach…”cabrone, que pasa?” He asked where we were and I told him on the beach in Penasco which surprised him as that was not part of our original flight plan as we were now on the “no plan flight plan”.
“Eschuche, poner luces en lay playa de mi van…es posilbe no luce por antiazar en dos horas mas" (My written Spanish is not much better than my spoken Espanol but Carlos understood my message: turn the headlights on the van so we won’t be landing in the dark in two hours)
The now cold motor on my airplane started right up and Ole’ gave us the thumbs up for a safe departure off the beach sporting his yellow nose guard fashioned from a Pennzoil plastic container…(don’t ask). Ole’ travels all over Mexico and has for many years bringing the joy of flight to hundreds of people and lives a modest but very rewarding life, the envy of many.
Doc and I took off and did several victory passes before heading out as my memory sparked how many times…over a hundred I’m sure, the visual of the sun low in the sky, the wind rushing by my face, the sunlight dancing in hues of gold and yellow off the water. But no time for memory lane, we are on a mission to return home!
With the shadows getting long, the sun getting lower over the Sea of Cortez and Penasco fast becoming a memory, Doc and I climbed into the sky, motors at full throttle to to gain altitude as the hungry props bit into the thick marine and two eager pilots wanting to beat the sun from slipping over the horizon.
With Cholla bay below us and sun dancing on the water off my left wing, I reflected on the previous hours of flying and thought about how awesome it had all been…what a sensory overload, what an experience what an adventure. Then, in the midst of basking in my pleasure and reveling in my superior piloting skills, my motor sputtered and I thought: “okay, that’s not right, perhaps something in carb”…still running at cruise throttle setting, I pushed the engine for all it had. It was an attempt to prove to myself that everything was ok, perhaps a bubble in the fuel line and get up to Doc’s altitude should I need to hand signal him. We did not have radio communication for the trip (we both have aircraft radios…in El Golfo) and relied on visual cues and hand signals.
Everything was fine until three more minutes passed and again, this time a serious missing in the performance, caused me to wave over to Doc and motion him back to the beach. It ran fine until I was just over the beach where we had departed from and then BANG! BANG!...two loud pops and the engine quit running. Thoughts of making El Golfo before dark quickly dissapted and new focus of filing a flight plan back to Penasco without an engine became a priority. With about 5,000' of altitude and gliding silently over the water to make a safe approach to put it down, I flew through a cloud of seagulls circling over the beach and watched as they parted to allow me to go through.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, a surprise birthday party in back in El Golfo left everyone pissed especially my daughter Erin, who, by sheer determination, was able to find not only balloons, but a tank of helium in El Golfo for the party. Doesn’t sound like a monumental task until you’ve had the experience of visiting El Golfo Santa Clara Mexico.
I attempted to find the problem and actually got it running, took it back up whereupon again, the engine quit and I had to glide back to the beach again with no motor. Flying with no engine is really not a big problem since our trikes are basically gliders with engines. Given a safe, flat place to land coming in with no power is not a problem and something I inculcate into every student I train during instruction. Sooner or later you will have a power out and having experience in landing with no power is nice to pull out of your bag of pilot tricks when the need arises. It's all luck in the end isn't it? Same as an accident in a car. Sometimes though, despite your best efforts to be safe, fate just hands you some bad luck.
Destined to spend the night on the beach, Doc took me to the Reef Restaurant located right next to where we were tied down for the night where we dined on steak and vegetables, deserving for the sky gods that we were that day. We returned from dinner and sat around the campfire telling flying stories, which, over the years, tend to gain intensity and most are somewhat embellished…all in good fun though.
The morning light brought us to the reality that it was Thanksgiving and we were on a mission to feed 15 hungry people in El Golfo, several who drove long distances to be there. I decided to leave my airplane in the hands of Bob Herndon (you may have seen his face on wanted posters), who gave me lengthy ass chewing for flying my trike over the Pincate but agreed to let me store my aircraft on his beach lot until I could retrieve it later.
The following morning broke with awesome weather, a clear sky, no wind and a positive outlook. Doc and I had breakfast, got dressed, Bob gave us his blessings and took off about 9am and headed up the coast with yours truly in the backseat. Having the larger fuel tank meant we didn’t have to land to refuel and followed the GPS on the above his instrument cluster to our goal up the coast. We flew over incredible sights like estuaries, tide pools, salt flats and a very strange black puddle that looked remarkably like Black Gold….Texas Tea.
As we headed up the coast, I looked over my right shoulder and saw what we had conquered the previous day…the Pinacate and the new road being built that will connect Penasco to El Golfo just below us. Memories of the previous day drifted through my head with the images, the laughs, the excitement and most of all, completing the mission.
Ten miles out from El Golfo we saw the city come into view, the Colorado river delta where millions of gallons per minute used to flow freely into the Sea of Cortez and the new road from Penasco. Flying over canyons above the mesa was always an excellent photo op especially on Thanksgiving as trikes pulled hang gliders into the air.
Doc set up the approach to the beach, had a perfect landing (thanks buddy), and we unhooked and reveled in what we had accomplished. One last shot and time to make turkeys for the Thanksgiving feast!
Looking back, I will return to the Pinacate as that was, hands down, the most exciting flight I’ve ever had in my flying career…perhaps again in something more reliable?
Many mysteries surround the Pinacate due mostly to it's remote location, barren moon-like crater riddled terrain and the fact that Indians lived there. Reason to return and spend a week camped out there.
