On approach to Torrington, the density altitude was reported as 5,000 feet. Since the airport is at 4,200 feet, that isn't a lot higher than the actual elevation, but I was already looking at this as a good warmup for the next few stops, where Buffalo would likely be the highest airport at 4,970 feet. For all you Western States flyers, these numbers are probably laughably low. But keep in mind that the highest airport I've landed at in Alaska is pretty low...probably PAIN at 1,720 feet. I definitely don't feel like a high altitude wizard.
The winds were light and somewhat indeterminate, but apparently sort of favored runway 10, so we flew downwind, got a look, and negotiated with an ag plane on the ground for sequencing of our arrival and his departure. As we came down, the airspeed and the groundspeed were noticeably at odds with each other. We started mushing while moving over the ground at speeds I don't usually expect, but the airspeed indicator doesn't lie. It played its normal tune, and we ended up touching down with a nice landing and getting a little help from the Unicom operator to figure out where we were taxiing to. The fuel tanks weren't apparent, and the fueling equipment was housed in little cubes that looked like weather covers, so I didn't recognize it as a fueling station.
We hit the restrooms, sat around and flew the armchairs for a few minutes with the gentlemen that were there, then loaded up and headed out. Still 5,000 foot density altitude. Still sort of favoring runway 10. We lined up and leaned to best power, then launched. The airplane took a little while longer than normal to get to flying speed, then started lifting off nicely. I verified positive rate of climb, reached down, and stowed the flaps. I didn't just dump them, but I didn't exactly milk them off either. We immediately started sinking back down to the runway, and mushing along. Pushed the nose down, watched the airspeed indicator, and we flew most of the runway between 50 and 100 feet AGL before we got enough speed up to be absolutely positive that re-initiating climb was not going to be a disappointment.
Hmmm...
Guess I better think about how I am going to do that, starting with the flaps are going to come up slowly next time...
We turned on course toward Buffalo and headed into the undeveloped country. We were climbing up to get above terrain, but we were going to try to climb higher than we needed to as a bit of a test. One of the routes we were considering taking was over Yellowstone National Park after leaving Buffalo. En route altitudes for that adventure were going to need to be in the 10,000 foot range, or close to it. Clouds on the landscape made for a lovely view, but there was definitely some vertical air movement going on.

We made 8,500 feet with no problem, but we were getting close enough to get increasing levels of updrafts and downdrafts, and we didn't have enough climb authority to feel like we could accurately hold our altitude in the face of the thermal activity. At one point we hit 8,900 feet, followed shortly by 8,250 feet. Which gave me pause. If we encountered similar thermal activity at similar altitudes over Yellowstone, we might find ourselves doing a high speed taxi instead of flying...
As we flew across the major expanse of high plains, I punched in nearest on the GPS to see what airports were around, as I like listening to the most relevant traffic. The nearest airport was over 50 miles away. That was unexpected. Those are Alaska sorts of gaps in infrastructure.
Nearing Buffalo, the breaks started to become pretty impressive below. I can only imagine the slow nature of foot passage over those folds in the earth, having never been down in them.

Looking at Buffalo, I knew exactly where the runway had to be, both because I remembered it from before and also because it was clearly indicated by the GPS. But it was still very difficult to pick out. Have a look at this photo, perhaps you'll see what I mean...

The wind favored a landing on 13, which is a slight downhill, but with winds around 10 kts, the downhill was a better option, so we entered left downwind for 13. A low-wing plane on the ground started taxiing and a Centurion called in from 10 north. We came around and landed while the low-winger was waiting at the taxiway, and the Centurion landed after we taxied off.
We taxied over to Johnson County Aero, where we parked last time we were here, and parked. I went in to ask about tie downs and fuel, and noticed the signs in the window. Apparently the owner has had enough. The signs indicated he would rather collect welfare than continue fighting to run the business. And it appeared he didn't appreciate the results of the most recent election, as that figured prominently on one of the signs.
I ran into him inside and he indicated he wasn't selling fuel anymore, as the self-serve installation around the corner had undercut him too much to make it worthwhile to continue.
On the way back out, the Centurion pilot came by and we chatted for a while. This was the polar opposite experience. The gentleman was incredibly upbeat about the day, the great weather, and the fact that he had been so happy about the weather he had commuted to work by plane that day, and was just getting back. Life was good.
Sort of like running into the two faces from the theatrical society logos in rapid succession.
Our friend Albert came and picked us up and Cedric got to go have all his hopes verified. He later told me that we had done a terrible job describing the awesomeness that Albert had stored in his trophy rooms.



I can see why he might like it...I pretty much like it myself...