Cross Country in a Red 170

[170C]

George, its about time for you or Gary to give us the story of your trip to Albq for the mid year. I know from the time you two got to the motel that you landed after dark, but then we all knew you would even if you arrived mid afternoon . The weather must have been exciting, expecially since Ole Gar apparently didn't have any leg cramps to enliven the flight

[flyguy]

I am reluctant to release too many of the details of the trip here in the public forum. But I will say "It wasn't a total screw-up.

We saw very little to none of the terrain of west Texas. Sunny skies above a 6000' layer of crud and cloud did a very efficiant job of sending us all the way over into New Mexico for our first fuel/pit stop. Clovis was 120 broken and 10+. Some slowly melting piles of snow around the edges of the ramp and a cold wind ahipping around the buildings was the only discomfort. It was good stop and a neat one because we met and talked to three young crew members of Southwest MedEvac, a fairly new helicopter medical ambulance operation in the Clovis area. After talking with them about my personal involvement in fire department ems and setting up LZs for Med Evac in my home area, they presented me with a cap with their company logo. (George wanted to know why I didn't get him a cap. Sorry buddy, If you were a Fire Chief like me you might have had more clout.)

Now it is my turn to fly. I get the high altitude leg from Clovis to ABQ. Ground speeds of about 80K and some bumps in the darkening skies makes me wish we had departed several hours earlier. Yeah I know the rep that my pal George has about getting there way after dark but that wasn't him doin the flying. The main problem we had upon our arrival at ABQ was the information from ATC, "the lights are out at your destination airport"! Someone forgot to lower the "Boom" on a service vehicle and tore out the major power lines in the airport vicinity! WOW! That made a big "black hole" in the surrounding area. We could see the runways well enough with the reflection of the city lights and our own landing light to have landed, but we figured there would be little service when we got on the ground. So over to the "BIG Airport.

Except for being "tailgated" by a Boing 737 on final approach, we made the landing at ABQ's SunPort just fine. Tied down at 7Bar Aviation's facility which is in very close proximity to the Eclipse VLJ facility. We asked the desk attendant if she could contact the motel for a shuttle. I heard her advise the Motel that we were near Eclipse. After a long wait we asked the attendant if she could confirm that the shuttle was actually enroute. Well here is the big news flash! It seems that a TIC170A Director, Geneveve Broshar, was riding along and helping the shuttle driver navigate. Since it has been a long time since Geneveve has had a pinch hitter course her navigation was less than helpful!

(Now that wasn't the total truth at all. Since OLE GAR is (self) relegated to the members only section there will, at times, some of his acid humor (?) escape.) The truth - the information about our location for pick-up got muddled and the shuttle driver actually made the circle in front of "Eclipse" several times and wasn't able to see anyone to pick up.

I was happy to get to come to this gathering of folks that I am proud to call friends. I understand their personal commitment to this organization does come at the expense of time and money and I commend all who attended . Even the Louisiana C--n A--.

More later on the "TRIP HOME!"

[GAHorn]

My viewpoint was similar to Ol'Gars. It goes like this:

(In 2007 Gary Hanson and I flew in N146YS from our place in Central Texas to the ABQ mid-year convention and back. I wrote about it in the Forums shortly thereafter but changes in software corrupted the text. Here it is corrected/re-posted: )

The Asphalt Jungle
(or how the flight to ABQ and back went)


Ol’Gar showed up at my place on Thursday evening and we smoked some chickens and washed it down with Beck’s while we studied our plans for the flight. Next morning we continued the preflight activities over bacon, eggs, biscuits and coffee while we watched the Weather Channel describe widespread low-ceilings, fog and icing over most of west Texas. It was forecast to improve during the day.
We finally saw the local weather lift up to about 1500 ovc and 5 miles so we left my place and headed west. By the time we got to the Brownwood MOA it had dropped to 800 ovc and 1 so we got a climb to VFR on top. We found sunshine at 5500 and leveled off for cruise at 6500. From here to New Mexico it was a sun-shine, smooth ride above a solid white undercast with no view of terrain. It was plus 10-C at that altitude, but by the time we got to the Abilene area all the airlines and military aircraft on approach were complaining about picking up ice on approach. Actual conditions were not as forecast.
By the time we got to Lubbock the ATIS was reporting 500-1 with light icing on descent. Our planned fuel stop was 30 miles north of there at Plainview, but the ASOS was “missing” (Ever notice how this only/always happens in bad weather?) A check with FSS told us Amarillo was worse, reporting 300-1 in fog and icing on approach. We were down to an hour and a half of fuel remaining. It looked like an approach into LBB would work but would also give us a light coat of ice and there we’d be …no desire on our part to depart back into that kind of weather, so we’d be stuck there probably for a couple of days.
A check on Clovis, NM (about 85 miles NW) told us they were “clear below 12K’ so, knowing we’d be landing there with about 30 minutes of fuel, we headed for Clovis. By the time we got there (about 4 PM) it was scattered-to-broken at 8K and VFR below. Slant-visibility was about 5 but it was better down low. We landed and got fuel and ate our smoked chicken leftover lunches. We took on 32 gallons. Gary told the EMS helicopter guys he was a EMT "back home" so they gave him a cap so he could pretend to be from somewhere else and promptly left the hangar so they wouldn't have to listen to him anymore.

It being Ol’Gar’s turn to fly he took off (at least that’s what he said that maneuver was) and we climbed up to 8500 and headed west into what looked like pretty good VFR weather, albeit we had a 15-20 kt headwind. By the time we saw the Sandia Mountains they were just black, jagged wolfs fangs against a fast-fading pink line on the western horizon. Santa Fe city lights were visible to the north though.
Crossing the Sandias just east of ABQ at 8500, the ABQ lights suddenly appeared in the valley before us, and ABQ approach cleared us to AEG (Double Eagle airport which is just NW of Old ABQ.) But only a few minutes later they informed us the lights “just went out” at AEG and would be out for at least the next two hours. “What are your intentions?”

We told them we’d like to continue over to AEG and take a look and they OK’d that. By the time we were overhead AEG we could see utility company trucks with flashing red lights working on the overhead power lines at the airport entrance. (We later found that the ABQ police helicopter also had diverted from AEG to ABQ because of the light failure caused by a construction company who failed to lower the boom on equipment before driving off the airport at the end of the day. Their raised equipment boom tore out the power lines serving the airport.) The asphalt runway outline was barely visible in that dark-hole but it appeared that an occasional vehicle would make a run up and down it and we doubted whether the FBO would be able to serve us in the dark, so we decided to go back southeast and land at ABQ.

Gary made a very nice 3-point landing at ABQ and as he taxied clear of the runway, took delight in making me squirm as he took the left turn-off deliberately close… just-missing the edge lights with the left gear. Not being able to see his side of the airplane from the right seat I scolded “Hey! How about taxying in the center of the taxiway!” He laughed and took us in to 7-Bar Aviation’s ramp. (NOT CUTTER! Since they now refuse to work on airplanes 18 years or older, I refuse to let them sell fuel for mine!) We’d burned another 22 gallons.

7-Bar Aviation is a very nice, clean, cheerful FBO and they gave us good service and nice tie-downs away from the corporate jets. They called for the hotel to come pick us up, and even offered to drive us to the hotel themselves if we so chose. We waited for the hotel ride.
When we got to the hotel, the TIC170A group was in full swing at the bar and Ol’Gar and I checked in, got some grub, and headed to the cantina. Next day we spent in the BOD mtg.
Saturday evening we all went down to “Old Town”and ate in a 1700’s era family-owned restaurant known as “La Placita” Best Chile-Rellenos I’ve ever eaten! Yum!

Bought a Valentines set of turquoise earrings for Jamie from the Indians out front and headed back to the hotel with Richard Haydon. Nice, very interesting guy! Another great TIC170A Member! Thanks for the ride, Richard!
Next day, Sunday, the weather was questionable again. I awoke to the sound of thunder at 3 AM and looked out the window to see it raining. Then I heard the growling of more thunder! “.oh, wait! that’s not thunder. That’s Ol’Gar snoring from both ends over there in the other bed.
I couldn’t sleep so I took a shower, dressed, and went out to the lobby to read and check weather for the return trip. We’d planned to stopfor the night at Tom and Lynn Benedict’s near Roswell but the weather really forecast to be poor. By the time breakfast was over the rain had let up some and the Sandia mountains were in view in some spots.

Miles Bowen offered to drive us to the airport. This turned out to be the most daring part of the entire journey.

After settling into the back seat, I noticed Miles and Ol’Gar fiddling with Miles’ Garmin 396(?) which issues audible driving directions. Miles presumably entered ABQ and it spake Drive east point-nine miles then turn south. Miles drove east along the freeway frontage road looking mostly down at the GPS on the console between himself and Ol’Gar (who also mostly watched the little talking black-box.) Only occasionally did anyone up front appear to actually peer out the cockpit. From the back seat, it was similar to being a passenger on a wild amusement-park ride. Miles accelerated along the feeder looking mostly down, until he came to a green light where he stopped. Cars and trucks whizzed by on both sides and I said, THAT’s the only shade of green it comes in, Miles!

Another car blasted by on our left and I became aware that we could be rear-ended any moment at this intersection to the on-ramp of the freeway.
Miles said, “Well it was red when I last looked at it. (I thought to myself, wasn’t that about 3 minutes back?)
Miles accelerated away from the intersection and the little black box said, “Exit south” Miles turned north-east and entered the on-ramp to the freeway.
Little black box said “exit south and drive west”
Miles drove east past two more exits still looking down at the GPS and took the third exit to the right crossed the left lane into the right turn lane while still looking down at the little black box and then turned south. For some mysterious reason we had missed all the other vehicles in Albuquerque. (Perhaps it’s because we were not that far from Roswell. We were a U.F.O. —-
“ Unconcerned. Fearless. Obsessed.)

Thinking it wise to reduce the risk-of-exposure of the journey I suggested that (since the airport and the hotel are only a few miles apart and both on the Rio Grande River) perhaps the best route might be to drive back (west) to the river and then follow the river (south) to the general aviation area. Little black box said “drive west-then south”…. So Miles drove south all the way to the Security Guard Post at Kirtland Air Force Base, where MPs were checking vehicles entering the base. The MPs watched us make an illegal U-turn right in front of the base-entrance in the parking lot.
Miles noted he didn’t have his Air Force Contractor security-badge with him, but that if he had, we could probably get into the facility. (It wasn’t then, nor is it now, exactly clear to me why we would have wanted to do that.) He then cut across the incoming lane and drove back onto the public street and accelerated away from the guard-post. One of the MPs squinted at our license plate and wrote something down onto a notepad.

Miles drove about a half-mile north and turned west. I mumbled again something about the airport being bounded on the west by the Rio Grande River and I believed the best route to be to drive west to the river and then follow the river south to the general aviation area. Little black box said “drive west then south”… so Miles, from the middle lane, turned south and drove to a dead-end with a high Air Force security fence and came to a stop.
He then turned west and followed the security fence to the Rio Grande at a freeway overpass and stopped at an intersection with a “NO TURNS” sign.
Little black box said “drive south” so Miles turned south (presumably because the little black box database was of more recent date than the city of ABQ’s little “No Turns” Sign) …and followed the river to the general aviation exit and around into the FBO parking lot, we having accomplished 14 miles, 29 minutes, and 6 months off my life.

Miles devotedly stayed with us while we examined the questionable weather, and before he abandoned us at the airport, he made certain that we actually expected to be able to leave. We assured and re-assured him that we would be getting into the plane and leaving and definitely would not be getting back into the car and going back with him.

(Seriously, THANKS for the ride, Miles.)

We loaded up and taxied for takeoff. It was my turn to fly again and as we were cleared to runway 8, I cut the corner of the taxiway towards the jungle of asphalt that makes up the west-side run-up area. “Hey! How About taxying in the center of the taxiway!”, Ol’Gar sneered!

Expletive deleted!, … I asked for and got runway 12 and so we rolled and rolled until we went off the end of the runway and spent the next 30 miles getting up to 9500, and turned the corner down at the south end of the Sandias near Corona VOR. By the time we got there the wx looked pretty good. All the rain showers and virga near Corona had turned into scattered snow-virga, and it was sort of fun to fly along in sunlight, through the snow, and watch it fly up-and-over the windshield. The farther east we flew the better the weather looked.

It had taken so long to get to altitude that we were rueful to give it back. In addition, the forecast for central Texas was bleaker as the day went on, so when we flew by Roswell we looked down, said “Thank you” To the Benedicts and pressed on to Midland, TX for fuel. We landed at the old Midland Airport (old downtown, MDD) and found it manned by a slow dimwit. Although we told him we were concerned about the wx versus time he proceeded to squander about 15 minutes visiting in the parking lot with a Bubba and his pickup truck. I finally managed to get him to actually move the fuel truck in front of the plane so I could grab the hose and fuel it myself.
Ol’Gar and I were very hungry, as it was now 5 PM and had had nothing to eat all day. (I’d at least had breakfast.) The vending machines were hidden in a closet and it took awhile to locate them. I had 60 cents in change and Ol’Gar bought cheese crackers with it. I went to the front counter but Dimwit didn’t want to turn the cash register ON so he could give us change, and offered us the 80-cents he had in his pocket in return for a dollar bill. (He must have had a similar appraisal of me.) I declined.

The weather in central Texas called for low IFR, drizzle, fog, ice, and our plan was to get over the top again and if the wx didn’t allow it, we’d return to San Angelo where a non-precision approach could at least be made. Dimwit was still running my credit card repeatedly through the charge card modem and when I got his attention again I realized he’d charged my credit card twice for the fuel. I asked him to credit the second charge back to the card, and he claimed to have no understanding of how to credit the account. I showed him how to hit the credit-button on the charge-card machine instead of the charge-button, printed out the result and put it in my pocket.

We got airborne 40 minutes after taxying in to the FBO, even though we were their only customer. (Moral: Avoid Basin Aviation at KMDD.)

By the time we crossed over San Angelo we were on top of an undercast again, and by Brady it was 800-2 below us. Fredericksburg and Burnet were both reporting about 400-1 and Llano (our best alternate on a return-route-of-retreat) was (What else?) “missing”.
It was getting dark fast and we listened to airliners on approach to Austin reporting 200-1 in fog. A twin reported a missed approach at Georgetown and wanted to go for the ILS at Austin. We were at 6500. It was dark. And all we could see were oncoming headlights between layers of all the planes heading back west towards good weather.
Burnet (closest airport to my place) was at GPS minimums, 400-1. We arrived over my place and got a cruise-clearance and descended on the Roulette-One Arrival, GPS-A-28 approach, saw the approach-light system in my dog-yard at 1100 MSL (300 AGL).
(Roulette is my Number One Labrador dog. We circled to my lighted runway 21 and landed.)
I woke up the next day with a headache and realized it was all only a strange dream and Miles drives a lot better than I fly.
I PM’d Miles to find that without all the coaching he was able to get back to the hotel in only 6 minutes and a lot fewer miles, and that Ol’Gar had left his pants and a pre-flight-training-film rolled up in a bag in Miles car.
Ol’ Gar was irritated about the loss and asked why I didn’t get them from the car. “Whose fault is that?” I asked him? “I didn’t put them IN his car!”
‘Gar replied, “It’s your fault too. You left the film in the hotel, where it;d still be if I hadn’t picked it up and put it in the bag with my pants.” (Miles had discovered them in his car and gotten the last laugh.)

And so goes another story in The As-phalt Jungle.

“Think about it” -Benny Hill

[N1478D]

. . . and that Ol’Gar had left his pants and a pre-flight-training-film . . . .

So, what was it like walking from the car to the FBO. Were people pointing, gawking, etc. No wonder the guy in Texas was hanging out with his buddy by the pickup vs. being over by the red airplane with two guys - one without pants.

[GAHorn]

Ha!... Yeah, but he thought they were all looking at his NEW CAP!!

[170C]

Well so that is you two guys stories and I'll bet you are sticking to them I was by Midland Air Park on Tuesday following the weekend in Albq & thought I wished I were flying into there at Basin Aviation's red hangar instead of flying that Taurus, but now I suppose I am glad I didn't have to deal with Dimwit or any of his cronies I have never flown into Midland Air Park althought I have driven in the apt multiple times and go by it to see a client on A street every time I am in Midland. I have always gone to MAF, Schlemeyer in Odessa or to Sky West South of Midland (Where Pat Day runs the fbo). I always thought Midland had a diamond in the rough with MDD, but they best get some better lineboys or it will go away. Lot of empty hangars there, but so convenient to Midland businesses. Thanks guys for your stories. We came back on the cattle shuttle aka Southwest Airlines with their lousy first come first serve seating arrangements. Both flights sold out and had to get the very last two seats at the back when coming home.

[flyguy]

MILES HAVE YOU BEEN USING THAT TRAINING FILM SO MUCH YOU FORGOT TO SEND MY PANTS. HEY, I KNOW YOU THINK ITS SUMMERTIME HERE IN LOOUISIANA BUT I REALLY NEED THEM. THE NEIGHBORS ARE BEGINING TO TALK!

AND ALSO: ME, BEING MORE ADVANCED THAN THE FILM SUBJECTS SHOW, YOU CAN SEND THE THING TO JAMIE TO SAVE FOR GEORGE WHEN HE GETS HOME