Why Do We Need Ground Reconnaissance?
When we first started this project, we thought that flying
our kite wings around would be the quickest and easiest way
to find routes, places to explore, stopover points, landing
areas for refueling and such. We clearly weren't thinking.
The first and most serious flaw in our thinking was the distance
limitations of our aircraft. Under average circumstances we
can safely fly about 220 miles and leave a half hour reserve.
Sounds like a lot, but when you're going deep into uninhabited
territories, you have to also get back. You can't simply
land somewhere, refuel, stretch your legs and continue flying.
This means that from whatever point in civilization we embark,
we can, at most, under ideal circumstances, explore a 110
mile, straight line radius. Given the reality of variable
winds, mountains, frequent changes in altitude, the need to
not fly in a straight line while exploring - the practical
limit is about 75 miles. If we're trying to build a
route that stretches hundreds of miles through backlands that
have no facilities, this 75 mile limit just won't work.
The Western Wilderness areas are vast. For example: We wanted
to explore the topography between Las Vegas and Reno Nevada
– a distance of 250 miles. If you draw a rectangle 100
miles wide and 250 miles long, and loosely place it over a
line between the two cities, you end up with a 25,000 square
mile area (16 million acres) that contains one gas station.
It's in the town of Tonopah (population 71) in the middle
of the Tonopah Indian reservation. The nearest reasonably
flat countryside that would be friendly to a landing is about
30 miles away (Tonopah is in the Shoshone Mountains). And
the Tonopah are not known for their friendliness to strangers.
There are dozens of similar wildernesses throughout Nevada,
Utah, Arizona and New Mexico.
Plan B was to fly within an 80 mile radius of our starting
field, find landing areas, bring fuel overland, stash it,
do a second jump to the next potential landing area and continue
- repeating this hopscotch process until we approached
civilization again at the other end. We won't even begin
to describe the nightmares this created - not the least
of which were land owners who proved un-cooperative because
we had not, in advance worked anything out with them. And,
of course, finding landing areas that could easily be flown
to, but were impossible to reach overland. But the issue that
pointed most glaringly at our stupidity was this: The chances
of being able to develop real runways, hangars, fuel tanks,
etc. at whatever random landing areas popped up, was virtually
zero. We had to first find areas that we could buy, lease
or cut some deal around, and then build a suitable landing
field. That required actually talking to people in the area
under consideration. Doing this while cruising in a kite wing
required talents we just don't possess. Maybe one of
our competitor's magicians could do it. Not us.
We finally realized that some poor schmuck was going to have
to four-wheel it, do some serious exploring, and chat-up the
locals - what few we could find. That task fell to John
and I.
We took a Hummer and equipped it with extra fuel - giving
it an 800 mile off-road range. We bought water purifiers,
snake gaiters, a satellite telephone, and emergency survival
gear that various desert survivalists recommended. We carried
50 gallons of water and enough peanut butter to last for years.
And a primary and backup GPS. We took this rig on eleven excursions
into the south-west wilderness of Nevada, Utah, Arizona and
New Mexico for a total of 17 weeks of exploration.
17 Weeks in the Wilderness...
