A Study in Topography

The Dakota’s are a wonderful study in topography, making me wish I remembered more of my geology lessons. The land is once and forever flat and unremarkable, and suddenly heaving. The route chosen passed through the Badlands, which we had only seen before passing by at about 70 mph on interstate 90. From the air, as I suppose it is from the ground, it’s spectacular. The desert looking parts appear very inhospitable, while the tree covered parts inviting. I’m not sure of the geological explanation, but some natural forces had a field day in this part of the country. And yet, cows roamed, roads bisected, and occasionally - very occasionally - a family located as remotely as I can imagine. Making circles around particularly interesting mountains of rock spires, bluffs, and canyons, it occurred to me that I had been playing there for a while. A moment of panic, quick calculation, and looking at my plan said there was more than enough fuel in the tanks. But I could understand how someone could easily get in trouble with that kind of distraction. 

After going west toward Rapid City, I turned north to Philip. A small town with no discernible reason for being that I could tell, other than cowboys, cows, and modest farming, it looked very hospitable in the Airport Directory. Nice long runway, fuel available, and a town not too far away, it seemed a good stopping point. Indeed it was, except self serve. The small pilots terminal was quite a contrast, with its three chairs in the “lounge,” right next to the reference desk. The room also contained the airport lighting switching gear (controlled by radio clicks from by the approaching pilot), and a lock box for the courtesy car, in this case a SUV. The procedure was to call the town finance office or the police department to get the lock box code. When I did that, the person answering the phone didn’t even ask who I was or require any information. She simply gave me the code. That was my ticket to lunch at a pizza and sandwich place in downtown Philip. The main street, and virtually only street you could call downtown, literally ended in a large memorial on a hillside called the South Dakota Centennial Lasting Legacy Memorial, dedicated “To Our Past, Present, and Future Pioneers.” It listed a whole bunch of names, which I assumed to be past residents of Philip, but couldn’t be sure.

After a nice salad and sandwich, back the Warrior went into the air - destination Dickenson - with planned stop in Hettinger, ND. Between Philip and Dickenson is a lot of empty land. Other than grazing cattle and large expanses of grass land and some hayfield, there was not much to see. I deviated east a bit just to pick up some elevation changes along the Cheyenne River, passing over Eagle Butte, which sounded like it was on the edge of some interesting topography, which it was. It was also in the Cheyenne Indian reservation, and next to the Standing Rock reservation. Indian reservations often seem to be synonymous with empty land. 

Hettinger is a county seat also kind of out in the middle of nowhere, but with a very nice airport. Again, with a comfortable pilot lounge and briefing area, complete with 55 inch television, the hangars, FBO and commercial airline terminal were sharp, well maintained and relatively new. Plenty of general aviation activity. In my approach I danced with two regional jets, since we were using two different runways. They’re not very sensitive to cross winds and prefer the longest runway that ends nearer the terminal. In the Warrior, on the other hand, I prefer to be as close as possible to the wind, which in this case was right down my chosen runway. The airliners kept close communication with me to make sure we kept our distances, which was not a problem. It was just an issue of keeping track of who was where and at what altitude.

A new navigation tool helps make that easy. ADS-B, which is required in all aircraft in 2020, is like the marine equivalent AIS in that it allows users to track other traffic. In this case, since the Warrior is already so equipped, I could see the location, direction, and altitude of all the other aircraft. The only thing you can’t see is intention, which is why we stayed in touch with each other. 

Because it was later in the day, things were getting pretty bumpy. The landing at Hettinger was fun, and the landing at Dickenson was even more fun, given the first meaningful crosswind landing of the trip. My personal limit is a 13 knot cross wind factor (calculated from wind velocity and angle to the plane). In this case we had peak gusts of 15 mph at 45 degrees to the plane. Within my limit, but a factor to be negotiated. From that landing, I retained my confidence in cross wind landings.

Dickenson had a sophisticated FBO (commercial operator), who took great care of me. They made reservations for me at a 20% discount at the LaQuinta Hotel, and gave me keys to their Ford Explorer to use for the night. Needless to say, I slept deeply that night.

Here are links to the other segments of this series following my (some would say Don Quixote-ish) barnstorming escapade.

Part 1 - A High School Daydream

Part 2 -  Pilot Amenities

Part 4 - What I Thought I Saw

Part 5 - S.U.M.M.E.R.