Today is the 70^th Anniversary of Japan’s surprise attack on Pearl Harbor that resulted in the United States actively entering World War II.  Over 2,400 Americans were killed and some 1,200+ wounded in the raid.  The Japanese forces damaged all eight US battleships in their berths, as well as three cruisers, three destroyers, and other vessels.  One hundred eighty plus US airplanes were destroyed as well.

The Pearl Harbor Survivors Association, founded in 1958, is dissolving at the end of this year.  The Association has stated that there are simply too few living survivors to continue.  It’s a sad realization that this precious living history is leaving us forever.

As our veterans pass on, take a moment to reflect on their sacrifices, as well as the sacrifices of those who died during World War II and their families.  Do something to honor our veterans, from all periods and conflicts, sometime in the next few months.  Dozens of options are out there--donate to a veterans charity, write a letter or send a care package to troops serving overseas away from their families during the holidays, or to service members recovering from injuries, read a history book or a veteran’s memoirs, visit a museum, etc.

I know it’s been quiet here—for my part, it’s due to just getting back into the swing of things post knee-injury, plus busy times at work and with life.  I got to fly only once in October—my first solo flight since the summer and I spent it working on brushing up—some slow flight, practice stalls, steep turns, landings, etc.  November was a bit better with some solo time, including working on night currency practice.

We chat here on the blog a lot about the joys of flying and the thrill we get from sharing aviation with folks.  We tell our loved ones that we don’t honestly expect that everyone will love flying the same way we do (but deep down, we really DO believe that anyone introduced to a taste of aviation will have an immediate, all-consuming, undying passion for it.) 

So in honor of giving thanks for the blessings I’ve enjoyed in life that allow me to fly, I was really excited Thanksgiving weekend, with the absolutely gorgeous weather we enjoyed in the northeast, to take some longtime friends for rides. I’ve known Lisa some 25+ years and shared a lot of laughs (and some tears) with her and her family over the years—getting to see her marry Pat and raise their two great kids, Christopher and Kaley. 

Michiko and I flew in to Meriden Markham (KMMK), a 10 minute hop from Bridgeport, on a smooth-as-silk sunny morning.  Since the wind was calm, we joined the downwind for Runway 18 and I had such a gentle touchdown that Michiko congratulated me. (I think it was actually a compliment, rather than a commentary about my other landings!).  Lisa, Pat, the kids and Lisa’s mother Gail were already waiting for us outside the closed FBO, waving as we taxiied in.

After hugs all around, I walked the kids around the airplane in an abbreviated pre-flight.  They had great questions and surprised me with things like knowing what would happen when the aileron was turned—what would happen to the wing and why….pretty impressive!

For the first sortie, we buckled Kaley and Gail in the back seat and I showed them seat belts and the headsets.  Then Pat took the front seat and we got settled in.  I briefed the flight for everyone, and then had Pat run through the start-up checklist for me as we fired up the engine. 

Within a few minutes we were easily lifting into the air and climbing straight out to 1,100 feet before turning east (noise abatement procedure for KMMK).  We flew over the top of Wallingford’s town center and headed east towards Middletown.  I pointed out the Hartford city skyline to the north and Long Island Sound to the south.  At the Connecticut River, I turned south and we followed the river down, overflying the Goodspeed Opera House (where Lisa used to work), Goodspeed Airport, Gillette Castle, Deep River’s marinas and the lighthouses at the mouth of the river.  Then we followed the shoreline of Long Island Sound eastwards to Hammonassett. 

Gail enjoyed the views of the nice houses along the shoreline on our starboard side, while Kaley pointed out boats speeding along the Sound and lighthouses.  Then we headed back north towards Meriden.  I tried to slow up a little as we approached the airport so that they could watch for familiar landmarks in Wallingford, but the airport is so close to town and we were approaching from the departure end of the runway, I didn’t want to linger too long in case other planes were entering the pattern or taking off.

As I talked through all the noises of power reduction, gear coming down, flaps coming down, etc., we entered the downwind leg for landing on Runway 18 again.  As we turned onto the base leg, Kaley (as I’d asked everyone to do) called out two big white swans taking off from the lake off the approach end of the runway.  They were well below us but I thanked her for spotting them for me.

A greaser of a landing and we were quickly parked.  My passengers were thrilled with the ride, with Gail commenting on my terrific narrative of landmarks throughout the flight.   Kaley was glowing too, saying she wants to be a pilot! 

For the next sortie, Lisa and Michiko took the back seat and Christopher buckled in to the front seat.  I briefed the flight again and had Christopher read the checklist for me as we started up.  Again we launched into smooth air and I ended up repeating almost the same route (boring, I know, but it offers a bunch of interesting easily-spotted landmarks along the way).  This time though (sorry Pat), I gave Christopher the controls for a good chunk of the flight, coaxing him through keeping us straight and level and a couple of gentle turns.   He did a great job and was gentle on the controls—most first timers really yank the yoke around and upset the rear seat passengers!  He was also an eagle eye, pointing out an airplane crossing in front of us, 1,000 feet above.

I tried to slow down again as we came in over Wallingford and Lisa was pointing out Christopher’s school and church to him as joined an extended downwind leg for Runway 18.    I flew a long downwind so that Christopher could get a better view of the castle on the mountain north of the airport, and then did a long final approach.  We ended up a little high, so I dumped in the third notch of flaps and we ended with a smooth landing and rollout.

Everyone (self included) had a great time flying and we enjoyed a great pizza lunch afterwards, relishing being able to kick back and visit with friends for a couple of hours before our short hop back to Bridgeport.   

Hopefully we’ll all get to fly again soon!

On Saturday, Len and I decided to head out to Block Island (KBID) for breakfast on what dawned as an absolutely gorgeous fall weekend, with crisp air, sunny skies and a gentle breeze.  We preflighted the airplane and I got our clearance to taxi to runway 6 for our eastward departure.  The run-up went smoothly with Len reading me the checklist.  Then it was lights, camera, action and we were lifting off.

As soon as I pulled the gear up, the amp indicator was flickering a bit and Len saw the EDM (engine monitor the displays oil temps, cylinder temps, battery usage, etc.) shut down and automatically restart.  As we continued our climb, the amp indicator and the EDM continued their mysterious behavior.  The EDM finished its reset process and then did it all over again. 

By now, we were almost to our cruise altitude of 2,500 feet.  Len commented that he didn’t like the EDM recycling and I noted I didn’t like the amp gauge looking like it was a very fast ping pong ball, so we banked right and called back to Bridgeport that we were coming back for landing.  I explained that we were having electrical issues and the tower immediately cleared us to land, directing another airplane in the pattern to start doing left traffic (counterclockwise).

The tower asked if we were declaring an emergency and I said no that we were just making a precautious landing.  I had meant to say that we were just being cautious and making a precautionary landing, but it came out precautious.  Len looked over at me with a raised eyebrow and said “precautious?”  I laughed and said I think I’d just invented a word.

As we descended back to pattern altitude, I dropped the gear to slow us down.  Suddenly, all the electrial issues vanished—the EDM was behaving itself and the amp indicator was perfectly still.  The rest of the approach and landing went smoothly (albeit a little low on final approach—the PAPI lights were out of service—so I kept a little extra power in to maintain altitude).  Touchdown was smooth and the rollout fine except for a bit of shimmying.

As we taxiied back to the ramp, we tried to deduce what might be wrong—maybe something connected to the gear pump/drive motor?

Alas, breakfast turned out to be a local diner, but better safe than sorry.

And unfortunately, it turns out that precautious is already in the dictionary as an adjective—using or displaying precaution.  So as Len noted, I couldn't even get credit for that!

No this isn't another one of those aborted flights somewhere when we had to drive back....

Seven and a half weeks after a knee injury sidelined me for a while, I finally got back into the air this weekend for some much needed flying with friends.  (I’m in the process of getting medical clearance letters from my doctors so that I can get okayed by the FAA to fly as legal PIC again—hopefully not too optimistically by 1 October.)

Len picked me up right at 8am and we headed out to the Cardinal.  It had been a few weeks since he had flown as well, so both of us were itching to go.  In addition, we planned to pick up Jill at Westchester before heading out to Cherry Ridge.  Neither Jill nor Len had been out there before.

Len was to take the first leg and started pre-flighting the airplane as I set up my new toy that I hadn’t yet been able to test out, a Zaon PCAS XRX (http://www.zaon.aero/content/view/12/40/).   The Zaon is a portable collision avoidance system that helps point out other aircraft, including providing approximate direction, range, and relative altitude, including whether the target is ascending or descending.  In essence, it is like having an extra set of eyes scanning for traffic.

As I finished hooking up the Zaon, I heard a thunk from the engine.  Looking up, I saw Len peering into the small hatch where we check the oil dipstick and the quick drain release for testing the fuel sump.  He rummaged for a flashlight and told me his keys had dropped into the engine compartment somewhere.  Both of us spent the next 20 minutes peering with flashlights into every nook and cranny and sticking our fingers and arms into whatever areas we could reach from the wheel well, cowl flaps, etc.

Finally we came to the realization we would have to take the entire top of the cowl (think engine hood) off.  Luckily it’s just held on by lots of Phillips head screws, so both of us grabbed our Leatherman tools and got to work.  I had a couple of zip lock bags from the Zaon packaging, so I put all the port side screws into one bag and all of the starboard screws into the other—while trying to remember approximately where each screw came from, since there were a couple of different sizes.

The cowl came neatly off and there were the offending keys, wedged (of course) behind a support strut on a small shelf behind an engine component where they were impossible to see from any position with the cowl on.  With the keys fished out, we replaced the cowl and quickly put the screws back in, double and triple-checking everything was in and tight. 

So after an hour long pre-flight, we finally strapped in and fired up the Cardinal for the quick hop to HPN to pick up Jill (who took a nap in her car while waiting for us!).  As we taxied out, there was still some horribly loud static in the headsets, a mystery Len was still trying to resolve between his avionics guy and his mechanic…each thought it was something in the other’s purview.  Once we took off, however, the static was quiet.  Len commented that the last time he had flown the airplane, it had been the opposite problem—the static was while flying, but not while taxiing.

It was fairly shmutzy visibility as we left BDR and flew towards HPN.  We contacted NY Approach and were given a squawk for our transponder and told to expect a right downwind for runway 34.  Len soon had us on the ground and we taxied into Panorama, where Jill was already walking across the tarmac.  With a quick exchange of kisses, she was in the back seat and we were soon taxiing back out.

Taking off on runway 34, we were instructed to head to the Tappan Zee Bridge at or below 1,500 feet.  A Piper Tri-Pacer had taken off runway 29 just before us so we worked to keep him in sight as he was also heading for the Tappan Zee.   At the Hudson, we picked up flight following from NY Approach and climbed up to 3,000 feet, where it was shmutzy but tolerable. 

As we flew across southern NY state, we could see the remnants of flooding, including numerous farm fields in Rockland County that were still under water.  We chatted a little bit, but with the visibility so poor, we were all scanning pretty hard, especially as we passed Greenwood Lake and Orange County. The Zaon wasn’t showing any targets close by, however, and neither was NY Approach warning us of traffic, so I’m guessing more than a few people were staying on the ground or remaining in the patterns.  Len’s smooth flying lulled Jill to sleep after a while.

Soon we were approaching Cherry Ridge and heard an aircraft just departing the field to the south.  We gave and received position reports and sure enough, the Zaon picked up the target a few miles out, providing its altitude and tracking it as it moved from our 12 o’clock, to our 10, to our 8 o’clock until it fell off the scope. 

Len overflew the field and joined the downwind for runway 36, putting us down right on the spot and rolling out.  We were soon parked up on the ramp and getting a big hello from Martha at the Airport Cafe.  With a little breeze going, we opted to sit in the shade on the deck where Jill begged Martha for an IV drip of caffeine.  Once properly stimulated, she then pulled out the iphone to show us pictures of her new kittens (and grandchild, but most of the pictures were of kittens).

Lingering with a gentle breeze in the shade, chatting with friends and finally properly refueled with coffee and food (I swear by the Big B now—a little bit of everything in there!), we headed back out to the airplane for the trip home.  When I had checked in with Michiko upon landing at Cherry Ridge, she excitedly told me that our power had finally come back on after Tropical Storm Irene a week before—so I was excited to head home to electricity for a change!

I took the return legs.  It was a bit stickier as we taxied out at Cherry Ridge and I left plenty of room for our takeoff, with the plane configured for a short-field takeoff, running the power up almost to full before I released the brakes.  I probably could have squeezed a few more feet out of the runway for my takeoff roll, especially as takeoffs with three people at Cherry Ridge seem to be long low, slow affairs.

Climbing back up into the shmutz, we got flight following from Wilkes-Barre Approach and pointed the airplane towards HPN.  The static was loud now, even in the air and was really annoying.  Jill had been trying both headset jacks in the back seats, but we were all getting the static.  Trying to find some way to see what might be causing it, I finally hit the crew isolation button on the radio panel, cutting off Jill.  To our amazement and relief, the static disappeared.  We gave Jill a heads up that we were going to isolate her and had blissful quiet for the remainder of the flight—which also let us know that the problem most likely rests with the rear headset jacks that Len had had installed.

As we approached HPN, Len gave me a great tip—from the Tappan Zee Bridge, aim for 100 degrees and it will take you right to HPN.  We were originally given instructions for the left base to runway 34, but since we were going to Panorama, I requested runway 29 which the tower gave us happily…this would allow us to roll out right to Panorama’s doorstep.  We were cleared #2 to land behind a Cessna, who appeared to take off from runway 11 and do a slow 180-degree maneuver and land on runway 29.

As we came onto short final, the tower cleared a passenger jet to take off from runway 34.  Another jet waiting to take off commented to the tower that we were on short final already and the tower replied that everything was fine, they do this type of thing all the time.  Despite the tower’s confidence in themselves, I decided to land long (past the runway intersection) to get a little more time for the jet to clear my path and greased a landing.

With goodbyes to Jill, we were soon back into the air for the short flight back to Bridgeport through the haze.  We were cleared for the right downwind to runway 24 and we were again home, the Cardinal making my landings look easy and good.

What a great way to spend a Saturday morning, especially after so many weeks on the sidelines!  Thanks to Len and Jill for a terrific time!

Last week, I had an itch to fly and found Milton was interested in doing the same.  He really wanted to shoot some approaches, so we formulated a plan to meet at Old Bridge and shoot them in Gigi.  After encountering some rude transient pilots who decided to park two airplanes so as to block the pumps and then proceed to sit and chat for a while, we fueled up and headed north.

Milton had his iPad on his kneeboard and was trying to get used to it when, with his head down, he entered a 30 degree banked turn and started letting the nose fall.  I let it go until he caught the fact that something was amiss, and corrected the problem.  Shortly after that, he removed the iPad and used my laptop for the charts.  The difference is that my laptop is at eye level whereas his iPad was on his knee.

I vectored him onto the ILS at Orange County (MGJ) and he let the autopilot fly the approach for the first one.  A lovely approach right down to minimums and he went missed, though I could see the runway for the entire approach.  The second one was another ILS but handflown down to minimums.  Third was the same.  On the fourth one, I gave him a partial panel and he shot it better than the other two!

So enough with the ILSes, we go missed and up into the hold over Huguenot VOR (HUO).  Milton executed a beautiful teardrop entry and held perfectly. Then I cleared him for the VOR 8 approach.

The VOR 8 into MGJ has a few stepdown fixes that have DME distances from HUO.  The DME in Gigi has a switch which allows the REMOTE frequency to come from either the Nav 1 or Nav 2 radio.  Milton forgot to switch this and was using DME from Sparta VOR instead of Huguenot.  Normally the mistake would've been clearly displayed on the GPS/Laptop, but by strange occurrence, the plate wasn't properly calibrated.  This meant the little airplane depicted on the screen wasn't where we actually were, and, in fact was miles behind us.

DME reading was 21NM when we started the approach (from overhead HUO).  It climbed up to 23 when Milton next checked it.  Milton was looking for a DME of 9 before leaving 2800', which he never got because the DME frequency was wrong.  The little airplane showed us outside of the 9DME fix the entire time, and never moved any closer to it.  To his credit, he never descended and realized something was amiss and was trying to resolve it but couldn't before I ended the situation.

The funniest part of the night was during this whole episode when Milton asked me, "Do you ever think they'll approve handhelds for full IFR use."  My reply was "No way, because look, there you are over Orange County and the laptop shows you back about 8 miles west of here!."

The night was finished off with another VOR 8, just to make it right, two excellent night landings at MGJ, a flight down the Hudson corridor and a 3rd night landing at Old Bridge.

 

Last Wednesday, I had planned to act as Safety Pilot for a friend who just bought a Mooney 201.  He's planning on starting his IR training soon and wanted to get some hood time.  That and he overfilled his tanks, so he needed to burn off fuel so that he could make weight and balance before his next flight with four people onboard.

The usual summer day atmosphere dawned here in NYC, the three "Hs" were in order, hazy, hot and humid.  The forecast was for scattered clouds in the afternoon, more of the usual.  That afternoon, the haze was a bit thicker than usual, and the clouds were either clear or a thin totally overcast layer, I couldn't tell.  When we drove over the Verazanno Bridge, the answer was obvious.  It was overcast at about 700'.  Half way across Staten Island, the clouds disappeared and we were under clear skies, but the concern for the weather was instilled in us.

A call to flight service confirmed that things were changing and no one had any idea what was going to happen or how long that might take.  Newark was already showing few clouds at 1000'.  Since my friend is not instrument rated and I am not insured as PIC in his Mooney, we decided the best bet was to use Gigi for the night and burn off his gas some other time.

Since I wanted to do some instrument approaches (to stay current and feel comfortable) I filed a flight plan to Gabreski (KFOK) on Long Island, where the weather was reported to be about 400' overcast.  Along the way I planned to make a few approaches at Brookhaven and maybe Islip.

Old Bridge was under clear skies, and the drag races were just getting started next door.  We got a clearance from McGuire Approach (RBV V276 DIXIE V16 JFK CCC) and took off into the night sky.  After checking in with McGuire and being cleared direct DIXIE (along with the perfunctory "UNABLE" and then a vector) we were handed off to NY Approach.  Just south of JFK, they turned us on a vector and gave us a descent to 3000'.  At this point we were in a dark night sky over a complete overcast so we started a discussion of what "actual instruments" means.  Specifically, if my friend (who was sole manipulator at the time) could log actual instrument or if he should log simulated since he was also wearing a hood. 

The switch to 118.0 came and I advised the controller that we'd like some practice approaches at Brookhaven (HWV) before Gabreski.  We already had the weather (Overcast at 400') and requested the ILS6.  The first approach was a bit off to the right, but only by about 1 dot, and I brought it down to about 380'.  We were still very much in the clouds, and since we had no intention of landing, I thought it best to go missed.

During the missed approach, I realized this is only the second missed approach in actual conditions that I'd ever flown.  Aside from being busy, it wasn't any different from a missed in simulated conditions.  I flew to MAIDS intersection and held (at my request) and then requested a second ILS 6 into HWV, just for more practice.  The second was right on the path, and I flew a "+" all the way down to just above minimums (353' whereas minimums were 309').  The clouds were still thick with no visible ground, so I knew the extra 44 feet would've made no difference.

Since the weather was changing so dynamically, and Newark was now reporting scattered at 600', I figured we'd better run back to Old Bridge before the clouds got there.  Our clearance was CCC DPK JFK COL which I knew wouldn't happen, but whatever.  Sure enough a bunch of vectoring around JFK and then a vector towards 3N6 for the visual back into home.  The clouds disappeared around Sandy Hook, and Navy pier was clear as a bell.

Good practice and an early arrival back at home, made for a great night!

A couple of weeks ago, I got a little more solo time in the Cardinal.  On a clear cool Sunday morning, I took her up for an hour, just to go flying and shake off the daily stresses of life.  It was just a leisurely journey up the Housatonic River to Cornwall and back to Bridgeport, but the visibility was great.  Eavesdropping on the tower at Danbury as I flew over their airspace, I heard the controller cheerfully greeting pilots like old friends as they moved around and over the airport.  She told one pilot she was jealous because she heard the air was as smooth as glass—I murmurred to myself that she was dead on—it was a joy.

A little east of Kent, I did some 2 min turns around a point, just for the fun of it.  One of my points was a beautiful castle-looking structure about 2 miles east of Cornwall Bridge and 2 miles south of the town of Cornwall in a little valley.  When I did some research later, it’s aptly situated on “Castle Road.”

CHALLENGE:  There’s an interesting topographical design just under 2 miles to the southwest of the Castle—see if you can spot it from the air.  Satellite imagery doesn’t count!

On Sunday, more than a year after obtaining my IFR ticket, I finally did my first solo instrument approaches through actual instrument conditions.  It was an overcast day with a low pressure system lingering in the area, generating low clouds at about 1,600-1,800 feet along the CT shoreline.  The winds were light and variable on the surface and from the west at 3,000 feet.

After looking at the weather for the umpteenth time during the day, I filed my flight plan in the afternoon for a round-robin from Bridgeport to Groton and then back to Bridgeport.  The briefing was quick and didn’t offer any new information beyond what I’d found in my various weather resources.

After doing a careful pre-flight and run-up, including the extra-thorough IFR checklist I learned out at Sportys last year, I picked up my clearance—Bridgehaven 5 departure, radar vectors to Madison VOR, 126 degree radial from MAD to MONDI intersection, which is the initial fix for the ILS 5 approach at Groton.  The clearance delivery person apologized, saying that NY did not do round-robin IFR flights and advised that I would have to make the request to re-file for the return leg once at Groton.  

I was cleared for a quick takeoff on Runway 6.  No more than 200 feet into the air, Bridgeport tower switched me over to NY Approach who had me climb to 3,000 feet as they gave me radar vectors.  I went into the overcast sky at about 1,800 feet and by 3,100 was in the clear sunshine above.  As I continued my climb, Approach bumped me to 4,000 feet and then to 5,000 feet—pretty high for a 30 min leg where the approach starts at 1900 feet.

Crossing MAD, I turned southeast and tracked the 126-degree radial on both the GPS and the Nav 2 VOR.  Then I got the Nav 1 VOR radio tuned for the ILS and dialed in the final approach course of 048 degrees.  Before I got to MONDI, NY Approach handed me off to Providence Approach who seemed less harried and more cheerful.  After confirming heading with Providence, I requested to file for the return leg and Providence said they would work it out and let me know after I flew the published missed approach.  I quickly took a quiet minute to re-brief the ILS 5 approach and the published misssed procedures.

Still above the clouds, Providence started me descending and, as I approached Mondi, gave me a turn onto the final approach course as I entered the clouds.  I double and triple checked everything on the approach, including that NAV 1 radio was on the localizer frequency (not the Groton VOR) and that Nav 2 radio was loaded up for the missed approach.  As I captured the glideslope (while still outside the final approach fix (PINET intersection), Providence cleared me for the approach and handed me off to Groton tower.  I got the gear down and the first notch of flaps to stabilize a nice easy descent to stay on the glideslope.

I was so focused on flying the instruments and the radio calls, I almost forgot that I was flying solo in clouds on an approach, with nothing to see outside, knowing there was only Long Island Sound below me.  I gave Groton tower a call and they cleared me for a low approach and then the published missed approach.

At about 1600 feet, I broke out of the clouds and found it gloomy, but pretty good visibility.  I snatched a glance up and could barely make out the runway about 4 miles away.  Keeping the VOR needles for the localizer and the glideslope centered, I had a perfect 500’ per minute descent, with the airplane trimmed well.  At 500’ I did another GUMPS check, still with just under 300’ to descend to the decision height of 207’.

I finished off the approach with a low pass down the runway at 200 feet.  Then I started a climb and cleaned up the airplane while turning slightly right to head for the missed approach hold point.  Providence had other ideas though and cleared me for my flight back to Bridgeport, giving me the CREAM intersection (southeast of MAD VOR out on the Long Island Sount) and then vectors towards Bridgeport.  They also had me climb back up to 6,000 feet and I once again popped through the clouds into warm sunshine on top.

The trip back seemed fairly long, but it gave me time to brief the ILS 6 approach at Bridgeport and get the plane set up for it.  Once I was switched over to NY Approach again, they gave me a descent to 4,000 and then 3,000 feet.  The controller was working a couple of other aircraft into Bridgeport and at one point called out a Cessna Skylane that went over the top of me, 1,000 feet above. 

At about 3,000 feet, I was skimming the tops of the clouds, which really made my speed feel faster than the 130 knots.  Every once in a while I was punching through thicker wisps of cloud, but the air was still very smooth.

With STANE (the final approach fix for the ILS 6) at about my 4 o’clock position, the controller deftly gave me a couple of right turns and lined me up about 2 miles from STANE and cleared me for the approach and handed me off to Bridgeport tower.  With the gear down and 90 knots dialed in,  I was again in the clouds as I crossed STANE at 1,800 feet, but as I started my descent, I broke out again at about 1,600 feet to gloominess but a runway in sight up ahead. 

Keeping the needles centered on the VOR, I ran through another GUMPS check and brought the plane down to decision height of 307’.  Second notch of flaps added, I switched to visual and kept the VASI lights pegged with 2 red and 2 white and made a smooth landing and rollout.

Then I started breathing again.  It was a really rewarding experience to finally do solo approaches in actual IMC.  Nothing overly demanding, like flying to minimums, but challenging enough.  And it was great to see that all of the reinforced accelerated training out at Sportys and the practice since has really stayed with me, including the GUMPS checks and fixing the other little niggling things that had earlier plagued me during my training.  I’m sure there were a couple of little things I could have been smoother about during the flight, but it really all came together well and I feel thrilled.  My thanks once again to Eric, Dan and Len for getting me to (and keeping me at) this point. 

Since everyone has a different view on things, and since our Key West trip was a stunning success, I’ll give my views on trip in an attempt to bring everyone up to speed.

Having done a good bit of testing in Gigi (my 1959 K35 Bonanza) prior to the trip, I determined that the power settings that we used last year resulted in getting us to Key West later than if we slowed down!  Last year we used 75% power and made two stops before we had our problem.   75% power resulted in 158 Knots per hour, but at a fuel burn rate of almost 15 gallons per hour.  I’ve now discovered that 65% power and lean of peak results in 140 Knots and just less than 10 gallons per hour!  All this meant that planning a 650NM leg was genuinely possible, and our 1200NM trip could be completed with just one fuel stop.

With that good information in mind, we decided to meet at 5:30AM on Saturday and attempt to make just one stop when southbound.  I filed an IFR flight plan to Metter, Georgia, some 642 Miles away!  Metter had very cheap gas and wasn’t far out of our way.  The route was CYN V1 ISO V157 LOTTS (Coyle, NJ along Victor 1 airway to Kinston, NC to LOTTS intersection in Georgia then to Metter).

The morning hadn’t yet dawned when I woke up and showered.  I grabbed the iPod and GPS off the chargers and planned to check weather when I was in the car.  The view from my front door told me most of what I needed to know.  The fog was so dense, I could barely see the mall across the street from my house (about 1/8 mile away).  Driving was fun in that kind of fog, and Jill reported she almost lost the road at one point.

I got to Old Bridge, just before 5:30 and started by releasing the tie downs and Asking Gigi to be good to us over the next two days.  The plane was newly washed and waxed (6 hours in the sun gave me some nice color…red) and the oil was golden brown on the dip stick.  I had previously topped off the tanks in preparation for the flight, so after a thorough preflight inspection, we were ready to go… Except that I was the only one there!

Jill arrived shortly thereafter but Liz was delayed due to a “very efficient” DUI checkpoint at the Holland Tunnel.  While waiting, the fog lifted to the point where a little more than half the runway could be seen.  The wind was dead calm.

I didn’t realize it before but Runway 24 has different takeoff minimums than runway 6.  I would need standard departure minimums to takeoff on Runway 24, and I didn’t have that.  So, rather than delay, we decided to depart on runway 6.  I called McGuire Approach just before 6AM and got our clearance.

At 6:07AM, running at 60 Knots, Gigi, Jill, Liz and I rotated off the runway at Old Bridge, NJ with just over 2400 miles of flying planned ahead of us.  We were in IMC almost instantly and totally lost sight of the ground.  The gear came up, we were pitched for 90 Knots and by the time the wheels were fully retracted we had broken out of the clouds into clear skies and beautiful sunshine.  I turned on course, and contacted McGuire.

It took a little while, but McGuire eventually got us to 6000’ and we setup our LOP cruise at 65% power and 9.5 GPH.  Our groundspeed readout showed 155 Knots with a tailwind.  In a seemingly never ending bout of frequency changes we went from McGuire, to Atlantic City Approach, to Dover Approach, to Patuxtent Approach and on to Washington Center.  Just after the NJ southern coastline, the clouds dissipated and the weather was stunningly clear.  We could see a haze layer below us, but we were above it.

The fuel burn that we figured on was going to use all but about 10 gallons in the tanks.  If we had an average groundspeed of less than 120 Knots we would have to make an additional fuel stop.  That is primarily because I refuse to land with less than 1 hour in the tanks, it’s a CAP thing that I think actually makes sense.  Our ground speed starting out was beautiful and worsened as we continued, but never so bad that I was worried about my 1 hour rule.  The only issue is that Gigi has 4 tanks, and having 3 gallons in each of 4 tanks, it just about useless.  I wanted to make sure that all 12 gallons were in one tank when we finished, so I could switch to that one and be done in an emergency.

So the plan was to burn 14 gallons (using the fuel totalizer on the EDM-830) out of the left main tank.  Then burn all of the fuel out of the auxiliary tanks (they burn together and return excess fuel to the left main tank).  Then burn 12 gallons out of the right main tank.  Then burn out all of the fuel from the left main.  When the left main was empty, the right main would be our emergency fuel; our 1 hour reserve.  The only issue with this procedure is that the rate of consumption of the aux tank can only be estimated.  The pump pulls more fuel than the engine needs and returns the excess into the left main tank.  We discussed it before hand and agreed that the best solution was to burn the aux tank dry.  That means the engine would stumble as an indication that we needed to switch tanks.

Somewhere over Maryland, we switched to the aux tank and started a 45 minute timer.  I’ve used 45 minutes as a rough estimate of how long to burn the aux tanks before, but never actually measured how long until they’re dry.  After passing the Chesapeake Bay, our 45 minute timer ran out.  I had been told that the first indication that air was entering the system would be told on the fuel flow indicator (actually a pressure gauge), when the needle flickers.  Jill was flying, and I had my hand poised ready to switch the tank, Liz was staring a hole in the fuel flow gauge.

When the time had expired by 5 minutes, we all expected the engine to quit soon.  10 minutes after it expired, we were all on edge.  Actually I’m pretty sure Liz never blinked from about 10 minutes on.  I was glancing at the fuel flow occasionally, but was more concerned with heading, altitude and traffic since we were still on an IFR flight plan.  When I looked back at the indicator, I realized it had slowly started creeping down.  It started at 9.5GPH, but when I looked, it was clearly indicating 9.0GPH.  That was enough for me.  I switched to the right main and Liz began breathing again.  The engine never stumbled and we later determined that we had about 1 gallon (.5 useable) in each aux tank.

ATC gave us a shortcut of direct Metter after Kinston VOR.  After the usual “UNABLE, we’re not GPS equipped” response, they gave us a heading to fly after Kinston, direct Allendale VOR when able.  That’s about 240 miles direct!

Switching from Washington Center to Jacksonville Center made us feel like we were really going somewhere, and we were just 3 hours into the day.  Before Allendale, we started our descent into the Haze and eventually we ended up at 2200’.  The Georgia countryside is really beautiful, but it was hot and humid there, even at just before 11AM.

I gave Jill the landing in Metter, since it is a nice long and wide runway and she can then use the cross country time she logged along the way.  It was an acceptable-ish landing.  I took back control and taxied to the pump where we all jumped out and ran for the bathroom!  It was just after 11AM when we landed and we still had just over 1.5 hours of fuel in the airplane.

Lunch in Metter wasn’t great, but not terrible either.  The personalities of the people are what make General Aviation so much fun.  You really feel like you’ve visited the place when you get to chat with people outside of the commuter/commercial airports.  Our waitress in Metter was no different.  At the local pharmacy, we bought three bottles of water for the price of what one would cost back in NYC!

We filed another IFR flight plan for the trip to Key West, but just in case, we filed it to X51, Homestead General Airport on the southern tip in Florida.  We weren’t sure if we’d get gas before heading into Key West or when we came back, but we knew that the cost of gas in Key West was going to make filling up there unwise.

We took off VFR and called Jacksonville center in the air.  The clearance was easy, SAV V3 DHP (Savannah, GA then V3 to Dolphin, FL).  A few short heading changes to avoid restricted areas and we were joining V3 for our run down the Florida coast.  Liz was up front now, and I passed the controls to her.  She had quite a bit of difficulty at first due to the haze.  Also, it’s not exactly easy for everyone to understand that you move a ton and a half of people and metal with just a single thumb and index finger on the controls.  Usually you think it takes the winner of a strong man competition to change the direction of 3000 pounds moving at 140 Knots.  Liz had white knuckles at first.  Once she had the feel of Gigi down, it was smooth sailing.

We flew by the massive vehicle assembly building where the space shuttles are assembled and marveled at the sprawling NASA complex there.  ATC changed our clearance after Melbourne to join V437.  We knew why, our NEXRAD uplink was painting the standard Florida afternoon thunderstorms along the coast.  So instead we got a beautiful view of Lake Okeechobe and the Florida glades.  A short deviation for those thunderstorms and we could see the city of Miami.

At this point he still had over two and a half hours of fuel left in the tanks and none of us wanted to stop.  We cancelled the IFR flight plan and asked for flight following along US 1.  From 2000 feet we could see the thunderstorms 100 miles away.  We could see the cruise ships making their way from Miami down to Key West and back.  And the color of the Gulf of Mexico was a beautiful blue and very different from the blue of the Atlantic.

Liz did a great job tracking route 1 while Jill and I gazed out the windows.  Since we were VFR, I wasn’t worried about altitude, and if heading deviated, we’d know it pretty quickly because we’d be over water.  Before long, we spotted the tethered balloon some 12,000 feet above us and just slightly north of our course line.  Miami Center switched us to Key West approach who told us to call Navy tower.  Tower told us to stay north of US 1 (we had been south because of the balloon) so we moved over.  Abeam the tower, they passed us onto Key West International tower and I took the controls back from Liz.

As instructed, I joined the downwind for runway 9.  Touchdown at about 5:10PM was sweet and I let her roll out to an intersection with made it easy for us to taxi in.  We were third in line following a few other planes which had just landed and were given the shutdown sign by the line guy.  He welcomed us to Key West and asked us if we needed anything.  We told him we’d be a few hours and would need just 10 gallons of fuel (a courtesy purchase and a little extra safety margin for our flight back to the mainland).

After a short celebration and a few pics, we stopped by the FBO for some Air Conditioning.  It was hot and humid that day and the ramp made it feel even hotter.  We had decided that it was unlikely that we’d spend the night in Key West due to cost and availability of hotel rooms.  Liz and I talked and we figured we’d try to make a small deviation in order to get Jill to First Flight, one of the meccas of Aviation.  The FBO was going to close at 9PM, but we figured that would be enough time to get some food and see some of the sights.  A cab took us to “the buoy,” which is a mandatory stop for all tourists, and then onto Duval street to find some dinner.  What we found were a serious number of drunken people celebrating that the world hadn’t ended!  We found a nice restaurant with a deck which faced the west and enjoyed a lovely dinner while a thunderstorm passed overhead and the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico.

After purchasing a sufficient amount of “tchotchkes” (inside joke) including a conch shell and t-shirts, and after a failed attempt to buy a key lime pie which would make the trip home with us, we hailed the next available cab back to the Airport.  It was 8:45Pm.  If we arrived back after 9PM, we would be charged a $50 late service fee (which we had agreed wouldn’t be such a bad thing anyhow).

I preflighted and called flight service for our short trip back to Homestead, FL (X51).  We fired up the engine and Jill executed a fabulous takeoff (so that she could also log EYW) and followed route 1 back north.  When the GPS said we were close enough to dry land to make the direct flight, I told Jill to turn north; direct to X51.  The funny thing about that part of Florida is that it’s totally unpopulated and so there’s nothing on the ground.  The moon was obscured by some clouds, and Miami was very bright in the distance, so it felt like we were over water but the GPS clearly showed us over land.

We made an easy landing on Runway 9 at X51 and taxied off to one of the two self-serve pumps for a top off.  The FBOs there were closed, but a very nice gentlemen in airport OPS allowed us to use the restroom there.  I filed an IFR flight plan to Wilmington, NC which I had called to confirm that they were open 24 hours and had a crew rest room available.  The plan was to get a few hours of sleep in Wilmington and then continue up the NC coastline into First Flight, but we didn’t tell Jill that part!

Night flying is some of my favorite GA flying.  There’s very little traffic, and what little there is can be seen from 20+ miles away.  The air has calmed so thunderstorms and turbulence aren’t usually a consideration.  The frequency is quiet and there’s a sort of peace to the earth that makes the time fly by.

We departed Homestead VFR just after 11PM and picked up our IFR in the air with Miami approach.  The route was a little complex (DHP V267 CRG V37 SAV V437 CHS V1 CRE V70 BILLL) but a few shortcuts after Craig made it easy.

We knew about a big TFR near Jacksonville due to a huge forest fire, and when we got closer to Jacksonville, we could smell it too.  The prevailing winds were out of the west and that put us in the smell for some 50 miles.  We advised Jacksonville approach, just in case what we were smelling wasn’t from the ground.  The state of Florida took just about three and a half flying hours to travel across.  That’s a BIG state! 

Once we were across the border into Georgia, a few clouds blocked our view of the ground and we were confined in our little world nearly a mile above the ground.  Jill had checked out (sleeping) somewhere around Daytona Beach.  Liz was playing Solitaire on her iPad and listening to music.  I didn’t even bother her when it came time to run the aux tank dry.  I just ran it for 55 minutes and then switched.

Jacksonville center was very quiet and we heard the same controller giving instructions to us and to aircraft up in the high flight levels.  That means he was working a huge chunk of airspace both vertically and horizontally!  Still he didn’t seem that busy (though one can never tell what they’re doing when the mic’s not clicked).  A direct vector to the CRE VOR saved us about 90 seconds of travel time, but I wasn’t one to shy away from a good direct vector.

Just for fun, I decided to shoot the ILS into ILM because how often can you fly 10 hours and then test yourself with a good approach.  It was easy and we touched down smoothly on the runway at ILM.  Total flight time on that leg was just shy of 5 hours with about 1.5 hours left in the tanks.

I had a hard time figuring out where “Air Wilmington,” the FBO, was located, and got myself turned around twice on the taxiway.  Tower was closed and no one answered on any frequencies.  After finding them, it took quite a concerted effort to concentrate on the line man’s instructions.  We shut down at about 4:10AM.

The crew rest area was very nice, two couches and two chairs that fully recline.  By the time I got into the rest area, Liz and Jill had already staked claim to the couches, so I got comfy in the chair.  Alarm set for 7:30AM, and I don’t remember even falling asleep.  The buzzer sounded what felt like a second later, but was actually about three hours.  The sun had risen, as had we and food was the first necessary consideration.  Air Wilmington was kind enough to provide us a crew car for an hour, to go get some breakfast at the local IHOP.  There’s nothing like a “Rooty Tooty” to get you going in the morning!

Before long, we were back at the airport, and commercial flights were taking off.  Being a nice Sunday morning, someone was in the pattern doing touch and goes.  Our tanks were full and Gigi had cooled off and rested, just like her crew.  It was time to bid farewell to ILM, which we did at about 10AM.  The route we had planned took us along the coast up to ONX, but we planned a stop just before that at FFA.  The flight was to take about an hour and along the way we saw some awesome sights.  The outer banks of NC are really quite spectacular from 2000’.  Liz did a great job following them up to Cape Hatteras before turning northward.  About 15 miles north of Hatteras, I spotted some odd eddies in the water off the shore.  We made a few turns and discovered a school of whales just hanging out off the coast.

 

Jill was in the back and paying attention to her iPad when we saw another huge fire on the mainland with smoke travelling out over the Atlantic.  Visibility dropped to about 5 miles, and the smell of burning wood returned to the cockpit.  All the while, I tuned the FFA ASOS and got the pertinent information without Jill hearing the name of the airport.  Before long, we saw the monument in the distance and started heading for it.  When we were over it, I asked Jill if she knew the name of the city to which all Muslims are expected to make a pilgrimage.  She couldn’t come up with it fast enough so the joke was a bit ruined.  I pointed out the monument while circling it and before long she realized where she was.

I brought Gigi around and into the downwind for 20 and touched down just after a Robinson R44 which had landed and taxied in.  Gigi and Jill had completed their pilgrimage and we took pictures to commemorate the event.  Jill registered our landing in the pilot’s log at the AOPA facility there and we set out to climb the hill.  The view from the monument wasn’t as great as it usually is due to the smoke from the fires, but still awesome none-the-less.  We didn’t have time to make the trip to the buildings and gift shop, but we’ll be back.

The hop over to ONX for gas was a short one.  Just about 20 minutes and we were landing behind a Cessna that was based there and avoided the hang gliders which were being towed by what looked like a powered ultralight.  While fuelling, we watched the powered ultralight tow up another hang glider into a thermal and, after release, enter a nicely executed spin which he broke out of at a few hundred feet and landed on the grass next to the runway.  I filed IFR for our flight back to 3N6 while Liz and Jill watched the hang gliders.

Again we departed VFR and picked up the IFR enroute from Norfolk Approach; a simple clearance to Join V1 at Norfolk and go north.  The forecast for the New York area was not great but not too terrible either.  3N6 was expected to be VFR, but just barely due to cloud ceilings.  Crossing over the Chesapeake again, I noticed some build-ups ahead and I commented that they’d be bumpy.  NEXRAD wasn’t painting anything.  As we got closer, they looked pretty ominous and when the Baron ahead of us asked for a deviation, so did I.  As we slid by that build-up, we watched the NEXRAD go from one tiny blue pixel to a little cluster with some orange, to a big cluster with purple in the middle.  That was in the span of 10 minutes and with nothing else around us!

As we approached Robbinsville, NJ from the south, we got our first and only squawk of the whole trip.  The #6 EGT probe went bad.  Annoying since it had done that before and I had replaced the probe.  The JPI detected it and marked it as bad, so it wasn’t much of a distraction.

We got a descent down to 3000’ and entered the clouds.  Just south of RBV, the controller asked us what approach we’d like and I requested the VOR-24.  He then cleared me for the GPS-24 (Different approach) which I had to decline.  Since it sounded like a trainee, I was doing my best not to rattle him, but I was getting close to RBV and needed to know what I was doing.  He spit out “clear for the approach.”  To which I replied “Confirm N5341E is cleared VOR-24 into Old Bridge.”  To which he replied “Affirmative.”  Good enough I guess, but I do think his trainer should’ve jumped in.  Even before we got to RBV he switched us to Unicom.  That’s strange because you fly out of the VOR for 10 miles, then turn around and fly back for 5 miles.  That’s about 12 minutes that we’d be out of contact with approach.  So I flew the outbound track and the procedure turn and came back inbound.  Almost as soon as we passed STENY (the final approach fix) inbound and had descended a few hundred feet, we were out of the clouds.

I continued the descent to 1000 and canceled IFR with McGuire.  The runway was spread out before me and Gigi’s tires chirped their announcement back home.  All told, it was about 2500 miles flying, 19.3 hours on the Hobbs meter and a ton of great memories.

Two down, two to go!