No this isn't another one of those aborted flights somewhere when we had to drive back....
Seven and a half weeks after a knee injury sidelined me for a while, I finally got back into the air this weekend for some much needed flying with friends. (I’m in the process of getting medical clearance letters from my doctors so that I can get okayed by the FAA to fly as legal PIC again—hopefully not too optimistically by 1 October.)
Len picked me up right at 8am and we headed out to the Cardinal. It had been a few weeks since he had flown as well, so both of us were itching to go. In addition, we planned to pick up Jill at Westchester before heading out to Cherry Ridge. Neither Jill nor Len had been out there before.
Len was to take the first leg and started pre-flighting the airplane as I set up my new toy that I hadn’t yet been able to test out, a Zaon PCAS XRX (http://www.zaon.aero/content/view/12/40/). The Zaon is a portable collision avoidance system that helps point out other aircraft, including providing approximate direction, range, and relative altitude, including whether the target is ascending or descending. In essence, it is like having an extra set of eyes scanning for traffic.
As I finished hooking up the Zaon, I heard a thunk from the engine. Looking up, I saw Len peering into the small hatch where we check the oil dipstick and the quick drain release for testing the fuel sump. He rummaged for a flashlight and told me his keys had dropped into the engine compartment somewhere. Both of us spent the next 20 minutes peering with flashlights into every nook and cranny and sticking our fingers and arms into whatever areas we could reach from the wheel well, cowl flaps, etc.
Finally we came to the realization we would have to take the entire top of the cowl (think engine hood) off. Luckily it’s just held on by lots of Phillips head screws, so both of us grabbed our Leatherman tools and got to work. I had a couple of zip lock bags from the Zaon packaging, so I put all the port side screws into one bag and all of the starboard screws into the other—while trying to remember approximately where each screw came from, since there were a couple of different sizes.
The cowl came neatly off and there were the offending keys, wedged (of course) behind a support strut on a small shelf behind an engine component where they were impossible to see from any position with the cowl on. With the keys fished out, we replaced the cowl and quickly put the screws back in, double and triple-checking everything was in and tight.
So after an hour long pre-flight, we finally strapped in and fired up the Cardinal for the quick hop to HPN to pick up Jill (who took a nap in her car while waiting for us!). As we taxied out, there was still some horribly loud static in the headsets, a mystery Len was still trying to resolve between his avionics guy and his mechanic…each thought it was something in the other’s purview. Once we took off, however, the static was quiet. Len commented that the last time he had flown the airplane, it had been the opposite problem—the static was while flying, but not while taxiing.
It was fairly shmutzy visibility as we left BDR and flew towards HPN. We contacted NY Approach and were given a squawk for our transponder and told to expect a right downwind for runway 34. Len soon had us on the ground and we taxied into Panorama, where Jill was already walking across the tarmac. With a quick exchange of kisses, she was in the back seat and we were soon taxiing back out.
Taking off on runway 34, we were instructed to head to the Tappan Zee Bridge at or below 1,500 feet. A Piper Tri-Pacer had taken off runway 29 just before us so we worked to keep him in sight as he was also heading for the Tappan Zee. At the Hudson, we picked up flight following from NY Approach and climbed up to 3,000 feet, where it was shmutzy but tolerable.
As we flew across southern NY state, we could see the remnants of flooding, including numerous farm fields in Rockland County that were still under water. We chatted a little bit, but with the visibility so poor, we were all scanning pretty hard, especially as we passed Greenwood Lake and Orange County. The Zaon wasn’t showing any targets close by, however, and neither was NY Approach warning us of traffic, so I’m guessing more than a few people were staying on the ground or remaining in the patterns. Len’s smooth flying lulled Jill to sleep after a while.
Soon we were approaching Cherry Ridge and heard an aircraft just departing the field to the south. We gave and received position reports and sure enough, the Zaon picked up the target a few miles out, providing its altitude and tracking it as it moved from our 12 o’clock, to our 10, to our 8 o’clock until it fell off the scope.
Len overflew the field and joined the downwind for runway 36, putting us down right on the spot and rolling out. We were soon parked up on the ramp and getting a big hello from Martha at the Airport Cafe. With a little breeze going, we opted to sit in the shade on the deck where Jill begged Martha for an IV drip of caffeine. Once properly stimulated, she then pulled out the iphone to show us pictures of her new kittens (and grandchild, but most of the pictures were of kittens).
Lingering with a gentle breeze in the shade, chatting with friends and finally properly refueled with coffee and food (I swear by the Big B now—a little bit of everything in there!), we headed back out to the airplane for the trip home. When I had checked in with Michiko upon landing at Cherry Ridge, she excitedly told me that our power had finally come back on after Tropical Storm Irene a week before—so I was excited to head home to electricity for a change!
I took the return legs. It was a bit stickier as we taxied out at Cherry Ridge and I left plenty of room for our takeoff, with the plane configured for a short-field takeoff, running the power up almost to full before I released the brakes. I probably could have squeezed a few more feet out of the runway for my takeoff roll, especially as takeoffs with three people at Cherry Ridge seem to be long low, slow affairs.
Climbing back up into the shmutz, we got flight following from Wilkes-Barre Approach and pointed the airplane towards HPN. The static was loud now, even in the air and was really annoying. Jill had been trying both headset jacks in the back seats, but we were all getting the static. Trying to find some way to see what might be causing it, I finally hit the crew isolation button on the radio panel, cutting off Jill. To our amazement and relief, the static disappeared. We gave Jill a heads up that we were going to isolate her and had blissful quiet for the remainder of the flight—which also let us know that the problem most likely rests with the rear headset jacks that Len had had installed.
As we approached HPN, Len gave me a great tip—from the Tappan Zee Bridge, aim for 100 degrees and it will take you right to HPN. We were originally given instructions for the left base to runway 34, but since we were going to Panorama, I requested runway 29 which the tower gave us happily…this would allow us to roll out right to Panorama’s doorstep. We were cleared #2 to land behind a Cessna, who appeared to take off from runway 11 and do a slow 180-degree maneuver and land on runway 29.
As we came onto short final, the tower cleared a passenger jet to take off from runway 34. Another jet waiting to take off commented to the tower that we were on short final already and the tower replied that everything was fine, they do this type of thing all the time. Despite the tower’s confidence in themselves, I decided to land long (past the runway intersection) to get a little more time for the jet to clear my path and greased a landing.
With goodbyes to Jill, we were soon back into the air for the short flight back to Bridgeport through the haze. We were cleared for the right downwind to runway 24 and we were again home, the Cardinal making my landings look easy and good.
What a great way to spend a Saturday morning, especially after so many weeks on the sidelines! Thanks to Len and Jill for a terrific time!
