So with nearly 3000 miles of flying behind me in the past week, great views of the entire continent from coast to coast, time well spent with friends and family reality has to come back at some point. I've got to point the nose of my little plane east and get to work somehow on Monday. All week long the forecasts show that I'll have an opportunity to get all the way home in one day from Salt Lake on Friday. I'd love to stay an extra day in Salt Lake and get another day of snowbording in but with the risk of not making it work on Monday I quit while I'm ahead and plan an early morning departure Friday.
The night before I call and get the SL Jet center folks to put my plane in a heated hangar to keep the frost off. That in and of itself was a pretty big effort. They call back and say they don't have any equipment to move my plane to a hangar. I tell the guy that it only weights 1000 lbs and can easily be pushed by one person from the tail. The guy on the other end of the phone was completely shocked to hear that you can move a plane without machinery. So anyway armed with this new earth shattering information he tells me that they will get it done and I need not worry.
From the top of the Canyons ski resort you can look West into the Salt Lake Valley and the visibility was getting worse. Which is exactly what you expect when there is a source of moisture(The Great Salt Lake) and nothing to displace the stagnant air like a really strong, windy cold front. So I pretty much expected the departure from Salt Lake to be tough but after that it would be a milk run. Before I go to bed the night before I get and outlook brief and they tell me basically what I expected: fog early at Salt Lake International(SLC) clearing later on. My problem is that I really need to get going early if I want to have any chance of getting home at a reasonable hour. I wake up a few times over night and call the automated weather system at SLC and the news is horrible. Horizontal visibility of 1/8 mile and ceiling(height of the clouds) of 100 feet. In layman's terms really bad weather; so bad that many transport jets would have trouble getting air.
This kind of weather isn't a complete nonstarter if you don't have any intentions to return to your departure point. But if you have problems right after take off then your attitude toward returning may change. So a take off in weather that you can't land in represents higher risks than good weather take offs. Legally you have to be instrument rated and current meaning you must be able to proficiently control and navigate your craft without reference to anything visual outside of the plane. Not having these skills and flying in bad weather kills many people.
Well it's 5:30 AM, the weather at SLC is crap and Mike is taking me to the airport. Right now it's dark but you can see wisps of fog blowing about in a light breeze. We get some breakfast and head over to SL Jet Center as promised the plane is in a hangar. They let us drive Mikes car on to the airport and it takes a while to load the plane. After giving Mike a ride on Wednesday I have to pull the rear seat and control stick out and so my snowboard will fit in my microscopic plane. My plane always feels small but when you're at a field that had planes that carry hundreds of people you feel especially small. After the plane is loaded I head back the the office at the Jet Cetner and commence checking weather. Time it ticking away. The sun already came up at 7:45 AM, which is 9:45 AM east coast time and I've got 10 hrs of flying ahead of me not including down time. The weather guy that answers the phone tells me the bad news I already know and then tells me that he really can't possibly tell me all the significant information for my planned flight. My plan is to fly to McCook Nebraska and then some place east of there that will get me with in striking distance of home. The guy briefing me is completely frazzled at the idea of the the bad things he needs to tell me about on a 2000 mile flight like I'm proposing. I tell him to just give me the info on weather and I'll take responsibility for the rest. This is huge assumption of risk but it appears to be the only way this guy will work with me and I've already checked other sources on the internet for this kind of info... I basically reach the conclusion that if I want to leave SLC anytime soon that I will have to contend with the weather and not depart visually like I've been able to do on every other part of this trip.
To do this the rules are very different. The Visual rules allow for lots of flexibility since you can see and avoid other airplanes but since I'm proposing to depart in weather that will not allow me to see other planes I have to rely on the FAA to provide that service. This is what the FAA is all about and in short to do this you have to file a flight plan and call air traffic controllers before you depart and get a clearance all the way to your destination. This is a massive oversimplification but it'll have to do. The clearance contains instructions on exactly how you are going to get where you want to go and if you lose contact with ATC then you follow those instructions. They will follow your progress on radar and clear traffic away from you.
Even though the weather on the ground at SLC is crap there is a note in the weather observations for SLC saying "tower visibility 4 miles" This little note is my saving grace that will allow me to get to work on Monday. What they are saying is that yes there is ground fog but our buddies up in the tower can see reasonably well. The game plan is to take off on a clearance to some place east of SLC, and after I get above the fog cancel the flight plan and head to McCook Nebraska for cheap fuel. The bogus destination that i file fore is Rock Springs, Wyoming. I had never heard of the place but thats where I file to. I hang up and now My quest is to find some charts for this trip, The charts you use for flying in the clouds are very different than the ones I have. I really wanted to make the trip visually the whole way so I could see things but I have to I purchase the other charts. Lots of guys are changing to electronic charts and so I end up running all over the place trying to get the right charts to make the trip. I get them. Say my goodbyes to Mike and head for the plane...
Departure from an airport as busy as SLC takes a while especially when I'm proposing to fly in the clouds. I don't even start the engine before calling the controllers, it takes them a good 15 minutes to get to me. After getting a clearance I start the engine and have to wait another 15 minutes to get released for departure. 11:00 am as I remember was the approximate departure time.
After blasting through the very thin layer of fog I am commanded by the controller to "expedite my climb through 14,000 feet." My response is something like Scottie from Star Trek: "I'm givin' all I got kiptan but she kan't take much more!"
I canceled the IFR flight plan as soon as I was above the fog which was about 30 seconds after takeoff.
Now I'm back in my element, captain of my craft, master of my domain and happy.
I climb to 12,500 and head east of over the mountains. Every inch of Colorado passes under me, then half of Nebraska.
While crossing the mountains I get flight following from the controllers. First guys asks"N845WJ, Are you familiar with the terrain on you route of flight?" I acknowledge that I am. 5 minutes later he says "N84WJ, the minimum en route altitude in your area is 14,000 feet". Now this guys is trying to tell me that he is uncomfortable with me flying at 12,500 in my present position suggesting that a mountain is going to sneak up and slam into me. I can see 200 miles in every direction and the terrain is always 2000 feet below me. If I smack into a mountain it's my own damn fault. To put it even more bluntly, I have the where with all to get a pilot license, log 1000 hrs of flight time without any incidents, build my own plane, fly it California and back. If I run into a mountain in this pristine weather I deserve it. I want to say all of this but don't I just say "roger" and leave it at that. A few minutes later i climb to 14,500 and put on the oxygen rig for first time of the trip. The tail wind I get a 14,500 isn't much better than 12,500 and the Oxygen rig isn't very comfortable. ugh. Whatever. I stay at 14, 500 well past the mountain range, across the flat part of Colorado until it's time to descend and land at McCook, Nebraska.
There doesn't seem to be any body home at McCook but then I see a woman waving me in to park. I stop shutdown and by time I'm out of the plane the fuel truck has pulled up and is fueling me. I hand my credit card to the woman who parked me, head into the bathroom and by the time I'm out the woman has my credit card slip ready to sign. Damn good service and exactly what I need if I want to get home at a reasonable hour.
I call my next destination, Mosby Field in Cuba, MO, West of St. Louis and verify that they will have fuel when I get there in three hours about 5 pm local. He says that he will stay and that they've got a nasty crosswind. Good and Bad. Cheap fuel and bent airplane. I've landed this plane in some heavy crosswinds before and you better be awake but its not a problem. I assure him I'll be there by 5 and depart. The Trip is totally uneventful. I've got nice tailwinds that are getting stronger as move east, 210 knots across the ground isn't unusual now, damn near 50 knots help from the elements and fast enough to leave a indy car in the dust.
I land in the crosswind and it's not horrible but a challenge none the less. The nice guy at the airport asks how the landing was and I tell him it was cake. He responds "nothin' to it". he must of said "nothin' to it" about a dozen times.
I fuel up, and head for DC about 6 PM East coast time. Can't believe I woke up in Salt Lake and and going to go to bed in DC. The Sun goes down shortly after I depart and the air is smooth as glass. I pick up flight following and watch the plane take me home. As I get closer to DC I start to see places on the map that are more familiar and finally I'm talking to Potomac Tracon. These are the guys who will let me pass in the dreaded Air Defense Identification Zone, (ADIZ) and Flight Restricted Zone the surrounds the Capital. I have to wander around some airspace to get to my home airport. Pretty soon I'm down at 1400 feet running parallel with traffic in landing at national airport. Big jets all land at about the same speed range 115-150 knots, I'm scooting along at 160 knots and so I'm keeping pace with these big jet landing over top of me. The controllers are pointing me out to the big boys and one controller tells a USAir jet: "you have traffic in XXX direction, a homebuilt experimental that that guy probably built in his garage, he's head up to his little airport".
Racing the big boys was a pretty cool way to end the trip. I land, don't bother fueling, push in the hangar, drop the oil out because its due for a change and head home. Man and I tired and wired all at the same time. It has been one heck of a trip. Thanks for reading about it.
Bill
