My son and I spent a week in the Mojave with our Quicksilver during what is known as the Bryan ranch fly-in, at the end of May. We did a lot of flying while there, but one particular time stands out for me.

Steve and I had gotten to know each other over the last couple of days, and we decided to take a little flight out to El Mirage dry lake, some fifteen miles to the east. It was a warm and fairly calm morning as we got ready to go, only an hour after sunrise. We took off to the west and turned right, making a 180, or nearly so, to head for the dry lake bed. Within a few minutes we were headed towards what is known locally as the Three Sisters, a small set of hills out here in the desert. Flying fairly close together in formation, we were enjoying the smooth air and each others company. Flying with another friend is so much more enjoyable than flying alone. It requires more alertness and precision than flying alone, because you constantly need to keep an eye out for where your flying buddy is and when you fly with another, you tend to want to stay at just the same altitude, so you're watching that too. I guess maybe that is what is fun. It's taking some of the routineness out of going somewhere, giving you a little more to do than slowly watch the landscape roll by.

As we near the dry lake bed I can see gyrocopters flying along near the edges and various campers and motorhomes parked along the sides of this lake, which is 4 miles long and nearly 2 miles wide, at the widest point. We are cruising along and I see Steve reach up and turn his engine off! The prop stops. I think at first that this is crazy! Turning it off on purpose?!? But then, I remember last nights conversation, that this is the safest place to practice a dead stick, a runway at least 2 miles in any direction. I've already had my share of real dead-stick landings, so I reach up and turn mine off as well. Silence. Except for the little whistle of wind from gliding. We were at 2,000 feet when we turned off the engines, so we had some time to glide in silence. Down below us, I could see ever more activity around the edges of this dry lake as we grew nearer. Almost no one was out in the middle, where we were headed, so there was no conflict there. We were about 40 feet apart, side by side as we came in for a landing. Smooth. Quiet. I could hear the tires rolling on the hard, yet smooth surface of the lake bed as I coasted to a stop.

Steve and I got out of our planes and looked around the lake. He asked where I wanted to go, since this was already familiar territory for him. I said,"Let's go have a look around the edges, and do some low-levelling up and down the lake, I want to see what all is out here." So off we go, flying no higher than 50-100 feet, and most of the time at or below 10. We cruise along, and I notice at one end of the lake, is a small runway and some hangars. We wave to some people on the ground as we pass overhead and begin our long straightaway down the lake. As we get to the far end, I notice some guys flying R/C planes out there, and we give them enough room so that we're both comfortable. After going up and down the lake for a little while, we turn back towards Steve's airfield. On the way there, we do figure 8's in between some power poles that have long since lost their wires.

As we cross the desert, we climb a little bit, and I keep an eye out for dirt roads, which is about all that can be used for emergency landings out here. I would not want to end up hitting a joshua tree, as they seem to be anchored pretty firmly into the desert floor. I kicked one last night to see who would win in the event of an emergency landing. Definately the Joshua tree!

We land at Steve's field and talk for a bit, then I head back over to Bryan Ranch so my son can go flying. That little plane saw a lot of air time during the 5 days we were down there, and flying in an area new to me is something I won't ever forget!