And I Thought the Grand Canyon Was Windy!

The weather in Anchorage.

I’m preparing to take a trip to Anchorage, Alaska next week for a job interview. If all goes well, I’ll be moving up there for the summer, flying tourists around glaciers and delivering 50-gallon drums of dog food to sled dog camps via long line.

In trying to get a handle on what to pack for my 3-day trip, I’ve been monitoring the weather in Anchorage, using the National Weather Service Web site. Here’s what I read this morning at 6 AM my time (4 AM Anchorage time):

Remainder Of Tonight…Mostly cloudy with a few sprinkles. Lows in the 30s. Southeast wind 40 to 55 mph along turnagain arm and the higher elevations with occasional gusts up to 70 mph. Elsewhere southeast wind 10 to 25 mph with localized gusts to 40 mph.

Okay, I added the emphasis. The NWS evidently doesn’t think 70 mph gusts of wind is unusual, since the forecast didn’t include a weather advisory. I know there would have been one in the Wickenburg forecast page if the winds were expected to reach 70.

My Experience with Wind

I flew tours at the Grand Canyon in 2004. In the spring, the wind was howling, occasionally reaching 50 mph or more at the airport. Because we flew Bell 206L (Long Rangers), which had a two-bladed rotor system that didn’t do well in high turbulence, we’d shut down if the wind got that bad. But the experience of flying at the Grand Canyon in spring and having to deal with all of that wind made me a lot more comfortable with high winds than the pilots who haven’t had to deal with it. That’s why I always recommend flying at the Grand Canyon as a first “real” job after flight school and duty as a CFI. Lots of good experience there.

Still, I don’t expect to fly in Alaska with 70 mph gusts. (I hope my potential employer doesn’t expect me to, either.)

Yesterday, I did a flight to Scottsdale with a client. Although the winds were relatively calm when we flew down there — variable at 4 mph according to the Scottsdale ATIS recording — they were forecast with gusts to 30 mph for that afternoon. Sure enough, when we left the area at about 5:15 PM, the wind was 16 mph gusting to 23. That’s certainly not bad enough to keep me on the ground, put I did have to give the pedals a workout as I lifted off the ramp. I also had to put in a lot of directional correction against the wind when I took off, just to prevent it from blowing us over the runway (which would have gotten me in hot water with the Tower there).

What’s Wrong with Wind?

There are two things that can make high wind especially bothersome for helicopter pilots:

  • When flying in mountainous (or even hilly) terrain, the wind coming over those mountains (or hills) makes the air turbulent. Here’s how I describe it to passengers. Imagine a stream with rocks in it. As the water flows downstream, it sets up eddies and weird water flows around the rocks. The water has to go up or around the rocks in its path. It then goes down or rushes in from the sides on the downstream sides of the rocks. Can you imagine it? Now imagine the mountains or the hills as those rocks and the wind as the water. The helicopter is like a little boat bobbing around in that water. That’s the turbulence you feel when you’re flying relatively close to the ground on a windy day near rough terrain.
  • A gust spread — that’s the difference in airspeed between the steady wind and the gusting wind — sets up what probably meets the definition of wind shear. Most pilots know that a wind shear is created where the wind suddenly shifts direction or speed. A gust changes the speed, right? The result, therefore, is the same kind of turbulence you’d feel in a wind shear. The bigger the gust spread, the bigger the shear, the greater the turbulence.

Not all helicopters handle turbulence the same way. Generally speaking, a fully articulated rotor system is better for handing turbulence than a semi-articulated system. But no matter what you’re flying, you’re going to feel those bumps. So will your passengers. Fortunately, they’re likely to get sick before the pilot does.

When I flew at the Grand Canyon, the wind was so bad a few times that I started feeling sick. Some of my passengers, as you can imagine, were making full use of the plentiful barf bags we had on board.

Will Alaska Be Worse?

Right now, I’m left to wonder whether Alaska will be more of a challenge due to wind than the Grand Canyon was. Although I’d prefer calm winds — who wouldn’t? — I’m up for the wind challenge, if I have to face it.

I just hope it’s not 70 mph.

Wildlife from the Bus

In Denali National Park.

While in Denali National Park in June 2007, we took one of the shuttle buses 20 or 30 miles into the park. The shuttle bus service is very unusual — at least as far as my experience goes. It’s a glorified school bus, painted an earthy color — oddly, I can’t remember if it was beige or green! — that traveled down the park’s single dirt road, making a few bathroom/view stops along the way. But that’s not all the stopping it did. It also stopped every time we say some wildlife, whether it was a raven’s nest or a bear family. At that point, everyone on the side of the bus where the wildlife could be seen would lower their windows so we could all get shots of the wildlife.

You can read more about our day in Denali here.

I have mixed feelings about the experience. First of all, it was great to see wildlife in such a convenient way. It was especially good for folks with limited mobility — like the many older folks in the park as part of a cruise ship package. The bus made it possible for them to get the “Denali Experience” which they’d otherwise miss.

But I have a problem with limited access tourism. I believe that it has made it acceptable for us to visit natural wonders and see them through the window of a vehicle rather than to get out and experience them close-up.

You want an example? When I flew helicopters at the Grand Canyon, a good percentage of our passengers only saw the Grand Canyon from the window of a helicopter. While that’s certainly an incredible way to see the canyon, it’s certain not the only way — or, dare I say it, the best. A walk along the rim of the park is easy enough and will expose you to wildlife, the sound of the wind in the trees, the smell of the pines, the feel of the heat or cold coming out of the canyon. In other words. you use more senses than just sight. A hike or mule ride into the canyon will bring the canyon around you and make you part of its immensity. A raft trip down the Colorado River will let you experience one of the powers that carved the canyon and is still carving it today.

But this entry isn’t about the Grand Canyon. It’s about Denali and the wildlife I captured with my camera from the bus. You’ll see these photos in the header for this blog.

Raven's NestThe raven’s nest was the first wildlife we saw. The nest was in a tree not far from the road. I was fortunate enough to snap this photo of one of the raven parents returning to the nest with food for its young.

Bear FamilyThe bear family — mom and the two cubs — was a big hit. They were right near the road and we stopped for a while to watch them. Later, on another bus, we stopped to watch them again. Lots of photo ops. Unfortunately, the driver of the second bus was extremely rude and admonished anyone who had the guts to whisper when we were in the area. Too much noise, he said. As if big buses driving up and down the road all day didn’t make too much noise.

CaribouWe saw some caribou along the way. At one stop, there were several of them and a bear in sight. I snapped this photo on the return trip.

I took more photos that appear in the header in Denali. I’ll discuss them in other entries.

Mt. McKinley

From the train.

DenaliIn June 2007, we made our first-ever trip to Alaska. The first part of the trip was a short stay with friends in Anchorage, followed by a train ride to Denali National Park. The much-touted train ride was long with plenty of scenic bits. The highlight was this view of Mt. McKinley, which I snapped from our train car seat.

Mt. McKinley, which is also known as Denali, is the tallest mountain in North America. It stands over 20,000 feet (that’s nearly 6,200 meters for those of you in the rest of the world) and is perpetually snow-capped. It also is usually surrounded by clouds, as you see here. My shot is actually considered a relatively good photo, since the mountain is hidden more often than not. (The link at the beginning of this paragraph includes an excellent photo taken from within Denali National Park.)

I enjoyed the train ride to Denali but the return ride was overkill. I also wish that we’d stayed inside the park rather than in the horrible little tourist town the cruise ship companies have built just outside the park entrance. (You can read more about our trip to Denali here.) The park is full of wildlife but access is severely restricted. Although you can see plenty of animal life from the tour buses you have to take to to get more than 16 or so miles in (I can’t remember exactly), hiking is somewhat limited along the tour bus routes. The overall feeling in the park is that 99% of the visitors see everything through a bus window. That’s not how we normally experience National Parks.

Anyway, my recent trip to Alaska has made we want to visit again. Next time, I’ll spend more time in the park, away from the crowds and closer to the natural beauty that brings them there.

And maybe — just maybe — I’ll get a cloud-free glimpse of Denali.