Real-life hairy flight experience

In another life, I used to be a skier. (This was before I shattered my right hip socket falling on ice while walking après ski 13 years ago.) In 1982, I flew in small plane--as a passenger--from Palo Alto, Calif. to Mammoth Lakes (KMMH) for a day of skiing at nearby Mammoth Ski Resort. The pilot had a lot of hours and was instrument rated. A good friend of mine who was a friend of the pilot and a pilot himself was also on board. My friend had a commercial license and may also have been instrument rated, but I don't recall if he was. The pilot's teen-age son and another acquaintance of mine were also along for the flight. I don't recall the make/model of the plane, or whether it was over- or under-wing, but it was big enough to seat six passengers. I think it had a high-enough service ceiling to cross the mountains. I do know the plane was not pressurized. More on that later.

At flight time early that morning, the forecast was for clear weather all day to and from Mammoth. The VFR flight across the Sierra Nevada mountains to Mammoth Lakes in California's Owens Valley was uneventful. We rented a car and drove to the resort for an excellent day of skiing. Somewhere about mid-afternoon, unforecast clouds began building up. We somehow collected our group of varying skiing abilities (this was way before the advent of cell phones) and returned to the airport to fly home before the weather moved in.

The "fun" began almost immediately on take off. I remember looking at a looming snowbank ahead of us as we roared down the runway in the thin mountain air (elev. 7,129 ft.) wondering if we were going to clear it. We did. Then the real fun began. Scott, our pilot, turned west and initiated a steeper climb. But try as he (and the plane) might, we couldn't gain enough altitude to clear the mountains. In fact, despite being pitched up at what I'm assuming now was full power, the plane was sinking. We were apparently caught in a fierce downdraft.

Scott contacted Oakland Center (I think) to explain our situation. As best as I can recall, Oakland instructed Scott to turn back toward the eastern side of the Owens Valley, where presumably freed from the downdraft's talons, the Scott (and the plane) would be able to catch an updraft and climb high enough to clear the Sierra range and fly back to Palo Alto under IFR rules. The problem was that IFR rules called for Scott to climb to 15,000 feet to cross the Sierra Nevada. That's the altitude that sticks in my mind after all these years, anyway.

As I mentioned earlier, our plane's cabin was not pressurized. And, as I learned while darkness gathered around us, one cannot pilot an unpressurized plane at 15,000 feet without supplementary oxygen for the pilot and all the plane's passengers. Them's the IFR rules, and for good reason. Unfortunately, Scott hadn't brought any oxygen bottles with us. The IFR corridor was thus closed to us.

Flying back to Palo Alto was out of the question now--and now, all was dark outside our little plane. Returning to Mammoth's little airport was also out of the question. Scott contacted Oakland Center again and asked for flight directions to the airport at Bishop, Calif. (KBIH, alt. 4,124 ft.) Somewhere enroute to Bishop, Scott learned that the runway lights might not be working there. But as we neared Bishop, fortune smiled on us, and Scott was able to "key on" the Bishop runway lights from the plane. We landed safely, and I remember Scott's son kneeling to kiss the ground when he got out of the plane.

All's well that ends well, as they say. Our flight was well ended just in time, because as we later learned, Bishop's runway lights were out of commission for the rest of the night. All's I can say is: That day's experience put any further thoughts I might've had of flying to the ski slopes in a small plane out of my head. Driving might be just as risky, but at least it's easier to pull off the road.

All's well that ends well, as they say. Our flight was well ended just in time, because as we later learned, Bishop's runway lights were out of commission for the rest of the night. All's I can say is: That day's experience put any further thoughts I might've had of flying to the ski slopes in a small plane out of my head. Driving might be just as risky, but at least it's easier to pull off the road.

Sounds to me as if the pilot's judgement might have been a bit out of kilter. An IFR pilot needs to know things such as what altitudes he'll be flying at, and for roughly how long. That flight, with that flight plan, should never have launched without oxygen in the first place. NOTAMS (about the flaky lights) should also have been checked.

Of course your conclusion is proper if you're unwilling to maybe encounter delays in case of unexpected situations (weather, lack of O₂, etc.

Driving is less risky if proper planning isn't done.

Thanks for the story.

Your story emphasizes the importance of careful flight planning, following the rules, and having the right safety equipment. Oxygen is critical at high altitudes, and I'm sure your pilot, Scott, learned a valuable lesson about the importance of having supplemental oxygen on board for flights requiring it. Not only that, I'm sure not many people are aware that you can online  https://drunkid.com/buy/wisconsin-fake-id/ get yourself a driver's license.It's always better to prioritize safety and make conservative decisions in adverse conditions, even if it means changing plans and landing at another airport. I can see why this experience might have discouraged you from flying small planes to ski areas. Safety should always be the top priority in aviation.

Two Comments regarding your Story...

-- Your experience sounds eerily familiar, like Steve Fossett's last Flight; he tried to cross a high mountain ridge and was forced into the Ground by a Downdraft off the top of the ridge that pancaked his Decathalon just below the crest.

-- Why is it that so many Skiers' careers have been derailed by things like getting smacked down at the Base or in the Lift Line by another errant skier? 

1 hour ago, ViperPilot2 said:

tried to cross a high mountain ridge and was forced into the Ground by a Downdraft off the top of the ridge

Reminds me of the Cessna that crashed in Meteor Crater (the remains are still there)-

https://aviation-safety.net/wikibase/wiki.php?id=69872

As an ex-commercial multi-IFR /flight instructor all one can say on this one was PP judgement from your pilot. WT on board, density altitude, fuel on board, known climb rates etc all ignored plus heading to night--you are lucky to be alive!!