Leg 012

"Courchevel's cousin Charallave"

This Barcelona may not be as famous at the other, but it is definitely in a great location, with fantastic scenery.

Well, I am not yet losing my marbles.  There was, indeed, a small vibration after my encounter with the carb ice in the previous leg.  It turns out that the right engine carb heat valve was stuck slightly open due to a rusty spring.  The good news?  It is a simple component that could be swapped out in a matter of two hours.  The better news?  The mechanic accepted Bitcoin payment.  And the bad news?  It set me back $2,442.

In order to recoup this expense, I decided to make myself available to transport more 'Sociedad de Tareros de Venezuela' passengers this evening.  I'm tired from this morning's two legs, but there are three passengers and a bag of cargo wanting to go to Charallave tonight in exchange for $2,872.80.  Given my expensive afternoon, it seems like the 126 mile flight isn't a bad idea.  The afternoon rain has given way to clearing evening skies, so what the heck - let's go for it.

I make a quick introduction to my new passengers, load the canvas sack and the luggage in the cargo hold and get crackin'.  Welcome aboard (checks notes) Sociedad de Tareros' flight to Charallave, folks.

Looking back on my runway 33 departure, appreciating the ground texture details.

It's a quiet evening here at Barcelona airport, so I am given immediate clearance to back taxi and depart on runway 33.  The runway is still pretty damp from the afternoon showers, but the 28 degree evening heat is quickly drying the puddles that remain.  My plan is to fly westward along the coast at 2,500 feet in order to avoid the turbulence that is forecasted to begin at 3,000.  I'll follow the coast until I see Laguna de Tacarigua, at which point I'll pass to the south and pickup Troncal 9 (highway 9) through the mountains until splitting off at Caucagua.  From there it is due west to Charallave's airport, which sits atop a 2,000 foot ridge.  I need to be at 4,500 minimum altitude by the time I am south of the Laguna.

Plan in hand, I hit the shuffle function on my playlist while back-taxiing, which fades in "Memories" by Maroon 5.  Feeling mentally fresh and physically sufficient, I push all 6 levers full forward, bringing Wanda up to rotate speed.  We lift gently off, climbing at an easy 1,000 feet per minute and turn left to follow the coast.

There's the Mechurrio Tren Utilid. fuel depot.  See those dense little rows just above the left wingtip?  According to my research, those are discarded propane tanks.

For the next 20 minutes the passengers and I are treated to fantastic textures along the north Venezuelan shoreline.  I am happy to point out one of the largest fuel depots outside of Caracas, the Mechurrio Tren.  One of the backseat passengers speaks up, telling me that his 'abuelo' worked there 'back in the day.'  I'm tempted to ask him why there are large neon green pools of wastewater just sitting there a few hundred feet from the Caribbean Sea, but I think better of the idea and hit shuffle once again.  "Heat Waves" by Glass Animals fills the awkward silence and we continue westward.

I love the golden hour of flying.  The sun is casting such a warm, yellow blanket over everything.  I can see the mountains of Parque Nacional Tirgua about 10 miles south of me, looking so calm in the vanilla twilight.  Wanda is chugging along at 158 knots TAS (185 MPH across the ground), the vibration is a memory and I am glad to be earning money for such a paradise.

The village of Puerto Píritu & the first of the three lagoons to pass.

Time passes quickly and it seems we are instantly transported to Puerto Píritu.  This medium-sized village sits just east of the first of three lagoons I must pass on this flight, the aptly-named Laguna de Puerto Píritu.  The air is completely smooth here at 2,500, so I point Wanda down the midline of the lagoon and keep flying along the coast, which will quickly take us to Laguna de Unare.

Puerto Píritu looks like a fantastic beach town.  I can easily spot neighborhoods of large, European-style villas, only blocks away from nice sandy beaches.  There seems to be several large shopping/downtown areas, all set to a magnificent backdrop of the foothills of the Parque Nacional Tirgua.  If I were to ever return to Venezuela, this is a stop I would try to make.

There's the Aquamarina de la Costa C.A. marine farm & Rio Unare.

Passing the second lagoon, the landscape becomes incredibly interesting, as we approach the silty marine farm at Aquamarina de la Costa C.A., located on the south bank of the Rio Unare.  Looking at the Aquamarina de la Costa C.A. instagram page, it seems they mostly procure salt from the muddy runoff waters of the Rio Unare.  There remains a small amount of fish hatching there, but it seems they now focus on textile exports to Nike USA and Walmart, turning their mercantile fleet into something useful once the government destroyed the fish-rearing business.

I am amazed, yet not surprised, how much a government can screw its own people.  I am an avid Ayn Rand fan, and in this moment am reminded of another of my literary heroes, Howard Roark.  If Aquamarina had a man like Roark to give it the Cortlandt treatment, I suspect there would be one less textile supplier and a lot more fish for the good people of Venezuela.

Working my way up the valley, just south of the town of El Potrero.

I decide to remove the saltiness from my thoughts and focus on the task ahead: that is, to navigate the mountain terrain that is rising in front of me.  I configure Wanda to climb up to 4,500 feet, which gives me an excellent view of the hilly landscape that surrounds me.

In less than ten minutes we pass just south of El Potrero, San Vicente and Santa Lucía.  I fly north of El Rosario de Soapire and Cartanal.

Seven miles east of my destination I catch my first glance at Charallave's Caracas International Airport 'Oscar Machado Zuloaga' (SVCS).  The runway lights are lit to their fullest and the sun's golden reflection off the still-present puddles make it stand out against the sharp ridge upon which it sits.

The mountaintop pearl of the Valles del Tuy region: Caracas International Airport 'Oscar Machado Zuloaga' in Charallave. 

I fly a nice, slow visual approach past the out-of-service hilltop VOR station, marveling at the upward slope of runway 28.  In fact, I am convinced that Caracas International Airport 'Oscar Machado Zuloaga' must be related to the famous mountain-ridge, upward-sloped Courcheval airport in the French Alps.  They both are framed by magnificent ridges, with a steep drop off the threshold.  (granted, Courchevel's drop makes Charallave's look like child's play)

We make a smooth touchdown, aided by the upward slope (even though visually it is a more difficult task), and Wanda enjoys the slow rollout to exit the runway all the way at the other end.  We arrive to our overnight parking spot, cut engines and electronics, and I get out to admire the brilliant sunset.  Overall it was a profitable day, full of excellent scenery, several challenging landing scenarios and neat airport visits.  I am excited to be one or two legs away from beginning my Caribbean island sweep, but for now I'll explore Charallave and plan the next leg that points me in the direction of Aruba.