Iditarod - The Last Great Race

This posting is not another one of my flying adventures with "Victor".  But it's a story I wanted to share.

I've been a fan of The Iditarod Dog Sled Race for a long time.  There is something about the cold weather competition for men and women, and their dogs, that appeals to me.  I had always thought that someday I would like to attend at least the start of the race.  My ideal would be to be at the start in Anchorage, Alaska, follow the race as it progressed westward through 1,000 miles of extreme weather conditions along the race route (as cold as -40F) and see the winner cross the finish line more than a week later in Nome on the Bering Sea. 

As an accountant, March is the busiest month of the year for me.  The Iditarod Dog Sled Race begins on the first weekend in March and the winner usually crosses the finish line in Nome about 9 days or so later.  Some of the mushers take up to two weeks to cross the finish line.  I thought I would never be able to get away in March to see the Iditarod up close and personal, at least until I retired. When grandson Scott was born on March 13, 1995, the day after my 50th birthday, I had said that I wanted to take him to see the Iditarod when he was old enough to enjoy it.  But then I kept working and retirement kept looking farther and farther into the future.

Then earlier this year, Leslie suggested to me that this would be a good time to finally take 15 year old grandson Scott to see the Iditarod. My automatic response was that I couldn't take that much time off in the middle of tax season.  When she asked me, "Why not?" I found I didn't have a good answer for her.  I wouldn't retire until I was no longer able to work, and then I probably wouldn't be physically able to enjoy and adventure of this sort.  At the same time, I was starting to think about how I wanted to spend whatever time I had left in this world.  Leslie was right:  This was the perfect opportunity for a grandfather to go on a trip like this with his grandson.  And if I was ever going to attend the Iditarod, I should do it sooner rather than later.

All I really had to do was to move a few appointments around, to clear off a few days from the office.  I could always make up for the lost time when we returned.  That's it!  We're going to the Iditarod!  I immediately went online to book our plane fare and order us both a good pair of winter gloves.  I already had boots and a good parka, so Leslie went online to order boots and a parka for Scott.

None of my clients seemed concerned when I rescheduled their appointment.  In fact, they were happy and excited for me, that I was not only able to go on such an adventure with my grandson, but that I was actually going to do it.  And Ellen didn't balk at taking Scott out of school for the trip.  She thought it would be great and contacted all of his teachers to arrange for getting his homework assignments early.  As it turned out, he could only get his assignments the day before we left, so he would have to do homework while on vacation.  Scott is well disciplined about doing his homework so he didn't mind spending a little time in the evening or during spare moments to take care of it.  I wish it had been that easy with my kids when they were that age!

The day before we left, Leslie picked up Scott on her way back from a visit with her friend Melissa.  We both got everything packed the night before, so we'd be ready early in the morning to catch our flight.  Fortunately for Scott, I don't like 6am flights.  They're just not worth it.  I booked a noon flight so we would have plenty of time to get there, miss all of the commuter traffic jams, and still arrive in Anchorage at a decent hour in the evening.

We made our flight in plenty of time, changed planes in Seattle, and arrived in Anchorage about dinner time.  There was snow on the sidewalks and piled up along the sides of the streets.  Brrrrr.  It was somewhere around 25F.  We got our rental car (4WD Ford Explorer) and took off for Girdwood, a little town in the mountains about an hour's drive to the East on the Seward Highway along Turnagain Arm Inlet.

I had originally planned on getting a room for Scott and me in the Millenium Anchorage Hotel near the Anchorage airport.  The Millenium Hotel is the staging area for the Iditarod.  An Iditarod Help Desk is set up in the lobby.  Iditarod souvenirs are sold from another corner of the lobby.  Makeshift offices are setup in several ground level rooms, to handle the various Iditarod events, hand out event tickets, etc.  It would be shoulder-to-shoulder people the entire time, but it would be fun and definitely centrally located to all the events.

But friend, client and Rotary President Georgeann Cowles insisted that we use her cabin in Girdwood for our trip.  The offer of having our own cabin and saving whatever 5 days would cost at the Millenium Anchorage Hotel was an offer too hard to resist.  And it worked out very well indeed.  It was perfect for two guys on their own.  We had a full kitchen, full bath with shower, separate bedrooms and lots of movie videos to play on the TV.  The cabin was in an area with lots other cabins nearby, a few small stores and a restaurant not too far away.  A gas station and other small retail stores were about 5 miles away down at the Seward Highway.  There was a lot more snow in Girdwood compared to Anchorage, and only the main roads were clear of snow.  Snow was piled up high alongside all of the roads.

The next evening we attended the Mushers Number Drawing Banquet in downtown Anchorage.  This is where the mushers all draw their starting number for the race: and introductions are made of volunteers, special sponsors, politicians and other dignitaries.  They also held some open auctions of special fundraising gifts.  Georgeann and her friend Grant Wrathall were also in town for the Iditarod and they sat at the same table with us at the banquet.  Before dinner, she grabbed Scott and said, "Let's go find (4 time Iditarod Champion) Jeff King."  All of the mushers roamed the dining room, letting fans take their photos and autographing programs, etc.  Georgeann introduced Scott to Jeff King, took their photos together and brought Scott back to the table with a big smile.  She said, "I got a couple of good shots that I'll blow up for you and Scott."

We all had a great time at the banquet and left about 9pm.  It was 26F.  I went to bed about 10pm; but Scott made himself a snack and then watched videos until sometime after midnight.  I slept in until 7am on Friday, but I let Scott sleep in for a while longer.  This was our only unscheduled day, and I wanted to do some exploring and visit the Iditarod Museum in Wasilla, about an hour north of Anchorage.

It had been snowing during the night and it seemed to me that it was still steadily snowing at a pretty good rate, although I really wasn't sure.  We got in the car and tried to leave about 11:00, but couldn't budge the car out of the snow.  As I was rocking the car back and forth, trying to get out onto the road, the neighbor from across the street came over to me and said, "You don't want to go to town today.  There are white-out conditions on the Seward Highway with 80mph winds.  This is the worst storm I've seen in 20 years.  You might be able to leave tomorrow, but not today."  Thank God he bothered to come over and warn me.  If I had managed to get out, we would have surely been stranded somewhere, if not worse.

We went back into the cabin to wait out the storm and soon determined we had little real food, but lots of videos.  Georgeann was really upset with herself and felt guilty when she found out we were snowed in.  She was afraid we would miss the Iditarod Start the next morning.  Actually, Scott and I thought it was kinda fun, since neither one of us had ever been snowed in before.  Life is full of twists and turns or, said another way, life is what happens when you're making other plans.  We were having a great experience, and it wouldn't be the end of the world if we missed the event we came to see because of a snow storm.  It was all new to Scott and me.

Fortunately, the storm stopped by mid-afternoon, and within an hour there were several snow plows out on the roads; and the roads were clear within another hour.  So Scott and I were able to go out for a pizza for dinner.  I also decided to stock up on some prepared meals just in case we or anyone else were stranded here again.  Just after we walked in the door with our pizza, Scott informed me that he had lost one of his gloves.  We soon decided it must have fallen out of the car when we stopped at the pizza restaurant, down the hill about 5 miles.  I wanted to call first before driving all the way down the hill, but we couldn't find a phone book to get the phone number.  Then I realized I could Google for it on my iPhone.  Sure enough, I got the number and called the pizza place.  The lady found it in the parking lot right where I thought she would.  Whew!  So I drove down the hill and retrieved his glove.  My iPhone saved the day.

We rose early the next morning so we could get to 4th and D Streets in downtown Anchorage by 9am for the ceremonial start of the Iditarod.  We got to town in plenty of time and parked about 4 or 5 blocks away.  Again, the temperature was in the mid-20's.  The (ITC) Iditarod Trail Committee, Inc. is a non-profit entity that puts on the annual Iditarod Race.  They bring in snow for the ceremonial start each year, just to make sure there's enough (most years there isn't enough snow).  4th street is blocked off for several blocks both before and after D Street.  A couple of blocks leading up to the starting line at D Street is used at the staging area for all the mushers and their teams.  It is blocked off from foot traffic for several blocks after the starting line.  But Scott and I were allowed entrance to the staging area since Georgeann had purchased passes for us.  It was very thoughtful of her, and we really enjoyed it.  We could wander among the mushers and talk to them as they got set up.

At 9:00 they started off the mushers, beginning with #2 and then each musher in numerical order, two minutes apart.  #1 was an honorary musher, a long time race supporter elected each year by the ITC.  Like many civic events, The Iditarod Dog Sled Race is operated as a fundraiser with the net proceeds distributed to local  charities.  As part of the fundraising, the ITC auctions off rides in the sleds of the mushers.  People bid on particular mushers, and the winning bid rides in that mushers sled at the ceremonial start in downtown Anchorage.  Our gracious host, Georgeann, submitted a winning bid with one of the mushers, and was able to ride in the sled for the first several miles of the start.  What a treat for her!

After a while, Scott and I decided to get a hot dog from one of the many street vendors.  Scott had a regular hot dog, but I had to try a reindeer dog, a local favorite.  I tasted very much like a "regular" hot dog, and it was actually pretty good.  Eating was difficult though, because you needed to take your gloves off to eat, but then our hands got too cold really quickly and we had to keep putting our gloves on to warm up.  After most of the mushers had started (it takes over two hours to start all 70), Scott and I were ready to leave so we walked back to the car.  It was still below 30 degrees then.

We went to dinner that night with Grant and Georgeann, and another couple they knew who lived in Anchorage.  We had a real nice dinner and enjoyed visiting with all of them.  Grant took an interest in Scott and the two of them talked for quite a bit.  I hope they get a chance to connect more on the future.

The next day (Sunday) was the official start of the Iditarod in Willow, Alaska.  We rode a school bus from the Millenium Hotel for about two hours to Willow.  The race was set up out in the middle of a big frozen lake, maybe two miles wide.  Temporary fencing was set up with a staging area for all the teams, funneling them through the starting gate, where they once again let a team off every two minutes.  The temperature was 16 degrees on the lake, and the ice covering on the lake was probably a couple of feet thick.  The cold quickly went through my L.L. Bean hunting boots and made my feet really, really cold.  Georgeann had done this before and knew to bring some very big throw pillows for us to stand on.  I felt silly standing on the pillows at first, but quickly got over it when my feet warmed up again.

The race started at 2pm, with #2 starting first, #3 starting two minutes later, and so on.  That allowed each musher to bring his team up to the starting line, make some last minute adjustments and hug each dog before they started.  Each and every one of these mushers is obviously a dog lover.  But these dogs are born to run!  While in the starting gate, there are at least six people along the dog line, holding the dogs back; and 6 men holding the sled back.  Otherwise, the dogs would take off without the musher.  The dogs are jumping up and down and trying to pull the sled, the whole time they're in the starting gates.  One look at these dogs and you know they are not running under protest.  They live to run!  They can hardly wait for their turn.  In fact, they can't wait.  They have to be held back until it's time to go.

Rules have been developed over the years for the benefit and protection of the dogs; but most of the mushers are way ahead of the rules.  Each dog wears protective booties to protect their feet from sharp ice, rocks, etc, with lots of spare booties carried in the sleds.  The dogs are fed and rested regularly.  Each dog is checked by a vet at every rest stop along the way, about every 50 miles on average.  Any dog showing any signs of illness or stress of any sort is immediately withdrawn from the race.  Each musher starts with up to 16-20 dogs, so that he can continue on even after having several dogs withdrawn.

When reaching a rest stop, the musher firsts checks in with a volunteer who logs in his number and time, then the musher checks each dog, lays out some straw for the dogs to rest on, feeds the dogs, takes care of any special needs of the dogs; and then and only then does he take care of his own needs for food or rest.

So just over two hours later, the last musher (#70) leaves and the festivities are over for that day.  So we got back on the bus for the two hour ride back to Anchorage.  Of course, the mushers have just started their trek and the leader will arrive in Nome roughly 9 days later.

It was an amazing time for Scott and me, to see one of the most famous races in the entire world.  We really enjoyed the fun and excitement of the festivities, not to mention the introduction into what cold weather is really like.  I guess the next time we go, we'll be veterans at this Iditarod thing.

Several times that week I had asked Scott if he was having a good time.  He always said yes, but I wasn't sure if he was just being nice (that's how he is) or he really was glad he came.  But the next morning as we were heading to the airport to leave, he said to me, "Bopa, the next time we come to the Iditarod..."  Yeah!  That's all I needed to hear.  He wants to do it again.  Of course, he finished his statement with, "..I'd like to arrive the day before the real start (in Willow) and then just hang out at Georgeann's cabin for a few days."  So what if he didn't care for the Musher's Banquet or the ceremonial start.  He liked the race and hanging out with his grandpa in a snowbound cabin.  I definitely enjoyed spending time with Scott.

After we got home I decided that next year we could go to Nome to see the winner cross the finish line.  But we couldn't make arrangements for a place to stay, so we'll have to skip it, at least for next year.  Maybe some other time.

EAA AirVenture in Oshkosh, Wisconsin

Ever since getting my private pilot license in 2003, other pilots have told me, "You HAVE to go to Oshkosh!" They were referring of course to the annual mother of all fly-ins, EAA AirVenture in Oshkosh, WI. It's a week long affair with attendance in excess of 500,000. After 6 years of flying, I finally decided it was time to do it. I had been stretching my wings each year, trying to learn some new flying skill, fly farther than I had before, or just do something really fun I hadn't done before.

I flew my first real cross-country with Dan Dawson to Pocatello, Idaho in 2004. That trip was flown in a 1974 Piper Cherokee 140, and was about 700 nm (nautical miles). Next I obtained my Instrument rating in 2005. In 2006 I went to Seattle, WA to get my Seaplane rating. In 2007 I flew Victor to Salt Lake City, UT to attend the Rotary International Convention. In 2008 I flew Victor to Council Bluffs, IA to a Rotary fellowship meeting, a total of 1700 nm. That trip took 3 days of flying in each direction. While attending that meeting, Dave Flinn told me that he knew a place I could stay, if I was going to Oshkosh. He knew a couple (Bob & Dorothy Ray) with a home in very close proximity to the Oshkosh event, and they set up beds in their garage and basement, and tents and trailers in their back yard for attendees to stay during the event.

With that information, I knew it was finally time to attend Oshkosh. I convinced Erik & Victoria Gilbert to also attend Oshkosh, so we could fly together. They agreed to fly along with me in their Cessna 172, so I called the Rays and made arrangements for the three of us to stay there.

The trip started mid-morning on Friday July 24, when I left Marina, CA, and Erik & Victoria left Watsonville, CA at about the same time in their 172. We tried to communicate directly with each other on a frequency sometimes used for that purpose, 122.75. We used it mainly to give status reports to each other so we knew if we were keeping up with each other. We arrived in Lovelock, NV, about 30 minutes northeast of Reno, to fuel up and take a potty break. It was hot in Lovelock! Whew! It was 100 degrees and high desert with virtually no vegetation, like most of Nevada. At least we got to stretch our legs. After a short break we took off again, headed for Ogden, UT, our planned stop for the night.

Before reaching Ogden, I noticed my ammeter was showing about a 15amp discharge. At the beginning of the trip I had put an "INOP" cover on my VOR guage because it had stopped working. These two events were probably related, but I had not noticed the discharging battery previously. The next morning (Saturday) my battery was dead and wouldn't turn over the engine. I knew it would take at least a couple of hours to recharge my battery, and probably more time to diagnose and fix the real problem; so I told Erik & Victoria to go on without me, and I would try to catch up later.

I spent the next two hours waiting for my battery to be charged, and then flew a few miles north to Logan, UT, the only place within a 100 miles of Salt Lake City where I could find a mechanic working on this Saturday. The next couple of hours were spent talking to the mechanic in Logan as he diagnosed the problem, and with a couple of phone calls to my home town mechanic, Bob Ross. After all was said and done, the three of us decided it was probably the battery causing the problem, and the rest of the electrical seemed to be operating properly. The battery was showing a strong charge on the ammeter after being recharged, we could find no obvious problem with the alternator or ACU (alternator control unit, aka voltage regulator). We all decided that the best thing for me to do at this point was to press on, keeping an eye on the ammeter. By this time it was late afternoon and too late to travel any further; so I spent the night in a nearby hotel resting up for the next day. Via a text message from Erik, I found out he and Victoria had made it to Pierre, SD, our planned stop for the 2nd night.

The next morning (Sunday) I left Logan about 9am and had a non-eventful flight to a fuel stop in Casper, WY, and then to Pierre, SD and spent the night. Flying into the pattern at Pierre I noticed other pilots in the pattern pronouncing it as "Pir" or "Peer". Not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to myself, I also pronounced it "Pir" as I entered the pattern. :-) Erik and Victoria made it to Madison, WI that same night, also a planned stop.

During our initial planning, Erik suggested that we spend the last night in a town near Oshkosh, like Madison, so the flight into Oshkosh could be short and early in the morning while we were still fresh and could give the flight into Oshkosh our full attention. All pilots flying into Oshkosh are required to download from the Internet and read a 32 page NOTAM (NOTice to Air Men), describing the special procedures for flying into and out of Oshkosh during AirVenture week. The basic procedures for flying VFR (Visual Flight Rules) into Oshkosh are:

Monitor the Oshkosh weather frequency at least 30 miles out, for wind direction, visibility, etc. After noting the weather information, monitor a specific frequency called "Fisk Approach" to instructions from the controller at that location.

About this time you are approaching a small town named Ripon, and you need to be at 1,800' altitude and at an airspeed of 90 knots or less. You must keep a 1/2 mile gap between you and the plane ahead of you, without flying "S Curves" to maintain spacing. If unable to maintain spacing, you are required to drop out and try again, picking an airplane to follow that is close to your speed. Ripon is about 20 miles from Oshkosh, and is like a funnel where all planes enter the system. At Ripon start following the railroad tracks that run northeast toward Fisk and Oshkosh. There are large orange arrows on the tracks to help you identify them. About 10 miles past Ripon is the town of Fisk. By this time you will be hearing the controller describe your plane (e.g. blue high wing taildragger) and ask you to acknowledge him by rocking your wings.

Unlike normal ATC communications, they do not want you talking on the frequency except for emergencies and when they ask you a question that requires a specific reply. Once identifed, the controller gives you directions to one of two different runways, and tells you to switch to the tower frequency for your particular runway assignment. You rock your wings to acknowledge his instructions. He also watches your plane to see that you've turned as instructed.

As you approach the assigned runway, the tower instructs you to land on or after a particular colored dot on the runway. There are 3 or 4 dots on each runway, and they are used to land more than one plane at a time. For example, "Blue high wing taildragger, land on or after the pink dot, and IMMEDIATELY turn left off the runway onto the grass without waiting for the next taxiway. Red Cessna, you land on the green dot and IMMEDIATELY turn left onto the grass without hesitation."

As advertised, this place really is the busiest airport in the world for one week each year!

Erik & Victoria were staying a day ahead of me, so they flew into Oshkosh early Monday morning. On Monday morning I left "Pir" and flew to Owattona airport in Minnesota for fuel and potty break, before continuing on to Madison for the night. I rose early Tuesday morning, departing Madison at 8am, and landed in Oshkosh at 9am. Fortunately, the route wasn't busy at that time of the morning. In fact, I could hear the Fisk controller talking to other planes, but couldn't see any of them. The first and only plane I saw in front of me was a Cessna on a 1/2 mile final approach as I was still 3 miles from the runway. As I approached the runway I was told to land on the pink dot and IMMEDIATELY turn left off the runway onto the grass. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed thousands and thousands of airplanes parked in every conceivable direction within a couple miles of the runways. At that point a very big grin spread across my face. I had finally come to Oshkosh and I was landing at the biggest air show in the world!

And just before touching down I glanced to the left and noticed thousands of people standing alongside the runways watching me land! Fortunately, I was down on the runway before I had time to get nervous and also fortunately, it was one of my better landings. Whew! But it was a couple of miles and another 30 minutes of taxiing before I reached my parking space.

After tying down my plane, leaving fueling instructions on my propeller and unloading my luggage; I started the bus ride, tram ride and the final 1/2 mile walk to my housing. I finally reached the Rays house about 11:30. Bob helped me pick out the best bed in the house (i.e. garage) and then I went into the house to relax for a bit. I had walked a long way carrying my fully stuffed backpack and my large fully stuffed dufflebag.

After unpacking and organizing my things and catching my breathe, I walked back toward all the activity. By far, this was the largest fly-in I had ever seen. In fact, it was the largest organized event of any nature that I had ever seen. There were hundreds of aircraft related vendors covering acres and acres; some out in the open in grassy areas; some in grassy areas with various sizes of tents; and many inside large exhibit halls. There were manufacturers, wholesalers and brokers selling the newest model of aircraft, floats for floatplanes, aircraft engines, avionics of all sorts, aircraft interiors and seats, headsets, tie-downs, chocks, charts and other publications, specialty products of all kinds, etc. etc. And of course, there were "official" hats, clothing and souvenirs of all kinds. In short, it was a pilot's candy store. Every aisle had something to catch my attention and cause me to stop and investigate. It was all so exciting!

I eventually made it to the flightline and had made contact with Erik & Victoria (via text messaging) along the way. With sporadic cell phone service throughout the airport grounds, we soon discovered that text messaging was the only reliable method of communication for keeping in touch with each other. We found each other on the flight line and caught up with personal news since we last spoke with each other on Saturday. Then the Airbus A380 made its grand entrance, circling overhead several times before finally landing in a stiff crosswind. What an amazing sight! Two days later we were able to tour the interior after a two hour wait in line.

This particular plane was not in regular commercial service; rather, it was used internally mostly for testing purposes. Most of the interior walls were open, exposing all the electrical cables and conduit in the walls and ceilings. There were no passenger seats setup. In their place were rows of plastic barrels filled with water, meant to approximate the weight of passengers for testing purposes, each barrel representing 3 passengers at 180# each. After walking the length of the first passenger compartment, which resembles the layout and size of a 747's compartment, we climbed a stairway to enter a duplicate passenger compartment of the same size. Yes, it's a double-decker! And it's huge! The total capacity is listed as 525 in a typical layout for 1st class, business class and coach passengers. Unfortunately, the cockpit was closed to public inspection, so we could only imagine the fancy glass panel electronics used to fly this behemoth. For pilot types like me it was definitely worth the two hour wait in line.

Another great memory of the event was the forum featuring Chester "Sully" Sullenberger and Jeff Skiles of the famous water landing of US Airways flight 1549 into the Hudson River. Each man received a standing ovation from the overflow crowd as they walked into the forum tent area. The first thing Sully pointed out at the start of the forum was that First Officer Jeff Skiles was every bit as responsible for the safe landing as was he. They worked as a team during the 3 minute emergency and Sully just happened to be the one at the controls. Sully has 23,000 flight hours compared to Jeff's 20,000. But for circumstances, Jeff would also be a captain and was every bit as qualified as Sully to be a captain. Then it was opened to questions from the audience, which for the most part were mainly technical questions that a pilot would ask about the actual flying of the airplane. Many questions were preceded with a comment to the effect that, "You two are heroes in my book!" At least two persons took the mic to merely say, "I have no questions. I just wanted to say I think you are true heroes, and to thank you both for what you did!" In one of his responses, Sully stated that he had come to realize that his new found "temporary" celebrity status was an opportunity to make a real difference in aircraft safety, and is working with the FAA to do so. This guy has his head on straight. He credits training and everyone else's input for the positive outcome of his Hudson River landing. He constantly repeats that the outcome would never have turned out so well without the training, skill and work of his entire crew, the air traffic controllers, and the different rescue crews from both sides of the Hudson. Needless to say, both pilots received another standing ovation as the forume ended.

Another notable memory was seeing and hearing well-known actor and pilot Harrison Ford introduce one of his movies, "Six Days Seven Nights" at an outdoor theatre on Thursday night. He was on the stage with Edsel Ford to introduce the movie. Edsel took the opportunity to state that his pride that Ford Motor Company had not taken any government bailout funds, which received a strong applause from the audience. Harrison of course spoke mostly about the flying aspects of making the movie. A DeHavilland Beaver was featured in the movie, which he was not qualified to fly at first. He took the necessary instruction, but still wasn't allowed by the insurance company to fly it with passengers in the movie, due to his experience level in that particular model and type. During one scene, he was supposed to be flying with his co-star Anne Heche as passenger; but it was actually his male CFI (certified flight instructor) wearing a dress and make-up to look like Anne. That of course got a chuckle from the audience. He impressed me as a very down to earth person, not at all taken up with his celebrity status. He admitted that acting paid very well and he would continue acting as long as he was able to make money doing it. He was very friendly with the crowd as he left the area, stopping to sign autographs, and even allowing his photograph to be taken with a couple of young female fans. He was in no hurry and eventually climbed into the back seat of a modest SUV. He returned waves through the open back window of the vehicle as they slowly drove through the crowd. Another "celebrity" he seems to really have his head on straight. I'm seeing a common thread here, of good guys and pilots. Hmmm.

We spent the rest of the week enoying the sights, sounds and food of this very well organized and staffed event. Having worked on many different events myself, I was amazed at how smoothly it all worked. There were trams and busses covering all of the heavily traveled routes. Food and drink vendors were well placed and well spaced. You were never far from food, drink, a bench or a clean restroom or porta-potty. Vendors of similar types were grouped together. All the forums were held in the same area. The different types of attendee aircraft on display were grouped together (antiques, war birds, experimental, home builts,etc.) And every volunteer you met was friendly, knowledgable and efficient. The only problem they were not able to solve was my lack of stamina. There was just too much to see and I got too tired to see it all. I guess I'll just have to go back again to see the rest of it. :-)

All three of us decided to leave Friday morning. We were getting tired and felt we had probably seen all we really wanted to see, at least at this point. Whateve was left to see was not as important on Friday as it would have been on Tuesday. But the main reason was the weather. After raining on Thursday, it was going to be clear on Friday, and then another storm was coming in on Saturday that would make it difficult getting out of town for a couple of days. So we got up early Friday, and I took off for home, while Erik & Victoria left for a side trip to Arkansas to visit her brother.

The trip home for me was uneventful, except for my stop in Albuquerque on Saturday. My right brake went out just as I was parking Victor. I noticed the right pedal felt soft and the plane wouldn't turn right. Pushing the left pedal would turn the plane left, but the right pedal had no effect on turning or stopping. As soon as I got out of the plane, I knew the problem: There was a puddle of red fluid on the asphalt around the right tire. Brake fluid was draining out of the system on the right side. The attendant helped me push Victor into his tie-down spot for the night. Once in the office, I gave him my credit card for fuel and then he called a local mechanic for me. Since it was the weekend, the mechanic was going to charge me extra for the work, but I didn't have much choice. And after the difficulty finding a mechanic the previous weekend to look at my charging problem, I felt fortunate to have someone available to come to me and fix the brake that same afternoon. The FBO took me to a hotel, and the mechanic called me that evening to say the brake was fixed and I was good to go. I was able to leave at zero-dark-thirty (early) the next morning as planned, and was on my way home without losing any time in the air due to the brake problem.

The weather was a tad hot, but severe clear for the last day of my trip. Leaving Albuquerque, I stopped for fuel and breakfast in Prescott, AZ, lunch and fuel in Lancaster, CA (near Palmdale) and from there made it to Watsonville that afternoon.

As always, it was good to be home. I lay in bed with a smile on my face that night, knowing I had just finished another great cross-country flying experience. But before going to sleep, I began to wonder about my next flying goal. What's next?

Mountain Flying in McCall, Idaho

In June 2009 I flew to McCall, Idaho for the McCall Mountain/Canyon Flying Seminar. The town of McCall is in a valley surrounded by large mountains, about an hour's flight north of Boise at 5,000 ft. elevation.

I left Watsonville about 10:30 am on Father's Day, spent the first night in Winnemucca, Nevada, and flew the rest of the way on Monday, arriving in McCall just after lunchtime. I was greeted at my tiedown by Art Lazzarini, chief CFI for the company. And then I was greeted in the office lobby by 3 more friendly pilots, two students and one more instructor. The seminar didn't begin for 24 hours, but pilots would continue to arrive all that afternoon and throughout the next morning. That afternoon I had an introductory meeting with Lori MacNichol, owner of the flying school, as did all the arriving students.

After meeting with Lori, I checked into my room at the AmericInn, which just happened to be across the street from the airport. It couldn't have been any more convenient. In fact, our ground school classroom was held in the conference room of the hotel, just down the hall from my room.

Our first ground school was Tuesday afternoon. We received our flight assignments at the end of the day, both time and instructor, for the next morning. There were 14 students and only half as many instructors, so we were split into two student groups. Each instructor flew twice each day; from 6am-9am with one student, and then from 9am-noon with another student. Each student would alternate flying times for each of the three days of flying. Each day of flying was followed by and afternoon ground school.

Ground school was very well done. This was not something slammed together to fill the available time. Each subject covered was enlightening and important to learning to fly in the mountains. And the curriculum was comprised of important lessons learned from years of flying; and taught by accomplished instructors. After all, each classroom instructor was also a Certified Flight Instructor (CFI). They covered such important subjects as density altitude (the effect of temperature and altitude to engine performance); learning the characteristics of our own plane at different speeds; how not to get yourself boxed into a closed canyon; how to turn around in a canyon in the smallest space possible; flying along the right side of a canyon to maximize the space available for turning around; the characteristics and effects of wind and temperatures around mountains and in canyons; how to evaluate a landing strip or spot prior to landing, including determining the best landing direction, the best abort point, and departure direction; determining the best approach speed and attitude for short field landings, and the best speed and attitude for short field takeoffs, especially with terrain or large trees limiting access into and out of landing strips; and last but not least, survival gear and methods in mountainous terrain. I was very impressed by the content and the quality of the presentation of our ground school. It was well presented quality information that made me a better and safer pilot by the end of the week.

The actual flying we did each morning was just plain fun! Of course, we were learning a lot about flying our own plane in the mountain environment and becoming better and safer mountain pilots. But I was having so much fun that I hardly had time to notice how my skills were improving with every landing and departure. My first flight was at 6am on Wednesday with Paul. This day was practicing on open grass strips around McCall. All of these strips were relatively long and in open areas with easy approaches and departures. None had any trees at either end requiring a steep approach. All except one, that is. The last strip I practiced at did have tall trees at one end. The first couple of times I landed and departed using the open end of the strip, just to get used to it. Then I landed at the end with the tall trees to practice a steep approach. The strip was very long, which left plenty of room for error. After two or three times, I became very good at maintaining a stablized steep approach with a minimum of clearance above the trees.

Day 2 of flying started at 9am with Bart, a minister from Gardnerville, Nevada. As it turned out, Bart and I have two common friends who live in that area. Like the other students on day 2, we flew into the high mountains east of McCall for our next series of practice strips. The first strip for me as a popular one known as Johnson Creek. Johnson Creek is probably the most famous and most used strip in that part of Idaho. It is a well manicured grass strip 3,400' long by 150' wide. There are two full-time state rangers employed to maintain the runway and surrounding camping site. It is one of the smoothest and softest grass strips I've ever landed on. It has room for over a hundred planes to park alongside the runway, and camping and day-use facilities for that many people as well. There are many picnic tables, outdoor grills, bathrooms and shower facilities. I was amazed to find such a nice campground hidden so far away into the rough mountains of Idaho. Apparently, it is very common for backcountry pilots to use Johnson Creek as their base camp for a stay of several days, while they take several day trips to other strips in the area, and then return to Johnson Creek in the afternoon to spend the rest of the day and night.

After Johnson Creek, I flew to 2 other strips that day, each with its own personality. Every strip in the backcountry has its own difficulties with surrounding terrain obstructing either the approach departure or view of the runway until on final approach. Some strips have trees at one or both ends; some are very short or very narrow; and others are tucked into a closed canyon, requiring a landing in one direction, and a departure in the other direction (leaving from the same end that you entered.) Since every strip was so unique, I decided I would never go into a new strip without having someone along who knew that strip very well. That is, until I had gained a whole lot more of mountain flying experience under my belt.

Day 3 started at 6am with Woody. We hit 3 more new strips that I hadn't been to before. The most memorable was Sulphur Creek. It was long and wide with no major terrain or obstructions to intimidate me during the landing. There was no soft grass, rather, it was mostly dirt with some gravel for the last 1/3 of the strip. We parked off to the side and Woody said, "Let's go get some coffee." Along with another student and instructor who had landed just behind us, we walked back down the runway a hundred yards to a lodge that I hadn't noticed on landing. Inside were a few people having breakfast in a big dining room/living room/family room. I was surprised to see so many people in the middle of what I thought was nowhere. Woody informed me that this lodge at Sulphur Creek would be the home base for Lori's advanced mountain flying course next summer. After enjoying our coffee and the view from a plastic chair outside the lodge, we climbed back in Victor for the next strip. We hit a couple more that day, but none as memorable as Sulphur Creek.

Friday evening, after our last ground school, all the students and instructors met at a local restaurant on the lake for a farewell dinner. I was surprised to see Rich Stowell, from my emergency maneuvers course in Santa Paula, at the restaurant and waiting to have dinner with us. He was spending the summer in McCall to offer his course to backcountry pilots, including those attending Lori's mountain flying seminars.

I highly recommend Lori MacNichol's McCall Mountain/Canyon Flying Seminar to any pilot wishing to increase his flying skills, wanting to learn more about controlling his or her own plane or just wanting to have a great time flying in a whole different environment from normal flat country asphalt runways. It was the most fun I've had with Victor since learing to fly.

Sky King

Emergency Maneuvers

In my continuing effort to improve my skills, I decided to take Rich Stowell's Emergency Maneuvers Training course in Santa Paula. It's comprised of three sections: Module I is Stall/Spin Awareness, Module II is In-Flight Emergencies and Module III is Basic Aerobatics. This training seemed to be something that would increase my flying skills, more specifically with my plane, and therefore make me a safer pilot.

Santa Paula is about 10 miles inland from the coastal town of Ventura and nestled in a small valley that protects it from the coastal fog. The locals claim that Santa Paula stays clear most of the time, and is the last place to get fogged in when it does get overcast. In fact, the entire coast was fogged in during my 2.2 hour flight down from Marina Sunday morning, November 22. I was beginning to think I would need an alternate airport, but as soon as I turned inland toward Santa Paula, the sky cleared up and there it was below me! It was beautiful VFR weather the entire two days I was there.

I was scheduled for two days of one-on-one instruction from Rich. It turned out to be a lot more laid back experience than I was expecting. I arrived at the Santa Paula Airport about 9:30am and Rich was there to greet me. The first thing I noticed was at least a dozen Citabria's parked in the transient area, and in front of CP Aviation. The predominant model seemed to be the Decathlon/Super Decathlon. I also noticed a couple of low wing aerobatic planes parked in an open maintenance hangar. I later learned that there were several aerobatic instructors, students, and pilots at this airport. In fact, it seemed to be the major reason for this airport's existance.

After tying Victor down and making a potty stop, we went into the classroom at CP Aviation. He briefed me about our schedule and what to expect both days, and then got into about an hour's worth of ground school on Dutch rolls, stalls, and spins. I told him I had only done one spin, with someone else flying the plane, and my stomach didn't take it very well. He assured me I would not only learn how to get out of a spin, but I would be able to exit at a predetermined compass heading. I found this hard to believe, but I was willing to give it a try.

Then we went outside to take a look at Victor, to be sure he felt it would be OK for the training. He looked closely at the wing struts, wire braces, landing gear, and interior. After he satisfied himself that Victor was in good shape, we climbed in for the first flight. Once in the air he told me to climb to 3,500' for our maneuvers, to which I responded, "Are you sure that's high enough?" Of course he said it was. I cannot describe my apprehension about doing the first spin.

First we warmed up with some Dutch Rolls, where I rotate the wings longitudinally, keeping the plane pointed in the same direction.  I practiced sitting straight up in the seat, instead of leaning with the turn.  Then I practiced Dutch Rolls only looking at the left wing through the side window.  That perspective helps you keep the plane more straight as you roll from side to side.  Then another one looking only at the right wing.  

Now we're ready for the first spin.  Rich explained that we would fly parallel to Highway 126 below, and use it as a marker to determine where we were in the spin. After leveling off at 70 knots, I dropped the power back to idle and tried to maintain altitude by slowly pulling back on the stick. As it slowed down to 45 knots I gave it hard right rudder and the nose immediately turned over and pointed down. It seemed like we were pointing absolutely straight down, but Rich claims we were really at about a 60 degree angle.

As it spun to the right, I was supposed to hit hard left rudder after we had turned 270 degrees, i.e. when the highway appeared to be level with the wings. Then I would push the stick slightly forward until I felt the wind catch the wings again, and then level the wings with the horizon. Theoretically, the spin would continue for a 1/4 turn after my recovery inputs (opposite rudder and stick forward) and we should exit heading parallel to the highway and on the same heading that we started on before the spin started. Of course, I was a little nervous about this entire maneuver, to say the least, so I anticipated way ahead and we exited after completing only a 3/4 turn. I didn't care; it was a complete success from my point of view. Whew, what a ride! And my stomach was only slightly annoyed at the wild ride; it wasn't nearly as bad as my first experience. Maybe I could do these spins after all!

We did one more power off stall at 45 knots, but this time to the left. Once again, I hit the opposite rudder too early and we exited after only a 3/4 turn. Then we did a power on stall, with about 1/2 power, followed by another right hand spin. This time I came out at about 5/6 turn, so I was getting better. We did one more power on stall with a left hand spin, and then called we it quits. That flight had so much going on and seemed like we were up there for some time, but it was on 7/10 of an hour.

Before this flight, I couldn't understand how anybody could possibly count the turns in a spin because things were moving too fast. But by my 4th spin, I was actually watching the ground (highway) and keeping track of where we were in the spin. We only did one-turn spins that day, but I know I could have counted the turns if we had done multiple-turn spins. Just as Rich said, after your first couple of spins, they actually appear to be slowing down. They don't, but they appear to be, because you're focused on details and keeping track of your progress.

I finished the flight with a 180 degree power-0ff landing.  Once the power is reduced to idle on downwind, I have to adjust the angle of the plane to the runway so that I can still reach the runway without overshooting the near end too far.  In other words, I'm learning to fine tune the landing and learn to feel from how far away I can still make the runway.

The afternoon included two more lessons.  Each lesson included between 30-45 minutes of ground school, followed by 30-45 minutes of flying.  The next maneuvers were aggravated spins.  Rich would take the controls and simulate an accidental spin-inducing maneuver, and then I would take the controls and recover from the spin.

Then we practiced skidding turns, frequently encountered on final when correcting from overshooting the turn from base to final.  These turns can easily become fatal spins, since you don't have enough altitude to recover.

Day 2 ended and I flew home very pleased with my progress.  I didn't necessarily learn as much as younger or more skilled pilots, but that's not the point.  I did learn a lot about spins and other emergency maneuvers; a lot more than I knew two days before.  I felt that I was on my way to becoming a better, safer pilot.  I learned a little more about safely piloting Victor.

On December 8, 2008 I flew down again to Santa Paula for Module II of Rich's course.  After practising more Dutch Rolls and spins, I did my first roll.  For the roll I sped up to 120 kts, quickly raised the nose to about 30 degrees, and then pushed the stick hard to the left.  I held the stick hard left until Victor turned to about 30 degrees before the complete turn.  Victor is back pointed in the same direction that we started, but nose down.  Now I push the nose slightly down to regain lift and then raise the nose to level again.  Rolls are much more fun and easier on my stomach.

On the next flight we practiced simulated control loss.  I would start a left turn and Rich would then hold the aileron as if it was stuck to the left, as if some loose object rolled into a cable pulley and jammed it.  We also practiced turning and then Rich held the rudder in position as if I had lost rudder control.  Whenever any control is lost, I fly Victor with whatever remaining controls are still working.  With ailerons stuck left, I compensate with enough right rudder to fly in the desired direction.  It's very much like an induced slip, that is, uncoordinated; but it works.  A rudder stuck in one direction is compensated for with opposite aileron.  Once again, it's uncoordinated flight but it works.

I headed back to the airport from this session as if I had no aileron or rear stabilizer, i.e. I couldn't use the stick.  I flew back and landed using only pitch trim, rudder and engine power.  This was done flying a regular pattern (no straight-ins), although slowly and with very small corrections.  A left turn was made with a series of alternating slight left rudder, then back to straight, then slight left rudder, then straight, etc. until the turn is completed.  It's amazing how well Victor can be flown with the complete loss of a flight control.

This Module ended with a ground school about off-airport landings.  This session was interesting and informative.  First, let me say everything Rich teaches is not just his theory.  It is all backed up with years of study and research.  He has statistics to back up everything thing he teaches.

Anyway, the first thing I learned about off-airport landings had to do with engine failure on climbout.  Human nature is immediately turn around and head back to the airport.  But hundreds of case studies and statistics say your chances of survival are better if you pick a spot to put it down somewhere straight ahead.  In order to turn 180 degrees and make it back to the runway, you will need approximately 1,000 feet of altitude (agl).  A very small percentage who have attempted that 180 degree return to the runway have made it safely; and most of those were over 900 feet above the runway elevation.

The second thing I learned has to do with picking the spot.  Naturally, an open flat field is ideal.  If you can, avoid power lines, power poles, towers and buildings.  But what if your only choice is a grove of trees?  Do you try to land in the upper branches or closer to the ground?  The answer is to land as close to the ground as you can and try to put the nose of the plane between any trees if you can.  Don't try to land on the tops of the trees.  Your best choice of survival is flying as slow as you can, as level to the ground as you can and as close to the ground as possible.

 Hitting a tree trunk head on at your stall speed is survivable.  The G-Factor of such a landing is well below what the human body can survive.  Landing at the tops of 30' or more trees is more dangerous because of the distance you would fall to the ground.

I highly recommend Rich Stowell's Emergency Maneuvers Training course to all pilots.  It's fun, you learn a lot about controlling your plane more expertly and it can save your life.  Go do it!

Stay tuned for Victor's next adventure:  mountain canyon flying with Lori MacNichol in Idaho, summer 2009.

Council Bluffs

I just returned home from my longest cross country flight ever. I left Watsonville, CA on Tuesday morning, September 30, 2008 and arrived in Council Bluffs, IA on Thursday afternoon, October 2, 2008. A distance of 1,700 miles that took 17 hours of flight time. The trip home took 19 hours.

My excuse for the trip was to attend the annual meeting of ICUFR, International Computer Users Fellowship of Rotarians. The real reason of course was to fly to Council Bluffs, IA. It would be a longer cross country than my previous record of 800 miles in June 2007, when I flew to the Rotary International Convention in Salt Lake City, UT.

I flew the entire trip under Instrument Flight Rules, filing an IFR flight plan for each leg of the trip. This was to allow friends and family to follow my flight online at www.flightaware.com, by entering Victor's tail#, N8571V. It was also good practice for me in filing and flying instrument flight plans, since I had done very little actual instrument flying since obtaining my instrument rating in 2005. I now feel like a pro after some 36 total hours of IFR flying on this trip. Each day's flights were filed online the evening before using flight planning software at www.aeroplanner.com.

Earlier this summer I had upgraded Victor's instrument panel to include a Garmin 430 GPS, and an Aspen PFD (Primary Flight Display). This would be my first opportunity to use these new instruments in actual IFR flying, where they really shine.

Each leg of the flight was selected, based upon three sets of criteria. First, it needed to be as close to two hours flying time as possible, and not over three hours. The actual legs varied from 100 miles to 330 miles, and took from 1.2 hours to 3.2 hours. And, there needed to be fuel available at each stop. Not all airports have fuel available. The technical reason was that Victor holds a maximum of just over 4 hours worth of fuel. More importantly though, Sky King has trouble making it longer than two hours in the air before needing a potty stop. Some of these "airports" are barely more than an asphalt strip long enough and wide enough to land a small plane; devoid of fuel, food or a rest room.

Second, the stop nearest the middle of the day needed to have some sort of restaurant on the field. I knew I needed to actually sit down at a meal in the middle of the day, for an hour's rest as much as the nourishment. A five minute pause to eat a granola bar from a vending machine just wouldn't cut it.

Third, the last stop of the day needed to have a nearby motel or hotel where I could spend the night. The last thing I wanted to do is sleep on the ground under Victor's wing, even in the best of weather. Baggage room in Victor is limited and I didn't need the extra burden of carrying a tent or sleeping bag.

The first leg of the trip was from Watsonville (KWVI) to Fox Field (KWJF) in Lancaster, CA. Fox Field is a Class D airport with self-service fuel pumps and a restaurant. It's a nice airport, very similar to Watsonville, and it also has a tower. I fueled my plane here and had lunch.

The next stop was Needles, CA (KEED), a non-towered airport with self-service fuel pumps and toilet facilities. It was somewhere out in the middle of the desert (BFE?), and I had no idea which direction it was, or how far, to the town of Needles. Fortunately, it didn't matter. Before I had time to fuel up Victor, a small middle-aged black man came out to give me instructions on the use of the fuel pump. I already knew how to use it, but I appreciated his assistance and the chance to talk to someone. He was very friendly and hung around until I left in case I needed anything.

From Needles I flew to Winslow-Lindbergh Field (KINW) in Winslow, AZ. I arrived there after 6pm, so there was no one around to fuel up my plane (no self-service pumps) and the restaurant was closed. I called one of the motels in town, which sent a shuttle to pick me up. This shuttle was actually a taxi service, i.e. I had to pay for the ride. I got his card so I could call in the morning for a ride back to the airport. I had chosen the motel from an airport directory and called for a reservation a few days before leaving Watsonville. That was a big mistake. It was a real dump, whose heyday was 40 or 50 years ago when Route 66 still went through town. More than one person there told me the Chinese restaurant across the street from the motel had good food. They were wrong. It was edible, but definitely not good.

It was a pleasant evening and as I crossed the street on the way back to my hotel, some song lyrics came to mind: "Standing on the corner, in Winslow, Arizona..." So I called both Claire and Ellen to see if they remembered the song I was thinking of. Neither one was home, but I did talk to Kenny, who couldn't remember the name of the song, but he knew it was by The Eagles. I got a text message later from Claire, who said it was, "Take It Easy" by The Eagles. I got a decent night's sleep, regardless of the facilities, and got my ride back to the airport in the morning.

The FBO (Fixed Base Operator, or airport business) was open and the fellow there fueled up Victor for me. But he didn't know how to do a credit card sale for the fuel and the lady at the desk was late for work. I tried to tell him to just take the cash and the lady could work out the details when she got there, but he wouldn't do it. He was obviously so intimidated by any bookkeeping procedures, no matter how simple, that he didn't even feel safe taking cash from me. Fortunately, the lady got to work a few minutes later, processed my fuel purchase, and I was on my way for day 2.

The next leg was to Double Eagle II airport (KAEG), just a few miles outside of Albuquerque, NM. This airport had a physical tower on the field, but it was not yet operational. There was a lot of activity from both single- and twin-engine airplanes. It has very nice facilities, including a restaurant, so I had an early lunch there.

From there I flew to Raton Municipal Airport (KRTN) in Northeast New Mexico. This leg was flown at 13,000', the highest altitude flown on the trip. It was also the first time on the trip I ran into real weather. There were a few rain clouds ahead of me that I had to steer around, with permission from ATC (Air Traffic Control) of course. It created no particular problem and even added a little excitement to the day! I soon landed at Raton Muni, which had two very long and well maintained runways. It was a small airport as far as buildings and facilities, but there were at least six good-sized business jets parked on the tarmac. These jets were obviously in the multi-million dollar price range and looked brand new, or least very well maintained. I asked the airport manager why all those big jets were at this little municipal airport. He told me that Ted Turner owned a spread nearby, about 600,000 acres, and Mr. Turner let some people come in for elk hunting, at $13,000 per elk. It was obvious by the size of the jets parked outside on the tarmac that the cost of the elk would have been the least expensive part of any hunting trip.

Before leaving, a woman asked me to sign their guest book and pose in front of my plane for a snapshot. They had an entire book with photos of pilots who had stopped by, along with their name, plane tail# and home airport location. That particular day I was wearing my "9-11" red, white and blue patriotic shirt. She told me she liked my shirt and added, "I'll bet you're not voting for Obama." I agreed that I was voting for McCain, but thought to myself that was an interesting comment. She then went on to tell me she didn't want the government meddling in her affairs. She wanted to keep her guns and keep them loaded! That was a very different attitude than I would ever see back home in Santa Cruz County. So we went outside, I posed in front of Victor for a couple of snapshots and I was on my way.

My next stop was in Lamar, CO (KLAA). I landed right behind a Cessna and we both pulled up and parked in front of the FBO. A man ran out to see how he could help us. I was beginning to notice that the farther east I traveled, the smaller the towns and the friendlier people were. Small town America really is a nice change from larger cities and most towns in California. When I said needed a ride to town, the guy told me to use the white Chevy in the parking lot, "The keys are in it." I guess I stood there with my mouth open for a moment or two. He gave me directions to town and off I went to find a motel.

As I was getting ready to leave the next morning, I mentioned how flat the country side was around here. The lady behind the counter said, "Yeah, there aren't any mountains to spoil the view." She was absolutely right. None at all.

My next leg was to Hill City Muni (KHLC) in Hill City, Kansas, a small paved strip with a locked fuel pump. The Airport Facilities Directory (AFD) had a number to call for fuel assistance. A city employee was there within 5 minutes after I called. As he was getting ready to fuel Victor, he told me that I had to pay in either cash or check, because they didn't have their credit card system set up yet. I already expected to pay cash, since this had been explained in the AFD. Earlier I had read a review from someone who said they were allowed to leave without paying and mail in a check after they returned home. Don't you just love small towns?

After paying for my fuel, I started my final leg, from Hill City to the municipal airport in Council Bluffs, IA (KCBF). Council Bluffs is just across the Missouri River from Omaha, NE, so I had a good view of Omaha as I flew into Council Bluffs. Major cities in the Midwest are not as big as major cities on either coast. It looked smaller to me than Fresno. I haven't verified that fact, but I'm sure it's true. (I was right. For 2008, Omaha is estimated to be 432,921 and Fresno is estimated to be 486,171.)

So I landed in Council Bluffs, tied down Victor, asked the maintenance guy to fill up my two O2 tanks and checked in at the FBO. This is a larger airport with big runways and full fuel and maintenance facilities, but doesn't have a tower. That is probably because it is so close to Omaha, whose controllers take care of Council Bluffs air traffic.

During this trip, I became very familiar with both the Garmin 430 and the Aspen PFD, and learned a lot about how to get the most out of them. The Garmin has two primary navigation pages that are more commonly used; the CDI page and the moving map page. I started out using the moving map page, since it gives you a Birdseye view of your route, including nearby waypoints, airports, etc. But flying IFR routes I soon learned that I could fly more accurate routes using the CDI page. I also got very adept at using several other useful features; including finding the nearest airport or ATC frequency, finding the critical frequencies and other details of the destination airport; and adding, skipping or deleting waypoints in the flight plan. I was also able to change the desired heading from which to approach the next waypoint. One the controllers told me to "join V16 and proceed to..." I was flying to that waypoint on the 255 radial, but needed to fly it on the 25o radial. So I pushed the OBS button on the Garmin, entered the radial and waypoint information, and it directed me to the proper route to join V16. To a pilot that is very cool.

The Aspen also has some nice features, many coordinated with the flight plan entered into the Garmin. The compass radial on the HSI of the lower portion is very flexible. It has three different needles, each one of which is available to point to the GPS route, or one of two different VORs (radio beacons). It also has a small blue diamond at the top of the compass indicating the actual route, or track across the ground as affected by the wind speed and direction. The CDI page of the Garmin gives you the same information, but it's nice to have a backup for wind corrections to help you to be able to stay on course; and to have one unit to check the accuracy of another.

Another big help was the weather service, XM-WX, on the portable GPS (Garmin 496) also wired into Victor's panel. I was able to use Eric's weather subscription for the entire trip. I could already see the rainstorms between Double Eagle II and Raton Muni, but only in two dimensions. The weather service on the 496 gave me a Birdseye view, so I could see how far they extended along my route. Additionally, it gave me metars, winds aloft and many other helpful weather bits of weather information. I can see this being even more helpful with even more practice.

Once I landed at Council Bluffs, I called Bob Collins, the local Rotarian hosting the ICUFR conference. I had exchanged several emails and phone calls with Bob, but had not met him in person until he picked me up at the airport that day. Bob was the first of many really nice folks I met in Council Bluffs, and only one of many I met on my trip.

Bob and his wife Karen had all the visiting Rotarians over to their home for a wonderful dinner on Thursday night. Guests included: Robert Steinberg, Gord Hankin, Stella Russell, Stella's daughter Heather, Dave and Mary Flinn, Carl Cardey and yours truly. Bob barbecued a turkey, which I had never eaten before, and of course Karen had prepared several side dishes to go with the turkey. But first we had to taste the trays of cheese, crackers and nuts before dinner; to be washed down with some special single malt scotch the Gord had brought with him, or wine, beer, etc. All in all, it was a wonderful evening for fellowship and great conversation. I can't thank Bob and Karen enough for such a wonderful introduction to Midwestern hospitality.

Friday was a free day, so I toured three railroad museums with two of the other Rotarians, Dave and Carl. All the railroad museums in Council Bluffs are world class; and Dave and Carl were both long-time railroad buffs. They had all the historical knowledge and technical jargon down and were very helpful to have along for the tours. I had a great day touring with them. There were about 10 other Rotarians attending the conference, but the rest of them went to the local botanical gardens rather than the railroad museums. Friday night we all met for dinner at a very nice local restaurant. We were joined, in addition to the aforementioned attendees by Steve and Susan Leonard, a lady whose name I can't remember, but he is the president of Bob's Rotary Club, and Gary and Gretchen Bren, ICUFR members and speakers at our conference for the weekend.

Saturday was our conference day. A meeting room of geeks, each of whom had a laptop out and connected to the hotel wireless network, was a sight to see. Most interesting was the fact that we were all old geeks. No one was under age 50 for sure, and I'm not sure any of us were under 60. Gary Bren gave a presentation on the history of computers, with samples of early CPU's, RAM, circuit boards, laptops, etc. to pass around the room. It was quite interesting. The afternoon session included a presentation by Chris Russell, the manager of the local Google Datacenter, telling us all about Google's products and services. Later we had a long discussion with Chris, and a RI (Rotary International) IT manager in Chicago via video-phone, discussing the possibility of mapping all 32,000 Rotary Clubs on Google Maps. In the end, we decided to do a test case with the districts represented by our Board of Directors, which we will submit to RI and Google, once all the data has been collected.

We finished up with a short board meeting Sunday morning, before Bob took me to the airport to begin my trip home. By leaving around noon on Sunday, I thought I would be home Tuesday evening. It was not to be.

I took off around 11:00am from Council Bluffs with some fairly strong headwinds. I knew this would slow me down. My flight planner indicated that it would take 1:45 to fly to my first stop in Mankato, NE. I spent most of that leg with 60 knot headwinds, reducing my 125kt airspeed to 65kt groundspeed. I was barely keeping up with the cars below me! It took me 2.6 hours to get to Mankato, which was pretty much deserted. Landing at Mankato was a real challenge in the strong winds blowing from the right a 45 degree angle. They must have been in the neighborhood of 30 knots, a challenge for even the most experienced tailwheel pilot! After taxiing over the to the fuel pump, I had to set the brakes on Victor, which I rarely do, because of the strong winds trying to lift his wings off the ground again. Finding the fuel pump inoperable, I checked out the restroom, which was non-functional as well. I relieved myself behind the outhouse, and called the nearest airport in Smith Center, KS to make sure they had fuel. I didn't want to attempt another cross-wind landing like the last one if there wasn't fuel available and waiting for me. The city dispatcher answered the phone and said she would send an officer to the airport to meet me and unlock the fuel pump. It was only 26 miles, but took me another 1/2 hour to get to Smith Center airport.

After another challenging cross-wind landing at Smith Center, I taxied up to the fuel pump to find a police officer (Jamey) waiting for me as promised. The winds were blowing extremely hard on the ground, requiring me to set Victor's brakes again. As the officer unlocked the fuel pump, I noticed there was no static line to attach to Victor's exhaust pipe, and I mentioned it him. He responded, "Yeah, we don't have one of those." That was very disconcerting. A static line is meant to prevent static electricity from building up and causing an explosion. Oh, my God, what do I do? Against my better judgment I decided to go ahead and fill up the plane. Fortunately, because my fuel tanks are relatively small, nothing happened as a result of not using a static line. Whew!

Being tired and discouraged from fighting the winds for the last three hours, I decided to tie down Victor for the night and wait out the impending storm. Jamey gave me a ride into town to the Buckshot Inn, where I spent the next two nights waiting for the weather to clear. I had just happened to leave for home at the beginning of a "Perfect Storm" covering the entire Midwest US, from South Dakota to Texas. All the weather reports that first night indicated that it would be clearing up by Monday afternoon (tomorrow), but it didn't.

After getting settled in the motel Sunday afternoon, I went across the street to a local cafe for dinner. Entering the front door, I walked into a cloud of cigarette smoke. Apparently, these nice folks weren't as forward thinking as California. They still had smoking and non-smoking sections in restaurants. And a large part of the population in this area still smoked also. I found a table in the back "non-smoking" area, which was relatively smoke-free, and had a nice relaxing dinner. I also came back to this same cafe for breakfast the next morning.

When not checking weather reports on Monday, I visited with Monte, the owner of the Buckshot Inn Motel. He and his wife were very friendly and accommodating. It didn't seem like there was much else for them to do anyway. Monte even gave me a ride to the local steakhouse (8 blocks away) for dinner Tuesday night. He took me up on my offer to buy him a beer before he returned to his motel, but he refused my offer to buy him dinner. After a welcome steak dinner, I called Monte to come pick me up.

It started clearing up late Monday, and was finally clear again by Tuesday morning. Monte took me to the airport about 7:30 Tuesday, and I was finally off again, anxious to get home.

My next stop was in Lamar, CO for fuel, and then on to Las Vegas, NM (KLVS) and finally to Double Eagle II again; this time to spend the night. The weather was beautifully clear for the entire day, and for the rest of the way home. Unlike the folksy Lamar, CO, I had to rent a car at Double Eagle to drive into Albuquerque to my motel room. This time I had happened to time my stop at Double Eagle right in the middle of the Balloon Fiesta. I awoke Wednesday morning to find the skies over Albuquerque filled with beautiful hot air balloons! What a marvelous sight. I wished I could have spent more time enjoying the festival before flying home.

The tower became operational the day I left Double Eagle II. At least, that was the idea. They didn't know how to open my flight plan and told me to open it with Albuquerque Approach, once I was airborne. When I contacted Albuquerque Approach to open my flight plan, they asked why the tower didn't open it for me. I explained the confusion at the tower; he thanked me and said he would follow up with the tower. Oops. I think someone at the tower was going to get chewed out. Approach then opened my flight plan and everything worked smoothly the rest of the day.

Wednesday's stops included Winslow and Prescott, AZ, and Lancaster, CA. The last leg to Lancaster added an additional 3.2 hour flight to an already long day, but I decided it would be worthwhile to leave only one 2.5 hour leg to Watsonville on Thursday.

An interesting thing happened with Wednesday's fight plan I filed Tuesday evening. I had previously omitted an optional "alternative airport" with all other flight plans filed on the trip. But this time I decided to put in Hollister as an alternative airport, in case Watsonville was socked in. I guessed at the identifier being CHV, without verifying. After submitting the plan, then next screen said something to the effect that the alternate airport identifier was invalid, but the flight plan was still filed. In retrospect, it probably said "not filed', but I was so tired by Wednesday night that I misread it. Anyway, I went to bed thinking it was filed.

Thursday morning at the airport when I tried to open my flight plan with the tower controller, he said, "Let's wait until you get in the air, and then we'll open it." That seemed strange, but I agreed and took off as I normally do. After I was in the air a few minutes and nothing was said regarding my flight plan, I asked the tower to open it. He told me it had already been activated. I asked him if I needed to check with "Approach" or "Center". He said, "You can call them or Flight Watch if you want more information, but your plan is already activated." I accepted his explanation and continued my climb to planned altitude of 10,000'.

When I reached 10,000' I could still hear the tower controller on frequency talking to other traffic, landing and departing the airport, but he hadn't talked to me for awhile and he hadn't switched me to Approach or Center. So I said, "71V level at 10,000", just to get his attention. He seemed surprised to hear from me and said I could call Approach now. I was starting to get concerned about my "activated" flight plan. So I called Joshua Approach and checked in, "N8571V, level at 10,000." After a few moments he said, "We don't have any record of you or your flight plan in our system." It finally struck me; the tower had never given me a clearance of any sort: No altitude, no course and no transponder code. That should have been a clue for me. Another lesson learned on this trip! Always make sure you have CRAFT: Clearance, route, altitude, frequency and transponder code. Verify any part you think is missing.

So I just got flight following from Joshua (they track you on radar and provide separation, but I fly pretty much my own course and altitude) and continued home. As I approached the Bakersfield area, I sent an SMS text message to Claire, and told her to call Mom that I was VFR (i.e. not IFR) and would be home in two hours. I knew Leslie would be worried if I didn't show up on Flightaware.com as a filed flight plan.

The headwinds were still fairly strong and still slowing me down, although only half as strong as when I first left Council Bluffs on Sunday. I dropped to 8,500', then 6,500' and finally to 4,500' trying to find more favorable winds. Headwinds at the lower altitudes weren't quite as strong, but they were still slowing me down. Oh, well. I just put the "pedal to the metal" and relaxed as much as I could, flying a stick and rudder into the wind.

As I approached the Paso Robles airport I started getting excited. It was familiar territory and I knew I was only an hour from home. Flying up the Salinas Valley, I kept checking the mileage to Salinas and Watsonville. It reminded me of being a young child on a road trip with my parents and asking every two minutes, "Are we there yet?"

What a great feeling when I finally touched down on the runway in Watsonville. I had been gone a long time, living out of a suitcase and I was really glad to be home. Tonight I would sleep in my own bed!

Sky King

Victor

About a year ago I started thinking about buying my own personal plane. I wanted to have a plane I could fly at a moment’s notice and not have to schedule days or weeks in advance. I also wanted something with better performance, i.e. would climb and cruise faster, and could fly comfortably over the 10,000′ Sierra Nevada Mountains.

In early 2006 a friend, Mike Eynon, told me he was selling his 1974 Citabria. It didn’t appeal to me at first, because it was a high wing plane and it was smaller than I thought I wanted. I had flown in it one other time, but he took me up for another ride. We were barely rolling down the runway before it left the ground. It climbed easily at 1,000′ per minute. It sure had plenty of power. He let me take the stick to see how it handled. I was used to a yoke, so it didn’t feel very comfortable at first. I let him do most of the flying. But even with Mike flying the plane, I could tell it was very maneuverable. And it had great visibility. The Citabria is similar to a Piper Cub, in that it has a narrow fuselage and tandem seating, with the passenger sitting behind the pilot. Both side windows are only inches from your shoulders, so you have a great view from either side. I felt more one with the plane, rather than a body sitting inside of a plane and looking out. It was what I imagined it was like to be a bird. I thought to myself, “This is why I learned to fly!”

In April 2006 I bought Mike’s Citabria. It happens to be a tailwheel plane, which I didn’t know how to fly at the time. So I started taking tailwheel lessons in my own plane. After about 25 hours of mostly takeoffs and landings over a month or so, I was finally signed off for the tailwheel. Using a stick felt weird at first, but very soon became very intuitive for me. A stick gives more precise control, which is why fighter jets all have control sticks instead of yokes.

I’m thoroughly enjoying my new “taildragger” and fly it every chance I get. I’ve flown it several times now to Fresno to visit my mother; to Pine Mountain Lake to visit Eric and Nealy; to Cloverdale to visit Kenny, Ellen, Scott and Sarah; and to various other places just because they’re there, like Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo, Harris Ranch, Half Moon Bay, Napa, Red Bluff, and even Orland International to visit Sy and Melissa.

With urging from Leslie, I’ve decided to give my plane a name. In pilot-speak, my tail# N8571V is pronounced “November-8-5-7-1-Victor.” So now I call him Victor.

But once again I’m feeling the need to stretch my wings. Fortunately, I have an opportunity to fly myself to Salt Lake City in June to attend the Rotary International Convention. Stay tuned!

Happy flying!

Sky King

The Flying Bug

During high school and college I wanted to learn to fly so badly I could taste it. But being as poor as a church mouse I saw no way of ever getting enough money together to make it happen. So I eventually forgot about flying and got on with my life.

Over the years I was able to take fairly short flights with pilot friends on various occasions. It was always exciting for me, no matter where we went or how long we were gone. Around 10 years ago, after our son Eric had learned to fly, he took his mom and me flying as a Christmas present to us. I loved it! I didn’t want the flight to ever end. But I still wasn’t quite ready, financially that is.

During Christmas 2002 Leslie and I were visiting Stephanie and her family in Alabama. Steph’s husband Rich took me for a short flight in a Cessna 150. We were no sooner leveled off when he had me take the yoke and steer the plane. That’s all it took. I was hooked. I thought to myself that maybe it was no longer out of reach financially to be able to fly. I allowed myself the privilege to think it was feasible. By the time that short flight was over, I had made up my mind that I would learn to fly!

The day after returning home from Alabama I walked into the Santa Cruz Flying Club at the Watsonville Airport to sign up for flying lessons. A young woman standing there said, “Hi, I’m Amber. I’m an instructor. Would you like to take an introductory flight to see how you like it?”

I said, “No. I want to learn to fly.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to start with an introductory lesson,” she said. “It’s just a short 30-minute flight to see how you like it.”

Somewhat more forcefully I said, “I already like it. I want to learn to fly! When can we start lessons?”

She finally realized how serious I was and gave me my first lesson on January 3, 2003 in a Cessna 150. After the first lesson I said, “Let’s move up to the Cessna 172. The 150’s too small and uncomfortable for (big old fat) me. I soloed on Valentine’s Day 2003. I passed my checkride for my Private License in July 2003.

In September 2003 I joined a small group of 10 called Beach Barons, Inc. who bought a Cherokee 140 to put it online (for rent) with the Santa Cruz Flying Club. I switched to flying the Cherokee and loved it. It was my first experience with a low wing aircraft and I like the way it handled. As a new pilot, I liked that the Cherokee is a very forgiving plane. I flew as much as I could, roughly 10 hours a month. I received my Instrument rating in the Cherokee in August 2005.

During 2005 the Beach Barons group decided to purchase another plane, a Cessna 150, to put online at the club as a rental. We found a plane that we wanted, but it was in Pocatello, Idaho. In October 2005 I flew on my first long cross country flight to Pocatello in the Cherokee with another Beach Barons owner, Dan Dawson. It took us two days to fly there and two days to fly back, with a day in between to check out the plane before we bought it. Dan flew the Cessna 150 back and I flew the Cherokee. Before the trip I wanted to spread my wings and do more than just a one or two hour flight. Would a long flight be harder? Would it be more or less fun? All I knew was I had to find out. When this opportunity came up, I jumped at it! I don’t know what I would have done if more than two of us wanted to go. Anyway, it was a great experience that I thoroughly enjoyed. It turned out not being any harder or easier. But it sure was a lot of fun! A long cross country is just a bunch of short flights strung together. You end up stopping every two hours or so for fuel and a potty break, and maybe a meal. I’ve been yearning for another long flight ever since.

I want to give a special thanks to Eric and Rich for getting me hooked. They have both been very supportive mentors during this new period in my life. It has been great to be able to tell them about my latest flying adventure, or seek their counsel on occasion. I also want to thank Leslie for allowing me to chase this passion. She doesn’t enjoy flying as much as I do (at all), but she knows what it means to me and allows me to fully enjoy my passion.

And somewhere along the line I picked up the nickname Sky King, after the 1960’s TV character.

Sky King