Cleveland Day Trip

My student and I logged 7.7 hours in the Arrow today on a trip to Burke Lakefront Airport (BKL) in Cleveland, Ohio. This airport is Cleveland's answer to Chicago's Meigs Field (now closed). It is situated along the shore of Lake Erie, right next to downtown. Until recently, the airport hosted the Grand Prix of Cleveland, which I used to pretend to race in my Indy car simulator game on the computer. The Cleveland Browns stadium is close by, and so are museums, an IMAX theater, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and boat tours.

While an overwater route would have been shorter, we took the Chicago lakefront route instead in both directions. On the way out, we stopped for fuel at Toledo Metcalf Airport, a place I had been before.

The weather today was very warm and hazy... 90 degrees on the ground in Cleveland. It got hazy enough that I felt better filing an IFR flight plan for the way back. Turned out to be a good idea since we could hardly see into the haze facing the sun. I cancelled it near Chicago. It was night by the time we flew past the Chicago skyline, so we were treated to seeing it in both day and nighttime today.

Busy Iola Friday Lunch

I convinced our mechanic Jim to fly into Iola with me today for the weekly Friday lunch. We took a 172 and he flew the whole way there and back, including the takeoffs and landings. Central County Airport was unusually packed because the weather was so good. We practically had to park in the next county. But the folks in charge over there planned ahead well, and they had enough food for all of us even though the line seemed to go out the hangar to oblivion. It was a fun time as always.

Sky Arrow to... New Jersey, Day 5

This morning I almost went crazy. But finally, finally, finally I was able to make the last leg of my journey to deliver Sean's Sky Arrow back to him.

At 8 a.m. when I was eating my free cereal, the clouds were still overcast at 600 feet above the airport -- about level with the mountains to the east. At 9 a.m. or so when the friendly FBO employee gave me a ride to the airport, the lower layer of clouds had broken up and now there was an overcast layer at 1,400 feet. The forecast said that the clouds would lift dramatically by noon.

I preflighted the airplane while the weather was still no-go so that I'd be ready at a moment's notice. I kept calling the number for the airport's automated weather in order to get updates on the height of the clouds. Slowly, they were rising and starting to break up.

The instant I heard "two thousand, two hundred" I was like a horse out of the starting gate. I said goodbye to the people in the FBO. I called Sean, who confirmed that he wanted me to take the plane to Woodbine, New Jersey (1N4) instead of the west side of Philadelphia. (Whatever, just get me outta here.) I climbed into the Sky Arrow and was cleared to taxi to runway 33.

Since it was almost dark when I landed here three nights ago, today was the first time I got a good view of the landscape surrounding the airport. I snapped a picture after takeoff. Standing on the airport surface, you can't quite see beyond the plateau you're on. Fifty feet off the ground is a different story. If it weren't for the glare in my picture, you could really get a sense of the way the terrain drops off to reveal the valleys below.

Johnstown's control tower asked me if I'd like flight following all the way to my destination, and what my intended cruising altitude was. I told them yes and that I'd stay at 3,500 for now, knowing that in a few miles I'd have to go higher than that unless I wanted to hit something. And as I climbed and got a better view ahead, I realized squeezing myself between the clouds and the mountains might not be a good idea. Almost 100 miles of wrinkled earth stretched between me and Harrisburg, PA before things would level out. Even if I could stay below the clouds, it would probably be a rough ride.

I had studied the forecasts and satellite imagery before embarking on this trip, and everything suggested that the clouds would never completely fill in, leaving lots of holes. When faced with a decision whether to try and "scud run" over mountains or go way up high over the clouds, I shoved the throttle forward and aimed for the blue sky you see in my takeoff picture. This took me a little off course to start, but it was my only tunnel to get above those clouds. I thought 5,500 feet would do it-- ah, no. The cloud tops are always higher than they look. I kept climbing. Finally at 7,500 feet I had the required cloud clearance and could see forever. It was cold up there, probably about 45 degrees although I didn't have a thermometer. It was also almost blindingly bright and the sun kept me warm without the heater. I turned on course and checked in with a controller from Cleveland Center. *The Dynon EFIS and Garmin GPS screens don't show up in this picture because of the lighting, but they're there.

I was very thankful I was up here and not down in the haze and the bumps. I could always see the ground through holes among the clouds, so I always had kind of an idea of what was down there and where I was. The further east I went, the more the cumulus clouds went in rows paralleling the mountains. Every now and then I'd get a stunning view of the mountains below. I have been above the clouds many times but never in a plane with this kind of unobstructed visibility. It was awesome.

Near Harrisburg, which lies south of the last major ridgeline, I started having to weave among the cumulus buildups as their tops became higher. I knew I couldn't weave much longer without running through a wall of clouds ahead, so I requested an altitude of 8,500 feet. Yes, the "wrong" altitude for the direction I was heading, which is why I asked if I could temporarily have it. It took every ounce of power and patience for the little plane to struggle up to 8,500 feet. This solved my immediate problem, but I saw I still wouldn't be able to get over that last row of clouds because it would take a long time to climb to 9,500 feet. There was only one sure-fire way out: descend below the clouds, into the warmth, the haze, and the turbulence.

Down I went, aiming for the city, steering along a clear path between me and that big row of clouds. I wove around some lower ones, and by the time I was about 5,500 feet and about to run into clouds, I was above the city. The only thing I could do was spiral down through a huge opening in the clouds, and I let air traffic control know what was going on. I think they misunderstood at first, because I think they took my statement to mean that I was trapped above the clouds. No... not at all, I told them, and clarified that I was just fine and needed no help. I simply needed to make a U-turn, shed altitude, and get back on course. The bottoms of the clouds were at 4,300 feet and I descended to 3,500 feet, where I could see the Susquehanna River and lots of civilization.

Gone was my clear blue sky and now I was in some warmer, hazier air. It was so turbulent that I could hardly hold altitude, and the plane banked 30 degrees left and right. I still had at least an hour of flight to go and did not want to endure this kind of turbulence that long. I started considering taking a break at one of the nearby airports but knew I had an airline flight to catch soon. And then unexpectedly, a few miles southeast of the city, I was in luck: the clouds suddenly broke up again and the tops looked much lower. Whoo hoo! I shot right back up there, first to 5,500 feet and then to 7,500 feet. Now it was smooth sailing to my destination.

My toes were a little cold but otherwise I was fine up here in the smooth air again, trying to hide from the sun under my jacket and hat. Most of the scenery consisted of clouds, but I often got small glimpses of the landscape. The Delaware River appeared through a large gap in the clouds. A Philadelphia approach controller asked me if I would like to descend, but I said no, I'd rather stay up here at 7,500 as long as possible. My idea was to stay in this smooth air until very near the airport, and then to take advantage of the hopefully smooth air over the Delaware Bay.

I deviated from course just a hair in order to put myself over the bay. This was west of Cape May, a peninsula on the other side of which lies the Atlantic Ocean. The airport I was heading to is not far southwest of Atlantic City, New Jersey, and it was the Atlantic City controllers who worked with me on the way into Woodbine. The picture to the right shows the Delaware Bay ahead of me in the haze, and the edges of the cumulus clouds along the shore. I flew beyond the shoreline and turned along it, finally beginning a descent in what was thankfully smooth air.

Once below the bases of the clouds, I turned inland over the marshes and forests. I made a radio call to announce my position. Someone in the FBO responded back that Sean was there waiting for me. That was pretty exciting... I knew I was minutes away from completing a nearly 800-nautical-mile journey and a friend was there waiting for me. I touched down on Woodbine's runway after 2.4 hours in the air today. Sean and I put the plane away and headed for Philadelphia International where I took the airlines to Milwaukee. Had it not been for all the weather delays, I would have had more time for sightseeing.

I logged a total of 9.6 hours on this trip and chalked this up as the third time I have flown a Sky Arrow on a long cross-country. I have learned the plane's limitations as well as my own, and have seen how important it is to plan a lot of extra time into your trip in these limited airplanes. Had this been an IFR-equipped Cessna 172, I could have made the trip in a day or two. But had it been a Cessna 172, it would have been too easy. And as far as the view, I had the best seat in the house.

Sky Arrow to Philly Day 4: Groundhog Day

One look out my hotel room window this morning and I knew that Johnstown, PA was about to become my second home. Above is a picture from the back of the hotel this morning with the clouds so low you could just about touch them. A ridge of mountains clearly stands out beyond the trees, but guess what: if you squint, you can just barely pick out the much taller ridge further out in the distance, behind all that mist. Not safe to fly this morning.

I can't help but think of the movie Groundhog Day, where the main character is stuck in a day that repeats itself.

Another shuttle to the airport, another day of waiting, and I'm going stir-crazy. I can only take so much of the Olympics on TV and even the computer isn't entertaining anymore. I went to the airline terminal restaurant for a burger for lunch and a waitress said, "Oh, you're still here."

Yes, yes I am. Ugh. Sean told me it's clear and beautiful where he is. If I could only get out of these mountains... And later in the day, there were showers showing up on the radar west of here.

Hmm, $60 to rent a car for the afternoon. Had I felt like spending that, I would have driven around just for something to do. It was very tempting. But I was already volunteering my time on this trip and didn't want to volunteer any more money.

After lunch, I couldn't stand to sit anymore so I went for a walk along the road that borders the airport. It went downhill quite a bit and came to an intersection, where I turned left and continued for a while. I took a picture of a sign for the steepest grade I've ever heard of. Too bad I didn't feel like walking an extra four miles round-trip to find out what 14% looks like. I turned around and made the uphill trek back towards the airport.

And here is a picture of the view before I got poured on and drenched head to toe. Five more minutes would have saved me. Luckily I still had clean clothes to change into, and I sat in the FBO to dry off. More of the Olympics.

Hours later, there were still mountain obscuration AIRMETs and the clouds hadn't lifted much. Another round of showers moved into the Johnstown area from the west. I gave up and headed to the Super 8 this time, which was very near the airport. I had a good view of some mountains from my window as it poured rain again and the sunset turned the sky pink.

My airline ticket out of Philadelphia is for tomorrow, so the weather had better start cooperating. Recently I've been wishing for more spare time, but this kind of spare time isn't what it's cracked up to be. The good news is, the weather forecast for tomorrow looks promising.

Sky Arrow to Philly, Day 3: Nowhere Fast

I took the hotel's shuttle back to the airport this morning in order to sit and wait for an opportunity to make progress on this trip. Mother Nature sure picked an inconvenient day to pound the Philadelphia and New Jersey areas with severe storms. All day, there were storms between me and my destination. I passed the time with TV and my computer. I sampled the Sunday lunch buffet at the dead-quiet restaurant in the airline terminal next door. A King Air full of people diverted to Johnstown because they couldn't get to Philly either. I chatted with them quite a while and they even donated me one of their catered sandwiches from Panera Bread for dinner.

Later in the day it became obvious the day was shot-- it was still storming, and I would have to stay here in a hotel again. Another night, a different hotel, and I hope the weather clears.

I've included pictures of the radar, AIRMETs/SIGMETs, and the visible satellite from this afternoon. Notice the eastern part of Pennsylvania being covered in a convective SIGMET while the place I'm stuck is covered in a mountain obscuration AIRMET. All of this mess is wrapped around a strong low pressure system centered north of Lake Erie that's about to send another wave of bad weather my way.

Sky Arrow to Philly, Day 2

I should have paid attention to the online reviews about the hotel I stayed at last night... yes, the beds are rock hard and I didn't get a very good sleep last night because of it. Oh well. I felt better after a big glass of free orange juice. Strangely I had no appetite for food. Nervous I guess.

Before going to bed last night I read a few tidbits about Goshen, Indiana on Wikipedia. It is the home of the second largest county fair in the U.S.  Also, "The South side Wal-Mart is rumored to be the first Wal-Mart in the United States to provide a covered stable for its frequent Amish customers." Huh. I paid more attention to the Wal-Mart on my drive back to the airport, and sure enough, there was a big stable there.

I was off the ground and headed east somewhere around 8:00 a.m. -- which was Eastern time and more like 7:00 a.m. to me. (Yikes.) The air was wonderfully smooth and cool. I flew almost directly east into the sun over endless green farmland. I tipped my hat forward and flipped up the collar of my polo shirt to keep the sun off of me as much as possible. I was already wearing my jacket, and my arms were actually cooler under my sleeves than my hands that were in the sun. Overall it was pretty comfortable because cool air came in through the vents. Not far east of Goshen, I shot a picture of what was either fog or smoke stretching for a few miles, unable to rise because of a temperature inversion. Later I saw a farmer stirring up dust in a field.

Two hours later, I wound up at my planned fuel stop of Medina, Ohio (1G5), not far south of Cleveland. I could see Lake Erie off in the distance. You can't tell by the chart, but here's where things start getting a little more hilly, and wow did runway 27 go downhill-- actually, the whole airport was on a slope. I taxied uphill to get to the self-serve fuel pump. Coincidentally, a pilot I had met at Wayne's house during AirVenture just happened to be there with his Sonex. Small world. This was a nice little airport with friendly people in the FBO and some kind of post-wedding celebration on the lawn.

My next planned stop was Indiana, Pennsylvania (IDI). (Yes, the city is called Indiana.) But when I took off from Medina, it was already noticeably bumpier than when I arrived and getting warm out. I found smoother air a couple thousand feet up. I kept climbing and tuned in Akron approach just for something to listen to, not planning on getting flight following. Well it never fails; it seems whenever I do that, I always hear someone talking about me as a traffic conflict. The same thing happened last night. So when the controller mentioned an unknown type of aircraft climbing through a particular altitude (4,700-ish), I knew that was me and called to say so. I decided getting flight following was a good idea.

There was a big glob of taller clouds ahead of me that I knew I wouldn't be able to pick my way through, so after a short time at 5,500 feet, I descended back down below the clouds. It was very rough there. The noon sun was beating down on me making me warm, and I was getting a little tired and dizzy-feeling from not having enough sleep plus all of the above. This was not good... time for a break. Akron approach didn't give me a direct handoff to another controller, so I didn't even have to tell anyone when I decided to divert.

I pushed the "nearest" button on the GPS. (How did people function before GPS, anyhow?) I compared the list to what I saw on the chart and turned towards the New Castle airport (UCP). I should mention that I have been using Sean's Garmin GPSMAP 496 handheld GPS which is mounted in an Air Gizmo panel dock, and if I didn't like Sean I would steal it. :-) It's awesome. Drool. Gimme. Pretty much a pilot's dream. It does everything I'm used to with the older 295, with better resolution, all the data for airports of course, airport & taxiway diagrams, AOPA Airport Directory information, temporary flight restrictions, and best of all: weather. It has the XM Satellite Weather subscription which can put radar and everything else on your screen, plus give you live text weather for any airport that has it.

So in the case of a diversion like this one, I could thankfully find out everything I needed to know about the airport just by pushing buttons. Almost, anyway. I hadn't checked NOTAMs for this one so I made a quick radio call to Flight Service to ask if there were any.

The New Castle Airport was up on a plateau above a river valley with lots of big hills around. It was the first serious indication of "OK, now I'm far from home." This airport was sloped even worse than Medina. The views were pretty. A guy came out to talk to me while I tied the airplane down, and he made me realize I was actually in Pennsylvania. New Castle is east of Youngstown, which is in Ohio, but I hadn't noticed the state border on my chart (too much stuff printed across it) or on the GPS. Well hey, at least I had made it through another state!

The people in the FBO were very nice and let me use the courtesy car to go get lunch. I took a nap in the afternoon and passed more time watching TV. Thunderstorms were brewing so I wasn't going anywhere for a while. The storms were pretty scattered, but the whole sky was full of nasty-looking towering cumulus clouds. A couple downpours passed by the airport but didn't hit us. Around the FBO's closing time, 5:00 eastern, things started looking a little better. I packed up and took off towards my originally intended destination of Indiana, PA.

This didn't last long. Maybe 15 minutes later I was already hitting the "NRST" on the GPS again. It was so turbulent that my hand started going numb from constantly correcting on the stick. These weren't quite mountains but I could feel the wind going over every hill. It was physically demanding and of course very uncomfortable to fly like this. Ahead I could see some downpours as well as clouds that looked like they'd spill any minute, which only added to my trouble. I diverted to Butler County Airport (BTP), only 25 miles from New Castle.

Luckily for me, the FBO was open till 9 p.m. and had a nice pilot's lounge upstairs where I could sit in a big comfy recliner and watch big screen TV, as well as access the internet through either their computer or my laptop. I spent most of my waiting time checking airports ahead to see what kinds of facilities they had. Would there be anyone there? Were there any hotels nearby? I'm glad for AirNav.com, Google Maps, and the members-only AOPA directory, three more things I don't know how I'd go without. I was racing the clock now and knew I'd never get to Philadelphia before dark. While the plane is equipped for night flight, the glare of the screens in the cockpit reflects on the canopy and this is not something I'd want to fly cross-country at night to unfamiliar places. It looked like I could make it to Johnstown, PA (JST) yet tonight. It was about 45 minutes' worth of flight time away.

Somewhere around 7:30 I took off for Johnstown. The air had finally settled down enough that flying wasn't a chore. There were only a couple showers left over. The GPS showed I'd be well clear of those. I crossed the Allegheny River, which cut a deep valley through the tree-covered hills. As the sun set, I wished I hadn't forgotten to get my camera out of the bag in the back seat.

I knew I'd be crossing an almost-3,000-foot elevation ridgeline of the Alleghenies in order to get into Johnstown, and I saw a ridge off in the hazy distance. (Did I mention the GPS also has terrain data? It showed the ridges ahead of me.) I climbed up to 4,500 feet. (Yeah, the "wrong" altitude for this direction, but I was within 3,000 of the ground.) As I crossed that ridge and did not see a city on the other side, and after looking at where I was on the GPS and my map, I looked ahead and realized -- "Oh, THAT is the ridge," which was much more ominous-looking than the one I just crossed. It was hiding in the haze until now.

Umm, OK, large solid green mass sticking up from the ground, there's a little bit of wind, there are towers sticking up off of this thing... I decided to climb up to 5,500 feet even though the airport would be only about 10 miles past this next ridge. This would give me a 2,500-foot buffer. Up here I could finally see the city of Johnstown hiding on the other side, and I could see the airport's beacon. I called the tower ten miles out. The controller had me plan on runway 33. I dropped down to pattern altitude of 3,300 feet -- kind of doing a double-take, "Is that right?" -- and set up for a downwind for 33. This airport is like landing on a giant aircraft carrier. 15/33 has cliffs at both ends. It was weird how coming down final approach almost made me afraid of heights. From just a few feet above the airport, you can see the city all around, down in the valleys. It was almost dark when I landed.

The line guys at the FBO helped arrange a hotel for me and its shuttle came to pick me up. It was around 9 p.m. by the time I left the airport, making this a more than 12-hour day including the stops and breaks, and I was totally exhausted. I flew 4.4 hours. The best part was the scenery. Tomorrow's forecast includes thunderstorms, so I will have to play it by ear.

Sky Arrow to Philly, Day 1

I flew almost three hours straight this evening on the first leg of my journey to Philadelphia in the Sky Arrow. I'm making the 700-nm trip solo to deliver Sean's plane back to him from Oshkosh.

I flew over the Wisconsin farmland, past the Six Flags Great America theme park, and along the Chicago lakefront. Above one of the industrial areas in Gary, rising heat from smokestacks and factories sent my little airplane climbing like I was on an elevator. Past there, I flew past sand dunes on the lakeshore and over green farmland to Goshen, Indiana where I spent the night.

Chicago Trip

I flew to Chicago Executive Airport with a student yesterday for an overnight trip. I had never been to that airport before, which lies within a cutout of the Chicago Class B airspace and is quite busy with corporate aircraft.

(Left: view from my hotel room.)

Had Meigs Field still existed, we could have landed there and practically walked to our hotel. Instead, we had to take long and expensive cab rides each way. I really wish the mayor hadn't decided to destroy Meigs in 2003. It has always bothered me that I never got to go there before the closure. Now it is even more frustrating that we couldn't go there because it would have been so convenient for us.

Saturday Flying

I'm all Oshkoshed-out and don't feel like spending any more time at the show.  This morning I gave a ride in the Ercoupe and then sat around to watch the Lambada motorglider and Flight Design CTs fly. Last night a pilot in a Swift had to keep his plane here overnight because the Oshkosh airport closed at 8:00... and he was a little too late. I watched the Swift depart today.

Later in the evening I finally flew with Todd in his Ercoupe, for the first time since he bought the airplane (this was only his second flight in the plane).

Then I flew an introductory flight in the Sky Arrow with a potential Able Flight scholarship applicant. He had never flown in a small airplane so this was quite an experience for him.

I rounded out the long day with a night flight to Clintonville for landings with my student Tony.

The Airshow from a Different Perspective

With nothing better to do, I figured I might as well spend another day at the airshow. The first thing I did was participate in the "WomenVenture" photo.

I caught the end of an FAA safety seminar about thunderstorms & gust fronts, then stayed for the entire AOPA seminar "The Top Five Mistakes Pilots Make."

In the afternoon I drove over to Wayne's house on the southeast corner of the field and discovered another reason it's called "7th Heaven." The airshow performers, who have to stay away from the crowd, fly right over Wayne's house. This includes the F22! It was so loud that I could only manage to get one picture and a short video clip while trying to cover my ears with my arms at the same time. Wayne said, "I wonder if I'll have any windows left!" I was so entertained that I stayed to watch the entire airshow from this awesome vantage point.