Flying Aces Inc. Newsletter vol.32 #10 Oct.2001
The Leading Edge
General Meeting: Monday, October 8, 19:30 at the San Jose Jet Center
"Flying to a New Home" John Gould will discuss his recent purchase
of a Challenger ultralight, and its relocation from Camarillo.
Board Meeting:
Sunday October 28, 17:00 at Mark Scheitrum's in Willow Glen.
Happy Birthday wishes to Michael Workman, October 24
Congratulations to new Commercial Pilot Terry Ridgeway
NOTAM:
Flying Aces annual Christmas Party will be at Apple Lane Inn in Soquel
18:00-21:00 Saturday, December 8, 2001, $5 per person, in advance.
Reservation form will appear in the November newsletter.
Feature Story: My First Ride in a Cessna
After two weeks of visiting various archaeological sites, we took a
commercial flight to Ica in southern Peru. This desert area contains the
giant glyphs which are known as the Nazca Lines. We boarded a Cessna
172, it began its takeoff roll, and suddenly the pilot aborted the takeoff
and taxied over to the hangar. He explained that he could hear a
squealing noise, which he was sure was the alternator belt.
My Second Ride in a Cessna
The area around Ica, Peru is a white sandy desert which separates the Pacific Ocean from the
Andes, which shoot up beyond 10,000 feet elevation. Ica has lush condominmium villas for the
well-to-do, and is comparable to Palm Springs, CA, although nowhere near as populated. The
attraction for foreign tourists is the Nazca Lines: large figures of people and animals which
were scratched out of the desert surface approximately 700 years ago. In this region, as in
other parts of Peru, civilization enjoyed a seaside existence, excellent fishing provided by the
upwelling of nutrient rich water within easy reach of the coast. The climate varies from
semiarid to desert, over a timescale of decades, which allowed populations to florish, until
their crops failed, and then preserved the pottery and architecture that they left behind.
After the aborted takeoff of the first C-172, we managed a clean takeoff in the alternate.
As we turned downwind, we could see a large conical mountain of sand, quite close to the
airport, with a house at its base, looking threatened. We were told later that the sea breeze
gradually moves the sand dune hills and the house will eventually be abandoned.
We climbed to 5,000 feet and were told that we would make several passes, so that we
could take pictures conveniently. As the figures suddenly became obvious, we really were
amazed. They are outline drawings made by scratching through the dark desert "varnish",
exposing white limestone, so the contrast is high. The subject matter varies from clear bird
and animal figures to cartoon style humanoids. One goggle eyed, round headed "spaceman"
lies on the steep slope of a hill.
A retired German woman mathematician had become interested in the Nazca Lines, and
lived there for many years, measuring the figures, and trying to educate Peruvians about the
erosion that is still occurring because of motor vehicle traffic. The damage done by offroad
motorbikes was readily apparent from the air. The Panamerica Highway also passes through
the area where most of the figures are concentrated. The pilots told us that they also see figures in
other valleys of the region.
Some people claim that the figures were created by, or for the benefit of, aliens from outer
space, because they are only appreciated when viewed from altitude. The scholars who have
studied them believe that they are astronomical constellations and zodiacal signs marked on
the ground, but relating to stars in the night sky.
Although it was impressive to see the figures with my own eyes, and appreciate that they
were made "out in the middle of nowhere", my photographs of them were unimpressive. The
pictures sold in the tourist shop, or the films that you may see on TV capture them under
more favorable lighting conditions. Riding in a light aircraft was a new experience, and
Madeleine and I had only just met, so this was the only time that I enjoyed sharing the rear
seat of a C-172.
Desert landscapes can be confusing, but we could see that the conical hill of sand made
an obvious landmark for finding Ica's airport. We lined up on the runway descended toward
the numbers, rounded out, and FLOATED. Even I could tell that this didn't seem right. We
sailed passed the small terminal building, where a sleepy giant condor was standing on a rail
fence, chained by one foot. Then I noticed a boy and an old woman, each leading a burro,
walking along the side of the runway. Finally, we touched down and the pilot braked to a stop.
Then the engine roared again, and the pilot turned 180 degrees to the right and started back
taxiing down the runway. At this point, I saw the boy jack-knifed over, with his rear end
taking the propwash. The old woman just stood there, with her eyes closed, holding the reins
and waiting for the sandstorm to stop, as if this inconvenience happens all the time.
John Nogatch, Sep-01