·:[ Darryl’s Coot Building Journal ]:·
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The final leg of my trip was from St. Maries Municipal Airport in St. Maries, Iowa to Harvey Field (S43) in Snohomish, WA. This one-leg trip was, perhaps, the easiest of all.

I departed at 9:18 on a stunningly beautiful Saturday morning. After opening my flight plan, I contacted Spokane approach to get flight following (and permission to clip the edge of the Class C airspace). As it happened, I never received a traffic advisory on what I assumed would be a very busy (weekend) day.

The forecast was for calm winds aloft, which allowed me to fly the entire distance without stopping for fuel. In fact, I maintained 120 knots at 6,500′ across east and central Washington.

Just before I hit the Cascade mountains, I canceled flight following and climbed to 8,500′. Stevens pass was a piece of cake. When Kathy and I flew via Stevens Pass last May, we were at 5,500′ to 6,500′ the entire way. The lower altitude offers a way more breathtaking experience.

I rolled to a stop at Harvey field at 11:45, after 34.9 hours for the round trip (and excluding the few trips I made around the Madison area).

While at Harvey, I use MoGas that I haul in myself, whenever possible, so I did not measure the quantity of fuel used on this last leg. For the rest of the trip (again, excluding playing in the Madison area), I used 193 gallons of fuel for 34.2 hours of travel. That gives a fuel burn of 5.96 gph on average. The maximum fuel use was 7.05 gph on the very first leg of the trip (at 1000′ to 1500′ AGL with no leaning, and through some rain), and the minimum was 5.41 gph on the first day of the return trip flying at 4,500′ between Mankato Regional Airport (MKT) in Mankato, MN and Aberdeen Regional airport (ABR) in Aberdeen, SD

My gas millage should fall somewhere between the values by road (via Google maps) and the great circle distance. By the former, I got 18.5 mpg and traveled at, on average, 110 mph. By the latter, I got 13.3 mpg and traveled at 79 mph.

Of course, on the first day of my trip, I was forced to fly south to Portland and then diagonally across Washington state to St. Maries, ID, adding about 320 road miles to the trip. If we account for that little diversion, I got 20 mpg at an average of 120 mph. But this isn’t really fair, because I wouldn’t have had to make that diversion in my car!

In all…what a spectacular experience!

(Note: I wrote some of this en route on the evening of June 27, but I was too tired to finish it. Sorry about the delay…I hope nobody thought I was splattered against the side of a mountain for two thirds of July).

In a nutshell…day 2 was tough.

I began the morning with a low-level headache and lousy coffee. Instead of an early start, I showed up at the Hettinger airport (HEI), North Dakota at 9:15 CDT and preped the plane. The weather was looking good to my final destination at St. Maries, ID. I departed at 9:45 for Frank Wiley Airport (MLS) in Miles City, Montana. The first thing I noticed was the lousy ground speed–78 mph at 4,500 feet. At 6,500 feet I sometimes hit 85 mph. Fortunately, I had planned short legs, expecting something of a head wind.

The ride to MLS was long and bumpy, with gusty winds greeting me at the landing. I landed at 11:47. For such a large airport (two 5,600′ runways), MLS seemed rather lonely and desolate. I was off again at 12:20 on the way to Big Timber (6S0)

This trip was uneventful over relatively tame terrain. I arrived at around 2:20 pm, and after something of a carrier landing (the fiberglass main landing gears of the Yankee are remarkable!), taxied to the FBO for fuel. The FBO person was very friendly and sent me off with a bottle of cold water. It was getting very hot out.

Leg 3 was from Big Timber to Deer Lodge Airport (38S) in Deer Lodge, Montana. I had called earlier in the day to verify fuel was available and learned that the airport was unattended, but that there was a self-service fuel vending machine.

This leg proved to be the most challenging. It was hot out and I was flying through the Rocky Mountains, following I-90. Also, the wind had picked up to 20 knots with gusts, raising the possibility of hitting down drafts while crossing passes. Finally, there were density altitude warnings being offered on the navaids because it was hot outside. (I was pretty comfortable in the plane, however.)

I departed at 3:07, immediately noticing the decreased performance of the plane departing from an airport at 4,500′ with a density altitude of more like 7,500′. In a few minutes I passed Mission (LVM) and the mountain fun began.

The plane was struggling to climb. I wanted as much altitude as possible crossing Bozeman pass, which is at 5700′, but I was having trouble getting over 7,500′. The thermals helped. I stuck to the north side of the valley which was bathed in sunlight and creating some pockets of updrafts. I pulled the nose up to gain altitude and fly more slowly through thermals, and pointed the nose level to fly more quickly through the down drafts. That was enough to get me up to nearly 8,000′ as I approached the pass. And good thing, too. I lost nearly 1,000 feet traversing the pass under full power. I popped over the pass at 6,700′ with the Bozeman Class D airspace in my face. The ceiling of that airspace is 7,000′ feet (the airport [BZN] is at 4,500 feet).

I planned to overflying the Class D airspace at 8,000′ or so, now I found myself scrambling to get the ATIS and call the tower for permission to fly through the airspace. In fact, I was at 7,300 feet as I hit the edge of the controlled airspace, so it wasn’t strictly necessary, but it never hurts to talk to folks.

Bozeman is the start of a big, relatively flat, 50 mile valley. I began early gaining altitude for the upcoming mountians, but found that the Yankee would only climb to about 8,300′ using a little less than full throttle and aggressive leaning. Just past Whitehall, things got topographically more interesting and I was able to use thermals to climb to 9,000′, which was plenty of altitude over the pass just East of Butte.

Thirty minutes later I was in the pattern at Deer Lodge. The wind had died down somewhat but it was still gusty, and the approach end of runway 30 is on something of drop-off, so I used a fast and steep approach to avoid problems with gusts and down drafts. I landed at 4:50 pm, weary of being knocked around. One more leg to go.

While refueling, the airport manager, who I had spoken to earlier, drove to the airport to greet me. He was hinting that Deer Lodge would be a good place to stop for the day—and he almost convinced me!

At 5:36, I was running up the engine for departure on leg 4 to St. Maries, Idaho (S72). It was hot and gusty at 4,700′ feet of elevation, but I had a 5,800′ runway in front of me. And I needed every foot of it. The Yankee climbed very slowly—so slowly that I immediately rejected a straight-out departure and flew a complete pattern. I think I had 800′ of elevation when I flew over my departure spot. That was enough, though, and I again worked hard to gain altitude, although the ground elevation along I-90 was decreasing after Deer Lodge (actually, everything after Butte).

I flew over Missoula at 6:30, without any difficulties staying above the 5,700 foot ceiling of the Missoula Class D airspace. My ground speed was 94 MPH, meaning the headwinds were not so strong, and I wasn’t being bounced around too much. The last real pass is called Mullen Pass at 5,200′. It was a piece of cake! In fact, this part of the trip, which I anticipated would be the most difficult, was pretty easy. My ground speed picked up a little more as I headed west.

I landed with a smile on my face at St. Maries at about 7:50. I filled up with $4.65/gallon aviation fuel. The only hitch in St. Maries is that there were no rooms at the two motels. But I found a room in a wonderful old Victorian-style B&B.

I began my return journey from Blackhawk Airfield (8Y7) near Madison, Wisconsin, to Harvey Field (S43) near Seattle, WA. Last night (Wednesday) the weather was looking iffy. There was an area of scattered thunderstorms forecast along my route. Everything looked doable into central Minnesota. I flight-planned a hop to Mankato Regional Airport (MKT) and then one route straight west [MKT–>Aberdeen, SD (ABR)–>Bowman, ND (BPP)] and an alternative route to the north [MKT–>Wheaton, MN, Municipal (KETH)–> Bismarck Municipal (Y19)–> Frank Wiley Field in
Miles City, MT (MLS)].

The first stop was for fuel at Morey (C29). I departed Blackhawk at 6:52 CDT, with my mother and step father waiving from the sidelines, and landed at Morey some 30 minutes later (I skirted under the MSN Class-C airspace). I was off the ground at Morey at 7:36.

As forecast, the weather to Mankato was perfect. I landed at 9:54 CDT and tied the plane down so I could do some additional flight planning. As it happened, the westward route looked a little better than the northwest route. I had had a tailwind heading out of Wisconsin and the winds aloft looked like more of the same through Montana. I departed MKT at 11:10 CDT for the leg to ABR. Things got a little bumpy along the route at 4,500′, but not unmanageably so.

Touchdown at ABR was 1:20 pm CDT. I spun the plane around in the middle of the 7,000′ runway and announced my back-taxi as if I knew what I was doing (well…I really did, this time). When the kid working the line asked me what kind of fuel I needed, I said, “Mogas, please.” To my surprise, he pointed to a fixed tank down at the end of FBO row. Cool! Why hadn’t I asked for mogas the first time I was here?

Aberdeen was hot at 1:56 pm CDT, departure time. And I expected plenty of light chop on the way to Bowman, ND. But, there was a light cloud cover to the west of ABR and the flight was silky smooth at 4,500′. About 40 miles out from Bowman, ND, the distinct fuzz of heavy rain was visible right where I wanted to go. Not only that, but I was watching the cell grow before my eyes. My alternate was Hettinger, ND, Municipal Airport (HEI), a “little” (4,800′ strip) that supposedly had fuel.

I flew by HEI with an estimated 70 minutes of fuel on board…I flew an extra 15 miles toward the cell just to be sure it really was where I though it was. It was. Not only that, I could see lightening strikes to the ground. I pulled a 180 degree turn, and headed for HEI.

I was met by a guy who does double duty of harvesting and attending to airplanes. He helped me get started with the fueling. I though I’d simply wait for the cell to move to the north—perhaps for an hour or so—and continue on to MLS for the night. I pulled out the laptop and started checking the weather while sitting on the ramp. After about 20 minutes, a second cell sprouted to the south. It grew very fast. There was daylight between the original cell and the new cell, but given how fast the second cell popped up, I was not about to try flying between them.

Another friendly airport guy walked up to me and said, “That storm is going to pass right over us in 10 minutes. You have three choices: fly between them, fly about 80 miles to the south to get around ‘em, or we can put your plane in the hanger for the night.” It turns out they had a car I could use, so I did a quick internet search for motels in Hettinger, ND, called, and learned that there was a room.

Five minutes later I was taxing into a hangar as the rain let loose. Apparently there was some hail at the motel, too. So, that’s where the tale ends for tonight. I am told the best steak house in the area is right around the corner from the motel.

I’ve been very busy the last week, and didn’t have time for any updates…I’ll fill in the details today.

On Friday, June 20th, I got a ride to Morey field (C29, in Middleton, on the far West side of Madison) so that I could transport the plane to Blackhawk field (87Y, in Cottage Grove on the far East side of Madison).

Blackhawk is very close to my Mother’s house, but there is no fuel available there. It turns out that the long runway (04-22, 2,814′ x 57′) is somewhat rough and is obstructed by trees. I landed on 04 and immediately wished I had not–the landing beat the shit out of my plane. The other runway (06-27) is 2,203′ x 56′ and is well groomed and unobstructed. The runway is plenty long for landing, and with a 500′ of displaced threshold in addition to the 2,203′ of landing space, was ample for departure as well.

Saturday, June 21st, I departed Blackhawk for the Coot fly-in at Sauk Prairie airport (91C). The landing at Sauk Prairie was challenging because there was a hefty cross-wind. There were eight or nine of us who showed up at Richard Steeves hangar for the meeting. Even though I flew in from Seattle, I was not the most distant traveler—Andy Adams showed up from California.

Unfortunately, Richard’s Coot was having mixture issues that kept him from flying (much). Instead, we piled into cars and headed to a Cafe in town for lunch and chat. The winds were stronger and gustier for my departure. As I rolled out, I noticed Andy Adams crouched on the edge of the runway with a video camera pointing at me. The return to Blackhawk was uneventful—only a modestly strong cross-wind landing. What I didn’t notice until the roll-out is that there were a couple of deer nibbling on trees off the distal right side of the runway. I stopped well short of them.

I tied down the plane for the week.

Day three brings me to my home town of Madison—my planned destination. It was a beautiful day for flying. Along much of the route I could see evidence of cumulus build-up to the north and to the south, but it was all very far away.

I got a late start today simply because I was tired and didn’t feel 100%. Oh…and I was still on Pacific time. The flight planning went excruciatingly slowly, considering I was planing on flying three point-to-point legs along a great-circle route. The stars aligned (wait…I mean, the airports aligned) and I found three legs with almost equal spacing (214 nm, 205 nm, and 216 nm).

I departed for the first of three legs at 10:00 am (that would be in PDT) from Bowman field (BPP) in North Dakota. Today’s journey was over mostly flat lands. It was a good day for exercising basic cross-country flying skills.

First stop was in Aberdeen, South Dakota (ABR). I arrived at 12:20 (again PDT). The only thing eventful about this was the construction that closed down taxiways and isolated the FBO row. I had to back-taxi about half-way down the 6,900′ runway. The maintenance people were taking the lead in helping out us timid transients. While I was running-up for departure, it was deja vu all over again when I heard a Cessna pilot ask “Maintenance, I understand I need to back-taxi runway 13 to get to the FBOs?” Except this pilot verbalized my stifled initial reaction, “Can I do that?!?” Yep…even the regional jets had to back-taxi and pull a 180 in order to depart 13.

Leg two was from ABR to Mankato, Minnesota (MKT). I departed at 1:00 pm. Aside from one evasive maneuver to dodge a flock of water fowl of some sort doing maneuvers at 5,500 feet (!!), the leg was uneventful. I arrived at 3:00 pm. The FBO people there were very friendly. The airport was a little difficult to navigate around because there was, apparently, some paving done and the markings for runways and taxiways had not been painted on. It was a great help to zoom in on the airport on the GPS.

The last leg was from Mankato to Morey Field in Middleton (C29). I departed at 4:00 (PDT or 6:00 CDT) knowing that I would have only an hour of daylight left on my arrival. I crossed the Mississippi at 5:13. The big river was awesome…even from 5,500′. The topography of south western Wisconsin was a refreshing break from the monotony to the West.

I though I would recognize Morey field. Some years ago, Richard Steeves took me flying in his Coot out of Morey field. But, the place has had a big upgrade. No more tie-downs in a grass field. I parked the plane at 6:00 pm PDT, which was 8:00 pm local time.

I’ll write more later…now I must sleep.

The day got off to a rocky start from St. Maries, ID airport. The weather was fine…but a minor mechanical problem with the plane postponed the early-morning mission. I finally lifted-off at 10:28 and flew through the Rockies for the first time.

I climbed to 7,500 feet and followed the Interstate, taking shortcuts whenever it felt safe and comfy. Only once did I turn away from a ridge and fly along the road, after getting knocked around a bit.

Some time around noon I landed at Mooney field in Butte, MT (BTM). The FBO had a lineman waiting for me. He was gesticulating in my direction, which I thought was curious. Then I realized that he was giving me hand signals. Yikes…I haven’t even seen a flagman since my solo cross-country in 1999. Ok…I managed to get through that without chewing up the flagman or clipping the wings of the plane next to me.

The FBO owner was extremely friendly and talkative. He had trained in an AA1-B and clearly enjoyed the experience. By the time I got to the office, he had current weather maps up on the computer and was discussing alternatives for the scattered thundershowers. While we were talking a CTAF call came in from an F16 pilot expressing his desire to do a low pass over the runway. The FBO guy tried his best to talk him down for a cup of coffee, but instead we got two beautiful fly-overs. And the F16 disappeared very quickly. The FBO had emptied for the show and, clearly, it made everyone’s day.

Thank god(s) for 9001 foot runways. My climb-out was anemic from a 5550′ field on a high density-altitude day. I flew a full pattern just to get high enough to clear a line of hills to the east of the airport.

The next stop was Laurel, Montana (6S8), which is just on the edge of the outer ring of the the Billings Class C airspace. I ducked under the 4,900′ floor, but the 4,500′ pattern altitude made me nervous. The folks there were friendly as could be. And the fuel was $4.79/gallon. (I don’t think I mention this, but at St. Maries, ID, the fuel was $4.65/gallon.) I sat in their lounge playing weather junkie, doing flight planning, and figuring out where I would spend the night.

At 4:40, I departed Laurel for Bowman, N.D. (BPP), flying a rather direct route that was uncomfortably low on aerodromes. The flight went as planned in every respect, but at some point it occurred to me that I must have miscalculated fuel. I redid the calculations again, but failed to convince myself. Again I calculated and decided that I probably wasn’t going to die. I guess this is something akin to the “auto-rough” that land plane pilots apparently experience when flying over large bodies of water.

I arrived at Bowman two hours and thirty minutes later, with the sun low in the sky…and about 2 degrees to the left of the centerline. In retrospect, I should have either (1) landed with the wind (it was light) or (2) treated the landing something like a glassy-water landing. I rounded out too high, which I didn’t know until I got that sinking feeling. No, really…I was literally sinking for too long. And the plane settled on the runway harder than is considered ideal. I was embarrassed, but I suspect nobody even saw the landing.

Folks at Bowman were incredible, including someone coming from home to fuel me up (they are heading out on a trip tomorrow), a follow-up call from the airport contact person, and use of a courtesy car for the evening.

How much fuel was left at Bowman? We added 15.7 gallons, which means I had 6.3 usable gallons left in the tanks. At 5,500 feet, that’s well over an hour of reserve.

I’m dead tired now, so it’s off to bed.

There is a Coot builder’s meeting in Wisconsin on Saturday, and I intend to be there. (That sentence makes the forthcoming travel-log completely on topic for a Coot-building journal).

I am traveling to Wisconsin this week in my American Aviation AA-1 Yankee. This is my first serious attempt at piloting a plane across the country.

Monday was a mad scramble to complete employment-related things, finish some trip planning, and getting the plane prepared. I had the local shop at Harvey Field change the oil for me. The weather was spectacular and the Monday morning forecast was favoring an early morning Tuesday departure.

By Monday afternoon things took an uncoordinated turn for the worst. I was feeling a touch flu-like and experiencing some gastro-intestinal “issues.” I ate almost nothing all day. The late afternoon forecast had low ceiling just to the south of Seattle on Tuesday morning and getting worse through the day. I got up at an ungodly hour to find the whole region socked in.

The problem for us Seattle folks is that we have this Cascade mountain range that largely cuts us off from the rest of the world. When the clouds roll in (and they frequently do) the mountains become prison walls for the would-be aeronautical traveler to the east (and not just air travelers…the mountian passes are frequently closed to traffic during the winter). No Cascade mountain passes for me today.

The weather suggested and alternative: there was marginal VFR to Portland and up the Columbia River gorge, and to The Dalles, with some foretasted improvement. (Of course the skies were blue as can be on the East side of the Cascades.) There are plenty of airports along a Seattle–>Portland–>East along the Columbia River route. And the route and lots and lots of air traffic controllers (Seattle Class B, Portland Class C, numerous Class D airfields), so…I decided to give it a try.

Clouds were down to 2,500′ feet most of the way to Portland. I dodged under the eastern portion of the Seattle Class B airspace, past Crest field, Pierce County, arched around to Longview and gradually turned east, through the Portland Class C, and up the river. There were scattered showers along the entire route from Seattle to Portland, but they started getting in my way around Longview. The ceiling seemed to be dropping, as well. But, about the time I called Portland approach, the ceiling lifted to 4,000′ plus. I was flying at 3,000 feet when I called Portland approach. As I flew up the Columbia, the clouds melted away to splendid sunshine.

The gorge is spectacular (if a bit bouncy). I got some photos, which I may post later. The landing at The Dalles for refueling was interesting. The ASOS reported winds at 25 knots gusting to 35 knots. Fortunately, the winds were right smack down the center of runway 30—at least on the ground they were. I had to hold a huge crab on downwind, which made me think I might discover wind sheer somewhere between 1000′ agl and 0′ agl. My Yankee has an approach speed of 85 mph, which feels really fast at a small airport like Harvey. I approached with an extra “half the gust factor,” and I still felt like I was landing in slow motion. I didn’t find an abrupt wind layer, just a lot of bouncing left and right on the way down.

A lineman refueled my plane and I headed out pretty quickly. I turned northeast, past Richland, and toward the southern end of Lake Coeur d’ Alene, to St. Maries airport.

I had called the airport owner and manager numbers earlier and found everyone wonderfully helpful in that seemingly forgotten, small-town, America kind of way. They had courtesy cars, self-help fuel and nearby motels. What struck me about the landing is how beautiful and serene this little town looked, nestled in a crook in the foothills.

[3 hrs] Today I drilled and cut material off of the engine pylon front support piece (814-3).

Damage to the original piece can be seen on the bottom right of this photo. I made the top hole (on the right) slightly smaller to keep a bit more structure in the area.

Notice that the outer perimeter of the second hole from the right looks different? I had to clean up some scratches that resulted when one blade on the double-bladed fly cutter came lose and moved out on the shaft. Doh!

Here is a view of the underside…

[1.5 hrs] After months and months of Coot building inactivity, I finally actually drilled, sawed, and filed today.

The part is the 814-8 pylon doubler. This piece attaches to station 96, and doubles the forward vertical pylon support. The piece that I have from the partial project I purchased is not airworthy—it has a fracture owning to (1) the plane rolling in a road accident (while being trailered) and (2) lack of a stress relief hole at a critical point. You can see the fracture in the large image (click on the photo).

Here is a view from the back-side.

Oh…my new part really is relatively symmetrical. The photo is deceiving because the camera is centered between the old and new parts.

I just upgraded the blog to WordPress 2.5, so drop me a line if anything seems broken.

While you are waiting for another construction-related post, here is a youtube video of me flying my AA-1 Yankee last summer:

Bending the 1/8″ 2024-T3 aluminum pieces for the engine pylon can be a challenge. Your average Harbor Freight sheet metal brake just isn’t up to the task. I needed a new 814-3 piece and the 814-8 smaller piece as well.

Last July, Russ Milham mentioned to me that Andy Anderson could get them bent at a reasonable price. Indeed, at the Arlington air show last July, Andy seemed happy to do so. I purchased the sheet at Wicks at Arlington (and, as of a month ago, no longer at Arlington), and sent Andy on his way home, thinking I would see him again in July 2008.

Andy was passing through town this week, so he brought the pylon piece and spent the night at our house. Andy also snapped a photo of the bending process for the -8 piece:

Bob Leonard did this work is at his company, Trilet Industries, in Oregon City, OR.

Here are the results:

Note that the longer -3 piece must be bent at greater than 90 degrees to account for the taper of the pylon (front to rear). The -8 piece must fit on the inside of the -3 piece.

The bends were perfect. The -3 piece fits snuggly in the rest of the pylon.

Some months ago I linked to a Youtube video of an RC Coot in China. Here is another video, but this time from Vienna:

Here is another video—apparently the official factory video:

If you are interested in purchasing one of these, Park Flyers has ‘em for under $200! They also provide a mini-review of the model.

Finally, here is the manual.