(Warning, run on sentence coming up) We had included in our list of places to go during the summer, all dramas which we could reach in our magic carpet. Going to Amarillo to see "Texas" was one of them. Another was "The Trail of Tears" put on in an outdoor amphitheater at the Cherokee Heritage Center in Tahlequah, Oklahoma. I had been to the Cherokee Heritage Center twice before, about 25 years ago with my first wife and our children and 15 years ago with Sandra. Sandra had been again about 7 years ago with some friends. As a consequence, the Center itself was not a big draw, just the play.
Doing my research, I found the Murrell House as a potential attraction just 2 miles from the Center. In keeping with our desire to avoid weekend performances, we would fly to Tahlequah on Friday morning. We would then eat lunch and tour the Murrell site. Time permitting, we would swing by the Center and see what was new before going to the motel to clean up and return for the performance.
One of the lessons learned from Amarillo was that Texas heat was not conducive to airplane trips in the summer. Many pilots simply go nowhere in July and August. Our planes are not air conditioned and it does get warm inside with the sun beaming in the greenhouse. At Amarillo, it was not a problem. We arrived on Monday Afternoon and went to the play on Tuesday. That was planned as we didn't want a rush to get from the airport to the play if we were delayed enroute. As it was, we could have made it, but I would have probably been too tired to really enjoy it. And Palo Duro was not a place either of us had seen before.
In this case, it should be a 2 hour flight, and I shouldn't be too worn out. The problem was that the weather forecast started the week with the Friday forecast for 96 and went up from there. I made the motel reservations and ticket reservations on Wednesday. The FBO said that we could use the courtesy car overnight with no problem. We broke 100 on Thursday in Dallas.
Friday morning, the weather briefing was good and we should have a tailwind. When we left the house at 7:45, the temperature was over 80 already and the humidity was almost that high. At the hangar, we find that the planes have all been moved around and the Mouse is cowering against the back wall. We move 3 other planes and get ours part way out. We move one them back and get a little farther. Move the other two again and we are out! By this time, We are both hot and I am dripping with sweat.
We launch at 8:30. OAT (Outside air temp gauge) says 85, but the air coming in the vents stops my sweating by the time we get to Sherman. The density altitude is still less than 2500', so I fill the bird to 45 gallons and we launch for Tahlequah at 9:20 with the flight plan calling for 1:35 flying time.
A word now about flight time. The time is calculated as the distance divided by the cruising speed as adjusted for the wind. As calculated flight time usually represents the time required to fly the given distance presuming you start the clock as you fly over the start point at cruising speed and altitude and stop it when you fly over the destination still at altitude and speed. The truly anal retentive pilots will figure time to altitude and pattern time, but these are only guesstimates. The reality is that you take off, maneuver as necessary to leave the pattern and establish climb. These all add time. Descent doesn't subtract time (much) as you descend at about cruise speed. Pattern entry and landing add more time.
We plan on a 100knot cruise and using the Aviation computer (normally referred to as the E6B) adjust for wind. I then add 5 minutes and round up to the next 5 minute increment. If we file a flight plan, this is close enough. If we get way behind, we can update the flight plan in the air.
Back to flying. We get to 5500 just before we cross Eaker field in Durant (26 miles across the ground). The OAT at this altitude is 70. Much better! The sun on us is still warm, but the air is smooth and the visibility is good. The route roughly parallels US75, US75-69, US69 as far as I40. Looking down, I am passing vehicles below us like gangbusters. We are supposed to have a slight tailwind, but this is more than slight.
After passing McAlester, the scenery begins to get really interesting. The Ozarks beginning to rise from the haze to the east. Lake Eufaula below us for 35 miles and stretching 20 miles west in places. The plan was to ride the Durant VOR to the McAlester VOR and then ride the McAlester VOR as far as it would take us. This would get us about to I40. Then there is an NDB just south of Muskogee and an NDB at Tahlequah. Then there is always the line I drew on the sectional from McAlester to Tahlequah.
As we cross I40, we can see it all the way to the other side of the Arkansas River about 12 miles away. A barge has collapsed one span of the bridge several weeks earlier, plunging several cars and people to their deaths. We cannot see details, and even though the TFR for flying within 5 miles has been rescinded, Flight Service is still advising pilots to avoid the area or at least do not loiter over it. As we get further along, we can see down the river to the bridge and see that there is some kind of span back up and work barges under it.
Over the town of Braggs, I begin my descent and attempt to raise Tahlequah Unicom. No answer. I can now see the town, but cannot identify the airport. By the time we cross US62, I can identify it's position from the highway configuration (Just outside of the bypass, NW of town). I have not been paying that much attention to my rate of descent while I search for the field. After locating it and changing course slightly for a better pattern entry, I realize that as I got lower, updrafts from ground heating have slowed my descent and I am now 1000' higher than I want to be at this point in my approach. Traffic pattern altitude (TPA) here is 1700' and I should be at 2000-2300 here, but I am still over 3000'. I turn further east to "square off" the turn to downwind and increase the distance we must go, reduce throttle some more. This works out well and we enter the pattern at the right height and only a little fast. The only problem now is that the more rapid descent has left my eyes no chance to adjust to the perception of height. The altimeter says the height is right, but my eyes (still accustomed to 5500') say we are too low. Turning final, the runway appears at the right place on the windshield, but my mind is still telling me that we are too close to the ground.
We taxi onto an empty ramp and right into a tie down location. The Redhead said, "You know you nailed it when your nose wheel runs over the tail tie down ring.". We shutdown and began picking up the stuff. I write down the hours. We have 1.9 on the clock from Aero Country. We have made the forecast 100 minute leg from Sherman in 85 minutes! It's only 10:45. Tailwinds sure are nice!
Sandra heads for the office while I make the picture. When I get in, there are 2 men in there, Both friendly and talking up a storm with her. I go potty and get a drink of water and we all talk for several minutes while I unwind. Then I go back out and remove our bag, button up and tie down the Mouse. We gather up our bags and get ready to leave. The gregarious Redhead has acquired local maps and more driving directions and helpful hints than we really need. As we are walking out the door, the man tells us that the men who brought the courtesy car back in this morning said that the AC was out. Just what we needed to hear! The car is a relatively new Crown Victoria, recently retired as a city car (most FBO courtesy cars are in this category). It is in good condition except for the AC.
It is now approaching 11:30 and we are both hungry. Our "in-flight snacks" (Rice Krispy bars and water) are wearing thin. We take the bypass to the south side of town. At the bypass/US62 intersection, we can see our motel and know that there are numerous eating places on 62 on both sides of the bypass. We turn south (away from town) and elect to turn around at Willis road. The turn is accomplished by turning left into a bank parking lot on the north side and coming back out onto Willis road. Across the street is an Italian restaurant. Looks good, let's eat!
Full of Ravioli and Rigatoni, we set out for the Murrell house. This house was started by a family in 1844. The basic structure was completed in 1845 and was added to and taken from several times over the years. The State of Oklahoma received it in the 50s and after much research, began restoring the original structure and returning it to as close to it's original appearance as could be determined.
The interior is furnished with as many of the original pieces of furniture as could be acquired. There are numerous exhibits of construction methods and the growth of the structure as well as the local history.
Interesting is why the house survived the Civil war when so few did. John Murrell was a white man married to a Cherokee. He spent the war in Virginia and his wife and other relatives stayed in Oklahoma. The Cherokees largely sided with the Union, so the apparently divided loyalties of the family protected the house from raiders from both sides who passed through.
After enjoying all we could of this place (and there was much to enjoy, we went up the road the 2 miles to the Heritage Center. The man at the airport had told us that the museum had recently revised and upgraded their exhibit and our tickets for the play also included the museum and village, so.....
The new exhibit is very good. It tells the entire story of the Cherokee history and the events leading up to their "removal". There was greed and perfidy on both sides and the exhibit does not whitewash the Cherokee part of it. It was, to some extent, like the history of The United States in microcosm. Many bad things were done by and to them. But through it all, the people stood firm in their dignity and self respect and rose above the hardships.
We did the "nickel" tour of the village and found it little changed from our tour 15 years ago and back to the motel about 3:30. On the way, Sandra mentioned what she had forgotten; her clothes. She had placed 2 outfits on hangars and hung them on the utility room door and that is where they still were. I had seen her take them to that end of the house while I was getting my weather briefing and didn't find them when I got the bags out of the plane. I wondered about it then, but thought maybe she had rolled them up and put them in the bag.
No major problem! First, she had a clean top she could wear tomorrow and shoes for this evening. Second, the motel is right across the street from Wal-Mart. I began cooling down in the room while she ran to Wally World. She came back with a nice skirt and top for tonight. We cooled down, showered and "dressed" for the evening. We left the Motel before 6:00 to eat and return to the Center for the play. We found an excellent hamburger place downtown and drove around some arriving in the amphitheater parking lot at 7:30.
The play is well done. It also is a tribute to the Cherokee spirit but does not hide their human side. The amphitheater holds 1900 but was less than half full for a weeknight performance. A number of misting fans cooled things down before the performance started and the seats were comfortable.
Saturday morning, we got up at 7:30 and hit breakfast before 9:00. Breakfast at that motel is tickets to the attached restaurant. They entitle you to order from a limited breakfast menu, not a buffet. Much better than a donut and a bagel!
After driving all over downtown, we arrived at the Airport just before 10:00. I did the preflight and topped the tanks back up to 40 gallons. Then went in for the briefing and filing of flight plans. The briefing says that the same winds from yesterday still prevail, so my projected flight time is 2:28. I file for a 2:40 flight and we are off just after 10:30.
We depart straight out and turn southwest. It is bumpy until we pass 3500'. Cruising at 4500, the visibility is much like yesterday and the OAT is 75. A little warm as we are now sitting in the sun. The wind is less than expected originally, but slowly strengthens the further south we go. There are scattered puffy clouds at our altitude, but we dodge around most of them. The flight takes only 2:10 and we are home. The end of another very good trip on our magic carpet.
The Hot Season begins in earnest.
I have learned that most non-aviation people are not aware that most (nearly all) small planes do not have air conditioners. Most small planes were built before 1980 during a time when AC was just passing beyond the realm of an add-on for cars. During those days, everyone was aware of the cost in power of air conditioning. Today, they just take it for granted in their homes and cars.
The fact is that most small airplanes are underpowered. They have the bare minimum power required to haul the plane into the air and keep it there. The manufacturers (and the buyers) are more than willing to "spend" all the available power for useful load rather than "frills"
As a consequence, many pilots in the hot parts of the country just sit out the month of August. Looking at the schedule of fly-ins and pancake breakfasts, they begin to tail off after the middle of July and don't resume until mid-September.
We are trying to make 100 hours this year. This requires an average of 8.3/month. We begin August with 63.4 for the year, so we will only need 3.2 in August to stay on target.
On the 1st, my daughter called. She and her husband had been out of touch for the last 2 months due to travelling around amongst all the relatives. His father was visiting them and he (an ex pilot) wanted to see our plane. He was leaving on Saturday, so Friday was the only time. Sandra is already back in school, so I am on my own in the heat.
They live just southeast of Whitesboro, TX which is on US82 halfway between Sherman and Gainesville. The Mouse needs gas, and the FBO at Gainesville is nicer than Sherman, so...
We arrange to meet at Gainesville at 10:00. I get to the hangar at 8:30 and discover our mouse has 2 airplanes wrapped around it. This time, I don't have the Redhead to help or offer suggestions. I drive down to Dave's, but he and a student have an IFR clearance starting in about 10 minutes. No chance of help there. I drive down to Jim's but he isn't home.
I go back to the hangar and cuss while I study the situation. I move the J3 with it's tail under the wing of a 172 until it's wing is touching (almost) the spinner on the 172. Then back and fill with the C170 until I can spin it around and pull it's tail under the wing of a Citabria. Then I can wiggle the mouse back and forth until it will get past the hangar door and the nose of the 170. By this time it is after 9:30 and I am dripping wet. I'm getting too old for this!
I take off at 9:45. The right tank is nearly empty and there is only a little over 10 gallons in the left. This is an opportunity to see exactly where the right tank gauge registers when the tank is really empty. At 2500, I switch to the right tank with the intention of running it until I am in the pattern at GLE or it is empty, whichever comes first.
Now, I really learn something! A little over halfway, I notice that there is a roughness in the engine. The EGT is headed for the peg!. I go to full rich and switch tanks just as the engine begins to sputter. Full throttle and it catches immediately and the EGT returns to normal. Now I not only know exactly where empty is on the right tank gauge, but the symptoms of incipient fuel exhaustion. Rough running and high EGT!
Getting the Gainesville AWOS, I am reminded of why Sherman would have been a better place. There is construction off the north end of the runway and the threshold is displaced 620 feet and marked by white plywood on the margins. This is a new experience. There is no real visual clue as to the aiming point. My eye keeps wanting to use the end of the runway. There is construction equipment in the area north of the runway which is another distraction. Consequently, my short final is very steep, but I manage a decent landing and make the normal turnoff (with some hard braking). As I am turning from the taxiway to the ramp, I can see Tim and Ginger getting out of their truck.
By the time I pull up to the pump and shut down, they (all four) have come out to the plane. I hug Ginger, tousle Cody's 2 year old blonde head, tell him that Grandma Sandra isn't here, shake hands with Tim's father and start the fueling process. It takes 30 gallons to bring it back to 45, meaning that I had at least 12gal useable in the left tank. Now, when the right needle is fully on the E dot and the left gauge shows 1/4, I have 30 minutes to get on the ground for gas.
I push the plane back from the pumps and we all go inside where it is cool. After the obligatory potty and water, we discuss how to break the bodies up into a more manageable grouping for two trips. Ginger needs some aerial pictures of her area for a legal fight she and her neighbors are waging against a landfill. Mike has a fancy new camera. Tim doesn't care. Cody only wants to know where is Grandma Sandra. So Ginger and Mike will go on the first flight.
We borrow a headset from the hangar next to the FBO and set out. I am leery of this "mission" to begin with. Ginger has not been up in a small plane before and has no grasp of what things look like from 1500AGL. And she is going to have to direct Mike as to what to shoot. I also don't want to circle over the area too long. We make 2 complete circuits and I take them over the old field that is now pasture. It takes her a bit of time to "see" it, but she finally does. We go back and make another circuit and head back to Gainesville.
Now, comes real pressure. The displaced threshold, increasing bumpiness as the air is getting hotter and a pilot sitting next to me (whether he is or not), judging my landing. Final is still steep, but I make a good flare and landing. I get slowed down just in time to make the turnoff and taxi back and park.
Tim is not too keen on going up with Cody, but Ginger is ready. After a little cooldown in the air conditioning we go back out. We belt Cody into the back seat and take off. When we get to 2500, Ginger unbelts Cody and pulls him up into her lap so he can see. We fly back out and make another pass over their house while Ginger points out "our house" and "Mama's car" beside it. Then back to the airport.
I return the headset and we start talking about lunch. Cody wants to know is Grandma Sandra going to meet us there for lunch. We hit the buffet at a place in Gainesville (good fried chicken) and back to the airport. We talk for a bit and I saddle up and head home. 2.5 hours in the log.
What we see when we fly
I often ponder on just what it is that keeps the view up there so fresh and exciting. Something Ginger said got me to thinking about it in a different way. Perhaps what we see is different from what John Doe sees. He flies seldom and mostly commercial. If his view of the ground is of interest to him, he first may be seeing it from such a height as to make details irrelevant, but second, if low enough to see details, they are so fleeting that he tries to see it all.
Those of us who see it often and know that we can look at it now and again as often as we wish, may be seeing the details that they miss. Seeing the flock of bright white egrets flying across a green pasture on their way to a pond or lake. Seeing the pattern of cloud shadows over those green pastures, over the expanse of a lake or the deeper green of forested areas. Seeing the crumpled appearance of the land where prairie gives way to hills. Seeing how empty of human presence the land really is. The proportion of urban area to open area is so low. The signs of human development are so few.
Yes, Ginger, the world does seem much bigger when seen from above. But that is, to those of us who fly, an illusion. It is really showing us how small we are and how much detail there is to be seen. The myriad points of interest that our vantage point allows us to pick and choose from. The draw of flying is that we realize that we can never see all of these things, but our curiosity and love of the beauty draw us back into the air time after time just so we can see some more of it.
It also gives us a slightly superior feeling. The wake of a boat on a lake makes us realize how limited that form of recreation is. Seeing the mundane specks on the highway below disappearing under the leading edge of the wing. The crowd of cars in a shopping center parking lot or at some plant. We have risen above that and necessary as that part of life is, we will never again be limited like that. We can see it for the small part of life that it is and know that we can go higher, faster and further than those people can dream of.
We shoulda stood in bed!
I make arrangements to take a fellow from the AOPA forum flying on Saturday the 10th. The weather doesn't look promising as I leave the house, it is raining like mad south of here. At the airport, I open the hangar doors in bright sunlight. I get the plane preflighted and the windows cleaned. I clean out the cabin and pull it to the hangar door and wait for Jason. As I wait, the weather gets worse and by the time he gets there, we ain't going anywhere. I'm glad I only pulled the plane to the door. It is downhill after you pass the threshold. At least we didn't have to push it back up the hill.
School has started for the teachers, and the first few weeks for Sandra are rough. She has to get all the new Special Ed students tested, classified and set up with their individual needs. Even though it is hot, a short trip should help relieve some of her pressure.
There is a Flapjack Fly In at Sulphur Springs on the 17th, but those are not normally much fun for her unless we can tie something else to it. I look for a day trip east of here to tie to the breakfast and come up with Idabel, OK. There is a world class paleologic museum there but not much else. Sounds like a day trip to me.
I have all the preflight planning done by Friday night. The Idabel FBO will have a car waiting for us and the weather while iffy, looks possible. At 6:00AM, the sky looks normal for the first days after a significant rain event. Some low clouds. We get ready and I get the weather briefing and file flight plans. The briefer warns that the clouds may not get over 2000' before noon, but are forecasted to begin rising before 9. I print out the navigation log and put it in the clipboard along with the DFW sectional.
We leave the house shortly before 8 and the clouds seem to be breaking up as we drive to the airport. We only have to move the J-3 to the other side of the door to get out and I complete my preflight making note of the fuel quantity in each tank and making mental notes of when to switch tanks. They have resurfaced the airport road and the runway. The taxiway is really smooth as we taxi to the runup area, but the new markings have not been applied to the runway yet.
We take off with a pattern exit to the east. I call up McKinney tower and am cleared to overfly their airspace while climbing to 3500. We hit the cloud bottoms at 2200'. I tell McKinney I'll stay under them if that is OK and they say it is. We are just 500' above their pattern altitude and will be going across midfield. It is neat but a little hairy to be dodging the clouds and see planes crossing under us that close. After passing their downwind path, I open my flight plan while dodging more clouds. I am down under 2000'. I'll need to listen in on and advise Greenville of our presence at this altitude. I ask Sandra to get the clipboard out of the flight bag and it ain't there. I have left it sitting on the desk!
Well, I can get to Sulphur Springs OK, but I still need the Greenville CTAF. She gets the Flight Guide and I set to that frequency and verify the SLR VOR frequency. Just then the engine begins to die! The mental note was to switch tanks over McKinney and in all the other tasks going on then I had forgotten. Switch tanks, full throttle, full rich. After a burp or two, the engine comes back up. It's pretty hairy to have your engine hiccup at this altitude even when you know instantly what the problem is!
It seems like the whole world is going to SLR this morning. I can occasionally see one other plane ahead of me about 2 miles and when I switch to the SLR CTAF, there is plane after plane announcing positions and intentions. I announce over the top at 2000' and circle back to the downwind. I turn in about 2 miles ahead of a Cessna and start looking for those already ahead of us. I think I am number three but Sandra spies 2 more on base. I extend our base and turn in behind a Bonanza. He is flying awfully low and slow to keep from running over a Cub on short final. I have to make one S turn to keep my spacing from him, which works out just right as he is turning off the runway while I am on a 1/4 mile final. After all this, the landing is a good one. The stall horn came on steady just before the wheels touched.
I hike to the new terminal to call in my closure and use the potty. I come back out and look over the new building. The Airport manager offers a ride back to the festivities. Flight Service has called about a plane that is now overdue at SLR. We ride back over and the Cessna is parked right next to the car parking area. After eating the pancakes and sausage, I walk the ramp looking at all the planes. The clouds are not burning off as forecast and I don't have the planning sheets for the trip to Idabel, so Idabel is probably a no-go. I take the cell phone and go to the plane and get the number from the flight guide, but it is no longer the right number. The valid number is written on the flight plan sitting on my desk!
After getting gas and visiting the new terminal again, we launch for home. 2500' is right at the bottoms of the clouds and the haze is restricting ground visibility more that it did earlier. Going home was the best idea. I had told the Idabel FBO we would be there about noon, but it was 12:30 when I got home and called him to tell him we wouldn't make it.
