It was all Facebook's fault. I posted that I was planning on flying around California, some friends commented that I should go visit them in Bend, Oregon, another friend added that if I was going to Oregon there was an air rally that ended there. Next thing I know, Ed and I were discussing entering the rally. When I asked him what his attitude was towards the race, in it to win or relax, have fun and enjoy the ride, he replied the latter and, just like that, Race 12 had a crew.
The Hayward Air rally is a competition where the objective is not to get there fast, but to get there accurately. Namely, the organizers tell the contestants the route and the contestants have to tell how much fuel they will use and how long it will take them to get there. Whomever gets the closest to their estimates, wins.
Our first task was to put numbers on our plane, Ed's Cessna 310. In theory it was supposed to be easy: a trip to Home Depot to get the appropriate tape, and then half an hour cutting strips and applying them to the tail and the bottom part of the wings. In practice, it involved trips to several stores in order to get enough tape and over two hours out in the tarmac, under a hot California sun, lying on our backs before this task was done. This should have been our first sign that we had underestimated what we were getting into.
That evening we had the route briefing and a chance to meet our fellow racers. The route was straightforward, with three checkpoints before our first stop at Redding, and another three before our final destination of Bend. Our fellow racers were competitive: going over and over their calculations, checking their plans, using Google Earth to check the route, and one going as far as adding a hose and container to their plane's fuel vent so that they could capture any fuel lost and reuse it. Ed and I just shrugged and said, we'll figure it out later. By we, of course, I mean Ed; it was his plane and he knew the numbers. My job was, at this point, just to look good.
After rising way too early the next morning we eventually found ourselves at the pre-race briefing for last minute instructions and, most importantly, coffee and pastries. After that it was off to the ramp, for our official team pictures and to wait for the morning fog to clear so we could be on our way. They gave us GPS trackers, something new they were testing this year, and around 9 am the clouds started clearing. By 9:30 Ed and I were strapped to our seats, and soon after we were taxiing to the runway. A quick runup to make sure things were fine, we lined up with the runway and waited. Soon the official lowered the flag, Ed pushed the throttle forward and we were off. Our race had started!
As we headed towards our first checkpoint I realized we had never actually figured out what I was supposed to do, and how we were supposed to interact as a team. I had a vague notion my job was to navigate, keep track of time and spot he checkpoints, but that was it. So, at 160 kts I looked at Ed's flight plan, started adding numbers and trying to figure when we were supposed to be at each checkpoint in order to get there at the appointed time.
The first checkpoint was an adventure: Ed said we were there, his GPS said we were there, my GPS said we were there, but neither of us could find the airport to be able to answer the question (how many T-hangars in the southwest corner of the field). Never mind, we could figure that out later, so we took a picture of the general area and headed off to the next checkpoint. Oh, and we were two minutes ahead of our schedule.
Off to the second checkpoint we went, all the time looking out for airplanes and checking our estimates. This time around things were a little easier and we were able to count the number of green roofs at the end of the runway, but we were still two minutes ahead schedule.
At the third checkpoint, before we were supposed to go in for our timing run (flying low over a specific airport so the officials could time us), we were still two minutes ahead of schedule so Ed did a 360 turn to kill some time. Then we called in to the officials saying we were coming for our timing run, they gave us the ok and off we went, looking for a lake, houses, and eventually the private strip we were supposed to fly over. This was also the time I figured out I couldn't add time up and had all the expected checkpoint times off by, you guessed it, two minutes. And that's approximately how much we were off by on the first leg.
We took an one hour break in Redding to check the weather ahead (isolated thunderstorms), grab some food and rest. Back in the plane, we taxied for takeoff when Ed noticed the alternator light go on. Take off was cancelled and we taxied to a mechanic to try and identify the problem. He opened the engine, poked around but did not find anything. The light did not come back on, so we decided we were ready to go. Taxi to the runway, wait for the flag and off we went on the second leg of our adventure.
We reached our first checkpoint and I found out that, according to the plan, we were 15 minutes ahead of schedule. This time I double checked my math and the numbers were not lying. So we made the only sensible decision: forget the time and let's enjoy the ride. So we flew towards the first checkpoint, looking for a big plane on display near some airport. We managed to find it near the on ramp of some highway and off we went to look for our second checkpoint, two circular structures at the top of a mountain. Those I found, as well as the orange roof between them that we were supposed to look for. The third and final checkpoint was also easy to find, a nice big antenna.
Then it was time to descend and go for our timing run, which involved finding a town and then following some power lines until we found the airport. The process was straightforward, though I still think calling four buildings a "town" is a little bit of a stretch. But hey, if that is what they want to be called, I'm ok with that.
Ten minutes after the timing run we were landing at Bend, Oregon. The officials refueled the plane, took note of the amount of fuel used and that was it, we were done with the rally. We spent the rest of the Saturday hanging out at the hotel and sharing stories with other pilots at the hospitality suite. This was followed by dinner, some needed rest.
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