The Sands of Time

By the end of January 1942 Hitler's Deutsches Afrika Korps had again pushed back British and Allied forces, this time taking the port city of Benghazi in Libya. In a series of seesaw desert wins and defeats it soon became obvious that Germany, led by the brilliant Gen. Erwin Rommel, was a force with which to be reckoned. Germany was threatening Egypt, control of the Suez Canal, and Middle East oil. British Prime Minister Winston Churchill pleaded with his friends in the United States to help turn the tide in North Africa. This was a big request. The United States had just entered the war and the U.S. Army had never fought a major desert battle.

Lt. Gen. Lesley McNair, chief of staff of Army General Headquarters, developed a plan to combat the Germans in North Africa. He first ordered that a place be located for training American soldiers for realistic desert warfare and he placed Maj. Gen. George Patton in charge of the project. Patton was born near Pasadena, California. He had served under Gen. John J. Pershing, chasing Pancho Villa in Mexico, and later in World War I. Tank warfare was new and he quickly saw the coming importance of the Armored Division. Patton also recognized the airplane as an invaluable tool for reconnaissance and its potential for directing future large-scale armored battles.

Patton had learned to fly in 1921 in a Curtiss Jenny as a major in the U.S. Cavalry on Long Island, New York. This new skill would later serve him well in war and peace.

Patton was ordered to California to look for a suitable training ground. Upon arriving at March Field in Riverside, he took time to survey the millions of acres of desert and mountainous terrain in eastern California and Arizona, declaring it the best training area he had ever seen. Working together, the War Department and the Department of the Interior allocated an initial area of 10,000 square miles known as the Desert Training Center (DTC). Soon this area would be expanded to 18,000 square miles, an enormous area renamed the California-Arizona Maneuver Area (CAMA) that encompassed isolated areas of California, Arizona, and Nevada. Patton set up his headquarters at Camp Young, 50 miles east of Palm Springs, including the building of a runway at Shaver's Pass, today known as Chiriaco Summit. In time 11 giant, tented divisional camps would be functioning across this area. Many had their own runways. Patton would pilot his Stinson, crisscrossing the maneuver area giving orders to tank commanders by radio.

Here men and machine were tested. Patton was tough, demanding hard training under real conditions; setting up bivouacs, rationing water and food, using live ammo, and staging mock battles on giant desert landscapes under the blazing summer sun. He had flown his personal Stinson Voyager to California and he used it actively to travel between the camps and to direct operations. Soon all manner of aircraft were being used in these maneuvers. Piper L-4s for surveillance; Douglas C-50s parachuted ammo and supplies to troops; light bomber-ground attack A-20 Havocs as well as Curtiss P-40 Warhawks; B-24 Liberators; and Lockheed P-38s Lightnings all joined the war games. Some of these airfields, purposely built or adapted by the Army Air Force, are still thriving today, notably Thermal (recently renamed Jacqueline Cochran Regional Airport) in Palm Springs; Blythe Airport in Blythe, California; Palm Springs International Airport; Needles Airport in Needles, California; and Kingman Airport in Kingman, Arizona. Smaller fields such as Desert Center Airport in Desert Center, California; Searchlight Airport in Searchlight, Nevada; Cliff Hatfield Memorial Airport in Calipatria, and Chiriaco Summit Airport are also accessible for challenge and exploration. Patton left the Desert Training Center in the late summer of 1942 for Operation Torch, the U.S. invasion of North Africa. His high standards and procedures prevailed until the training area was shut down in April 1944. By that time one million soldiers had been trained in the desert.

Today, more than 60 years later, there are interesting remnants of these camps and desert training sites for pilots wanting to visit the area. Jesse McKeever is a local pilot who has made the exploration of this rugged terrain his life's interest. At age 16, McKeever started flying over the Salton Sea, just southeast of Palm Springs at the edge of the fertile Coachella Valley. He developed a successful business drilling and pumping subterranean water for farmers in the area. While once a part of the desert, the Coachella Valley is today a verdant land of farms and encroaching resort communities. McKeever started exploring the historic desert sites by air. He would land on desert roads and backpack into remote regions to search out what had been left of the camps. He took me on one of his excursions. Climbing out of his private strip in his Cessna 170 among the date-palm groves of his property, we flew along the northeast edge of the valley and up over the Chocolate Mountains. Then dropping lower we skirted the valley between the Chuckwalla and Orocopia mountains searching for the "King's Throne," a 100-foot-high hill with an unobstructed view of the valley; from here Patton could observe the movements of his troops and armament. Flying ever lower we edged our way along the outer limits of restricted area R-2507 with one eye on the rising terrain and the other on the lookout for fast-moving jets. At 500 feet off the desert floor it is easy to see mile after mile of tank tracks indelibly etched into the desert varnish. Mc-Keever's familiarity with the area and his sharp eye allowed us to view trenches and foxholes, berms and rifle ranges, dumps of gas cans and shell casings, gun emplacements, old rail sidings, and a landscape pockmarked with mortar craters. Over camps Coxcomb and Iron Mountain a network of roads are still clearly visible, as are the soldiers' places of worship, the only structures that remain standing today. At Camp Rice the once-giant Rice Army Airfield is still visible but now overgrown and covered by the relentless shifting sands, soon to be returned to the desert.

Every year thousands of pilots and their passengers fly over this unusual piece of American history. For a closer view start by flying to Chiraco Summit Airport, a 4,600-foot-long paved runway between Blythe and Palm Springs on Interstate 10. The airport serves as the gateway to the excellent General George S. Patton Memorial Museum, which tells the whole story. On display is "the big map," weighing more than 25 tons; it shows the territory in graphic, relief detail.

Patrick J. Mathews, AOPA 1134012, of Indian Wells, California, is a 1,450-hour private pilot. A freelance writer, he owns a 1993 Beechcraft F33 Bonanza.

Desert Flying

Standing on the ramp at the Palm Springs International Airport in October 1998 AOPA Pilot contributor Barry Schiff conducted his own kind of exit poll. He randomly asked pilots arriving for the annual AOPA Expo, most of whom had just flown over the desert to get there, how much drinking water they had carried aboard their aircraft. The next day at his seminar Schiff announced the result of his straw poll. Less than 10 percent of those pilots he questioned had prepared for the trip by carrying any drinking water. Do we ever consider the terrain over which we will fly or do we have such an abiding confidence in the airplanes we fly?

As summer approaches it's timely to review not just how you fly, but also to consider some of the factors involved if you are planning a trip to or around the western states.

U.S. pilots and their passengers fly over four distinct desert areas in the West. The smallest, the Mojave, is probably the best known because it largely falls into California. It is the driest of all U.S. deserts and its unique ecology has created unusual flora like the Joshua tree and rare animals like the bighorn sheep and the desert tortoise.

The largest, the Chihuahuan, is predominately a Mexican desert with a small northern area shared by Texas and New Mexico.

The Sonoran Desert is also shared with Mexico. It is considered to be among the world's most biologically rich deserts. While only a small part of it spills over the southern borders of California and Arizona, we have enough access to be able to marvel at its extraordinary diversity. Here giant saguaro cactus fed by summer monsoon rains from Mexico can grow as high as 50 feet and live for up to 200 years. Over time they evolve into stately homes for unique birds like Gila woodpeckers or pygmy owls, as well as other desert wildlife. To the north, pilots mainly in Nevada, Utah, and Idaho have their own desert, the Great Basin Desert. Not one basin but, in fact, a series of higher, smaller basins mostly over 4,000 feet in elevation, it is considered a cold desert, attracting sagebrush, pinyon, and juniper woodlands.

However, unlike in some of the world's more traditional deserts, such as the Sahara or those that exist in Australia's vast interior, desert flying in the United States is made further challenging by the inevitability of surrounding mountains. Ironically it's quite often the rain shadows of these mountains that are responsible for these stark desert conditions.

Over the past 50 years there has been a significant change in how we view our deserts. As population has expanded to the west and as man has conquered the harsh living conditions, we have tempered our view of this "psychological void of the nation." We now accept it as an invaluable asset of natural wonders and indigenous cultures. On its fringes man has thrived by establishing lush resorts and modern communities. Agriculture has succeeded by tapping aquifers and adapting desert crops, such as date palms imported from the Middle East, grapes, nuts, and fruits of all kinds, and even aqua-farming.

There's much to see and enjoy for pilots wishing to explore these desert regions but, as summer approaches, know what to expect.

Desert and mountain flying needs special instruction if you are to confidently handle high and gusting winds, dust devils, turbulence, mountain waves, lack of depth perception, summer thunderstorms, and high density altitudes.

In the mountains and the high deserts with high summer temperatures your aircraft's performance is dramatically decreased.

Expect a significantly longer takeoff roll and poor rates of climb. Remember, too, that when landing at higher-altitude fields, while your indicated airspeed registers the same, the lower-density air results in a higher groundspeed, a faster landing speed, and the need for longer landing distances. For landing in gusty wind conditions at higher altitudes a power-on landing is recommended for greater aircraft control.

It is important to remember when planning your flight to maintain significant altitude over mountain passes or above abrupt changes in terrain. Severe downdrafts on the leeward side and turbulence are not uncommon, especially in high-wind conditions.

For a smooth, safer ride make it a habit to fly early in the morning or early in the evening, and don't fly at night without an intimate knowledge of the terrain or without the appropriate training and experience.

With summer desert temperatures frequently reaching 120 degrees Fahrenheit, there are special conditions pilots should be aware of and preparations that should be made when flying over this terrain:

• Always file a flight plan or at least talk to center or the local controlling authority. Constant situational awareness is important if an off-airport landing is necessary and you need to quickly report your position.
• Expect and dress for the worst. A forced landing in the desert in summer is no time to be caught in shorts and a T-shirt, so dress appropriately in long pants, cotton shirt, a hat, and sturdy footwear. Heat stroke can be fatal so seek or create shade. Take along a small, simple survival kit containing a signaling mirror, matches, a knife, sunblock, and basic medical supplies. Also carry a minimum of a gallon of water per person per day. These supplies take up little room but could save your life and those of your passengers.

With constant high temperatures, once on the ground, time is of the essence. Use your brain, not your energy. Stay with the aircraft. It's difficult for searching aircraft to spot a solitary figure on foot. Be ready to signal and don't panic. — PJM