How much can you put in a Mooney?
Inspiration comes in many different forms. “Oh, you have four ladies coming to town for a girls’ weekend? I think I’m going to go fly and camp somewhere.”
I have wanted to fly in and camp at the Catalina airport for a long time. Just off the taxiway at the west end of the airport is an area where you can tie down your plane and set up a tent. It isn’t Oshkosh, but a 20-minute flight will let you escape the crowds of Southern California, and your only company is the stars and the breeze. You need to pay the annual membership to the Aero Club to camp which also waives landing fees.
I picked up my new full suspension mountain bike on Thursday and after getting home put pedals on, adjusted everything, and then hoped I would be able to get a full-size mountain bike with 29” tires in a short body Mooney. There was the option of doing some hiking from the airport if it didn’t fit, but I really wanted to go on a ride Friday after getting there and then down to Avalon for breakfast on Saturday.
On Friday morning I load everything up in the truck so I can go straight from work to the airport, then settle in for a half day at the office. I’m finished with everything I need to get done a little after noon and am able to beat most of the afternoon traffic on the 5 freeway as I head north to the airport.
My tanks are topped off by the fuel truck and I’m looking at the pile of gear along with my bike and playing a little mental Tetris. It’s a good thing this is a solo camping trip of there’s no way it’s all getting in the plane. Even so, I’m still not sure if I can make it happen.
All the lighter stuff got piled in the baggage area behind the back seat and I put my duffle bag and flight bag in the back seat. It’s now the moment of truth. I slide both front seats all the way forward, slide the seat on the bike as low as the dropper will go, and then climb up on the wing walk with the bike frame. As I’m holding the right seat back forward with my knee, I am reminded that it would be nice if it would just stay in that position without my help.
I know the chain/seat stays are going to need to go over the back seat into the luggage area and maybe hat rack if I have any hope of it fitting so with a towel covering the back seat I put the bike frame through the door back first. About halfway in I realize that I need to turn it over the other direction or the handlebars and fork aren’t going to fit, so I pull it out and start again. This time it works. I can’t slide the seats all the way back, but they go back further than the position I fly in so other than the inconvenience of making it harder to get in, I’m good. I toss a towel over the bike so the wheels don’t scratch the frame and stack them on top.
I get flight following from Ground at Fullerton and am soon on my way. The tower switches me over to SoCal Departure and I’m cleared to 4,500’ and own navigation. The channel between Long Beach and Catalina is clear and I soak in the beauty of flying off the California coast. To the north and south there are some low clouds over the water and as I approach Two Harbors to make my turn towards the airport I can see areas of clouds pushed up against the island.
Arriving and setting up camp
There’s very little traffic at 2:30 in the afternoon, just one plane on the way back to the mainland as I go from 1,000’ AGL on the downwind abeam the numbers to 2,600’ AGL as I pass over the cliffs that drop to the ocean below. I’m on left base for runway 22 when another plane checks in on the frequency holding short 22 waiting for me to land. A couple minutes later after a smooth landing I’m bouncing along, rolling out on the “new and improved” yet still very bumpy runway.
I exit the runway at the first turn off to let the other plane depart and proceed up the taxiway to the west end. At a very low rpm, just enough to keep rolling but hopefully not pick up any small rocks into the prop, I taxi back down the dirt to the camping area, coming to a stop on a concrete pad where I chock the plane before heading to the tower to check in.
Frank knows my tail number and already has me checked in when I come up the stairs. I get my bike permit from him and we visit for a bit. I mention the QR code for “Bison Safety Warning” on the back of the bike permit and we talk about how they can run up to 35 mph. He tells me, “We had a guy riding his bike awhile back who saw one on the side of the road and thought he could just zip past it. He went past it but it chased him down, tossed him from the bike, and he earned a helicopter ride back to the mainland.” That story would be front and center in my mind in a couple of hours.
I tell him thanks for the permit and head back to setup camp. I’ve looked at the map and inclines involved in the ride I’m about to embark on and figure I won’t want to set up when I get back. Looking at the pile of stuff that came out of the plane I’m still amazed at what I can fit in my plane. That pile should shatter the “Mooney cabins are small” myth.
Heading out for a bike ride
With the tent setup, cot and sleeping bag ready for my return, and bike back together I ride over to the restaurant and make a stop at the water spigot to fill my hydration pack. I put the full 2.5 liters in, not knowing how much I’m going to need and like fuel in the plane it’s always better to have extra.
The route I have planned goes down to the coast on the backside of the island and then up through Middle Ranch before finally joining Airport Road on the east side and working my way back to the airport. I’ve done the rough math, and it should be between 15-20 miles and maybe 1,800-2,000’ of climbing. I erroneously thought going from the airport at 1,600’ to sea level would be all downhill and the first four miles were flowy and fun with the suspension taking some but not all of the bumps out of the ride. Coming around a corner it kicked up into a steep climb before dropping back down again all the way to a beautiful view at the coast.
I found all the Bison
Middle Ranch is right at the 10-mile mark and as I came around a bend I saw my first Bison of the ride. It was off the side of the road, but there was a huge feeding trough between us, so I kept going until I came around the next bend where I came to a quick stop. If you’re interested, apparently all the Bison hang out in Middle Ranch. They were everywhere. On the hillside to my left, in and next to the road ahead, and in the field to my right.
I’m standing there, straddling my bike, sipping on some water, and pondering my options. I don’t want to go back the way I came. I know I’m over halfway through the ride and I have done a lot of climbing so the idea of going back downhill to go back up as I have sweat dripping off my chin isn’t very appealing. There’s no way around them going forward, side streets don’t exist in the interior of the island, and with them in and next to the road I’m not going through them.
A little help shows up
I decided to take a forced rest stop and see if the ones near the road move along. After a few minutes I’m down to just two next to the road when I see a white pickup truck come around the corner and stop to take some pictures of the Bison from the safety of the truck before rolling down to me. It’s a ranger in a Catalina Conservancy truck.
Me: “How’s it going?”
Ranger: “You feel comfortable going through here?”
Me: “I’m waiting for this last one to cross. There was a bunch of them standing in the road so I’m like I guess this is a forced rest stop.”
Ranger: “You know if you want you can toss your bike in the back and I’ll drive you past them. Or you can wait, I can probably get that one to move.”
Me: “If they’re over here am I fine on the road?” (I say pointing to the ones in the field to my right.)
Ranger: “Yeah. Let me try to get this one moved for you, yeah?”
Me: “It’s thinking about going.”
Ranger: “There’s a male there right now and it’s the rutting season so they’re a little extra aggressive.
Me: “Somebody out here is kind of snorting and everything.”
Ranger: “The big one is a male.” (Pointing to my right at a bull about 50 yards away.)
Me: “Is it this guy right here in the middle?”
Ranger: “Yeah.”
The last one finally moved off the road up ahead.
Ranger: “You should be good, probably get out of here pretty quickly though, I wouldn’t linger.”
She started backing up and I paced her on the other side, keeping her and her truck in between me and the Bison. When we were past the last one, I gave her a wave and shouted thank you. The rest of the ride was uneventful with a couple really steep sections where I ran out of gears and had to walk. I pushed the bike up, held the brakes, stepped up next to it, and repeated the process. By the time I rolled back up to my tent I had gone 17.3 miles and climbed 2,445’ and I was regretting my regular ride I had done that morning.
I settled in for a dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and watched the sunset, alone at the airport. It cooled down and I got some decent sleep, woken up a few times by the breeze blowing past the tent. Around 3am under the full moon I could see the whole airport, clouds below, and stars above, it was beautiful.
Do I ride to Avalon?
As I lay there with my tired legs, I briefly considered cancelling my ride to Avalon and having breakfast at the airport but when I woke up to the sun rising above the clouds, I decided that even if I needed multiple breaks on the way back it would be worth it, and it was.
Halfway through the 10-mile ride to Avalon, still with Bison on my mind, I heard a noise in the brush just to my right. I was relieved to see it was four deer bounding along and I watched until they cut across the road about 50’ in front of me and disappeared down the hill. Most of the road is in very poor condition, and you climb 627’ in the process of going down 1,600’, but the final 3 miles of steep winding turns is on good pavement, and it was a blast going down. The clouds I rode through on the way down were gone on the way back up and revealed amazing vistas.
The early Saturday arrivals were showing up as I broke camp and loaded the plane and climbed inside. I idled there on the concrete pad letting the engine warm up. Then I added enough throttle to get rolling off the pad before pulling it back to again, hopefully not picking up any rocks into the prop.
The channel below had a low patchy marine layer covering most of it before giving way to clear but hazy skies right at the coast. It was a great trip only made possible with the Mooney. In just 20 minutes I had escaped the bustle of Southern California and enjoyed a piece of this beautiful world we live in.
