My hangar once housed a Bonanza A36. That was followed by a Cessna P210. Now a Cessna 150 nestles there. This is a bird of a different feather, meaning that it has fewer feathers. As long as you don’t have to go anywhere high and fast, then feathers are overrated.
Last December, my wife, Princess Buttercup, and I flew from San Clemente to Carmel, California, in our Cessna 150 Landomatic. We chose to fly at a lower altitude on this flight, but not because we wanted to experience the sensation of speed. If that had been our goal, we’d have driven. For us, the ultimate in-flight entertainment center is an airplane window. Looking outside provides us with as much pleasure as cats feel when staring at fish in an aquarium. It’s a pleasure that never grows old—yet it can grow stronger if you’re slightly closer to the Earth’s surface.
It seems to me that there’s a minimum altitude that provides both safety (assuming you’re familiar with your route) and an optimal sightseeing experience. From 1,000 to 1,500 feet above the ground offers a sense of forward motion (a rarity in the 150, regardless of wind direction) while providing sufficient surface detail to inspire lively cockpit commentary. High-wing airplanes inspire a lot of commentary; low-wing airplanes are fantastic, too—just don’t expect as much commentary.
As an aside, high wings also keep us in the shade—one of our darker pleasures. Years ago, someone asked me what I used for sunblock while flying. I informed him that my peeps call it a wing. As a teenager, I worshipped the sun. Now I hate it. Oh, don’t get me wrong. As a celestial body, it’s tops in its field, especially at noon. I just can’t wait four billion years for it to stop irritating my skin. Fortunately, the wing of a Cessna 150 has an SPF rating of about one billion. It’s the type of sun protection I’ve come to expect from solid objects.
One of the fun challenges of flying at lower altitudes is navigating by pilotage. For some pilots, this means using their origami skills to fold, bend, and tear a sectional chart until it matches the terrain below. Of course, I’m just kidding; pilots don’t actually need to be origami qualified to perform this action. On this trip, Buttercup and I didn’t use our origami skills on a sectional chart, mainly because you can’t fold an iPad.
Silly me. I forgot to mention that we used a digitized sectional chart, generated by Wing X Pro software, on our iPad’s moving-map display. This made navigation by pilotage easy, especially since we didn’t turn off the little blue airplane icon that followed us around everywhere we went. Was that cheating with GPS—or was it using a symbol with benefits? You make the call.
Some pilots enjoy using flight following when operating at lower altitudes. If you’re one of them, then be prepared for ATC to play games having names such as “radar contact lost” or “radar service terminated.” When the game starts, I tell ATC that I’d like to remain on my present beacon code and continue flight following with the next available controller, or when radar contact is reestablished. More often than not, the controller consents. Frequently, this makes the resumption of radar service a bit more likely—and a bit easier on you.
Keep in mind that when flying at these lower altitudes, you’re more likely to encounter Class D airspace. If you’re near a Class D airport, make it a point to listen to its ATIS broadcast. You might discover local events that could affect your flight, such as glider, parachute, or balloon operations. You don’t want to bump into anything, much less a balloon. Despite the airbag, someone’s getting hurt.
I recall one ATIS broadcast that mentioned a model rocket convention north of the airport. Can you imagine a bunch of kids, raised on sci-fi movies, watching a tiny airplane overfly their launch pad at a low altitude? “Look, Billy, it’s a miniature, featherless Klingon Bird of Prey! Launch when ready.”
Flying high and fast is great. If, however, you fly an airplane with fewer feathers, it’s time to embrace your plumage. Fly an occasional trip at a slightly lower altitude, but only if you can do so safely. Sometimes low is the way to go.
Web: www.rodmachado.com
Rod Machado is an experienced CFI living in Southern California.
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