·:[ Darryl's Coot Building Journal ]:·
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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 forecasted 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 has 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.