Oshkosh was beckoning, and I was finally free of my obligations at work! Leaving Missions Control about noon on Monday, I had been watching the weather closely, and was hoping to make an early bed time (as I had been doing for a week), get up with my mission-shifted circadian rhythms about 0200, and launch for KOSH with a fuel stop in northern Missouri at dawn. That would put me at KOSH on Tuesday mid-morning, and I figured the traffic would be reasonable.
Alas, Weather is what Weather is ? not what we want it to be. There had been a large blob of weather across Oklahoma and extending east into Arkansas most of Monday ? It had ranged from thunderstorms to milder, non-convective stuff, but was now predicted to kick up again in the morning and stay put ? a rip-snorting line of stuff I wouldn?t want to cross from west of OKC all the way east into Georgia. I could see the weak front squishing down towards the gulf coast without enough oomph to push through cleanly. Rather, it would stagnate and concentrate the heat and moisture within 400 miles of the coast. Thunderstorms and other nastiness would ensue, and I?d be lucky to get to KOSH by Friday, unless I was willing to go to Denver first. Another small cool front was moving down from Lake Superior and expected to form a line across from Oshkosh to northern Missouri and into Kansas by morning ? a second hurdle that would make life miserable. There were a few late-afternoon build-ups beginning to pop in eastern Texas and all across Louisiana, and while they probably wouldn?t become major before sunset, they certainly might not die away for several days. If I could get north of that northern cold front before it really got going, I?d have my best shot.
The bottom line to all that was if I was going to go?.I needed to go! The little red cells building up in far east Texas were staying east of Lufkin, and there was a nice path of no radar returns north of Longview going northeast to Little Rock. The showers in northern Texas were nothing but green, and I figured I could explore those to see what was there, or continue farther east around all of what the radar showed. I slept for a few hours before setting out about 1800 ? that gave me a good three hours of daylight which would put me up into Missouri with ease, well north of all the echoes of significance. Ceilings were reported up around eight to nine thousand most of the way, and visibilities were all VFR. A few stations reported showers, but they were widespread. I suspected that much of the green and yellow over the Ouachitas was virga and figured I could find an overnight stop near the cheap fuel stop at Moberly if I wanted to quit there. Leaving was simply a matter of locking the house and walking out to the hangar to pull out the Val. Louise had flown commercial to Oshkosh two days earlier so that she could be there to help at the NPS display, so I was solo for the way up.
Climbing around the east side of the Houston Class B, I aimed just to the west of the cells near Lufkin, which took me just a touch west of north. Climbing to 6500?, I had good ceilings above, excellent visibility below, and watched the radar returns as the showers continued to build to the east. I slid a little further west to stay clear of a cell that was showing lightning bolts on the XM, and then edged around the west side of Longview?s TRSA. This was where I thought I was going to have to head straight east to get around the green blob over Arkansas and Missouri, but I decided to see exactly what the radar was painting, so headed back towards my direct course line from Houston to Moberly. As I slid into the green returns, I started to get very light rain on the windshield ? alas, it was not enough to clean the wings, just to make muddy streaks. A few yellow returns gave a little more rain, but it never gave me a good wash job. Again, the ceilings above were clearly defined and I had about ten miles of ground visibility, so northward I went. Sunset was a good hour and a half away, and the only change I saw as I went north were very low cloud banks in some of the valleys. The airports along the way were easily visible, and good places to back-track towards if I didn?t like what I saw. Fort Smith came and went on my port side as I left the remaining showers behind and scooted on into Missouri. The sun was peeking through under the clouds from the west as it made the final dash to the horizon. Clearly, I was through the weather that I was trying to beat, and relaxed as a nice night flight presented itself.
I was about an hour out of Moberly when I remembered that I had seen some NOTAMS regarding lights at the field, and I wasn?t going to be there before dark. Unfortunately, XM doesn?t do NOTAMS yet, so I resorted to that good old-fashioned tool, the radio. The 696 has a nice ?Nearest? feature that will give you the closest FSS frequency, and I was quickly talking with the lonely folks through Columbia Radio. Sure enough, as he read the numerous postings for the field, it became clear that they were essentially blacked out at night, so that was no longer an option. I punched in Columbia instead, and was soon in range to set off the runway lights with a few clicks. The landing was OK, considering I had turned the lights on full, and the ?rabbit? nearly blinded me on the now-clear night. I taxied up to an empty ramp in front of a lighted FBO sign. Yes, they had fuel ? expensive, unfortunately, so I only took 15 gallons (more than enough to get me to northern Iowa, my target to get north of a predicted cold front that was to develop overnight). No, I couldn?t spend the night in their lounge, because they closed at midnight. Yes, they could get me a hotel room ? the closest was 10 miles away. Yes, they had a courtesy car, but No, I couldn?t have it overnight (since they were about to close, and I was going to be off at dawn, why not? Oh well?.this was a little bit like Larry, his brother Darrel, and his other brother Darrel?.). No, they couldn?t find a taxi. And oh, they didn?t seem to have any tie-down points on their huge ramp?.So, I elected to nap for a half hour, and set out for Ames, Iowa, an airport I had used in the past, and knew to be in good shape. Fuel wasn?t cheap there either, but I didn?t intend to buy any unless I had no choice.
I have always enjoyed flying well after dark in good weather, and this one hour trip was beautiful. There were some storms near Kansas City, well to the west, and the lightning was pretty to watch from a distance. The small towns of Iowa appeared just where they were supposed to be, and I passed Des Moines on the east, setting up to track the Localizer in to Ames ? I always call up the guidance at night to make sure I don?t give in to any optical illusions at a strange field. Sure enough, the place was locked up tight as a drum at 2330, so I crawled in to the back seat of the Val (because I could stretch my legs out), and went to sleep until the faint beginnings of dawn. Not the most comfortable place to spend the night, but I have endured a lot worse ? at least the temperature was nice, and I had a VAF fleece pullover to use as a pillow?.
- Continued Next Post -
Alas, Weather is what Weather is ? not what we want it to be. There had been a large blob of weather across Oklahoma and extending east into Arkansas most of Monday ? It had ranged from thunderstorms to milder, non-convective stuff, but was now predicted to kick up again in the morning and stay put ? a rip-snorting line of stuff I wouldn?t want to cross from west of OKC all the way east into Georgia. I could see the weak front squishing down towards the gulf coast without enough oomph to push through cleanly. Rather, it would stagnate and concentrate the heat and moisture within 400 miles of the coast. Thunderstorms and other nastiness would ensue, and I?d be lucky to get to KOSH by Friday, unless I was willing to go to Denver first. Another small cool front was moving down from Lake Superior and expected to form a line across from Oshkosh to northern Missouri and into Kansas by morning ? a second hurdle that would make life miserable. There were a few late-afternoon build-ups beginning to pop in eastern Texas and all across Louisiana, and while they probably wouldn?t become major before sunset, they certainly might not die away for several days. If I could get north of that northern cold front before it really got going, I?d have my best shot.
The bottom line to all that was if I was going to go?.I needed to go! The little red cells building up in far east Texas were staying east of Lufkin, and there was a nice path of no radar returns north of Longview going northeast to Little Rock. The showers in northern Texas were nothing but green, and I figured I could explore those to see what was there, or continue farther east around all of what the radar showed. I slept for a few hours before setting out about 1800 ? that gave me a good three hours of daylight which would put me up into Missouri with ease, well north of all the echoes of significance. Ceilings were reported up around eight to nine thousand most of the way, and visibilities were all VFR. A few stations reported showers, but they were widespread. I suspected that much of the green and yellow over the Ouachitas was virga and figured I could find an overnight stop near the cheap fuel stop at Moberly if I wanted to quit there. Leaving was simply a matter of locking the house and walking out to the hangar to pull out the Val. Louise had flown commercial to Oshkosh two days earlier so that she could be there to help at the NPS display, so I was solo for the way up.
Climbing around the east side of the Houston Class B, I aimed just to the west of the cells near Lufkin, which took me just a touch west of north. Climbing to 6500?, I had good ceilings above, excellent visibility below, and watched the radar returns as the showers continued to build to the east. I slid a little further west to stay clear of a cell that was showing lightning bolts on the XM, and then edged around the west side of Longview?s TRSA. This was where I thought I was going to have to head straight east to get around the green blob over Arkansas and Missouri, but I decided to see exactly what the radar was painting, so headed back towards my direct course line from Houston to Moberly. As I slid into the green returns, I started to get very light rain on the windshield ? alas, it was not enough to clean the wings, just to make muddy streaks. A few yellow returns gave a little more rain, but it never gave me a good wash job. Again, the ceilings above were clearly defined and I had about ten miles of ground visibility, so northward I went. Sunset was a good hour and a half away, and the only change I saw as I went north were very low cloud banks in some of the valleys. The airports along the way were easily visible, and good places to back-track towards if I didn?t like what I saw. Fort Smith came and went on my port side as I left the remaining showers behind and scooted on into Missouri. The sun was peeking through under the clouds from the west as it made the final dash to the horizon. Clearly, I was through the weather that I was trying to beat, and relaxed as a nice night flight presented itself.
I was about an hour out of Moberly when I remembered that I had seen some NOTAMS regarding lights at the field, and I wasn?t going to be there before dark. Unfortunately, XM doesn?t do NOTAMS yet, so I resorted to that good old-fashioned tool, the radio. The 696 has a nice ?Nearest? feature that will give you the closest FSS frequency, and I was quickly talking with the lonely folks through Columbia Radio. Sure enough, as he read the numerous postings for the field, it became clear that they were essentially blacked out at night, so that was no longer an option. I punched in Columbia instead, and was soon in range to set off the runway lights with a few clicks. The landing was OK, considering I had turned the lights on full, and the ?rabbit? nearly blinded me on the now-clear night. I taxied up to an empty ramp in front of a lighted FBO sign. Yes, they had fuel ? expensive, unfortunately, so I only took 15 gallons (more than enough to get me to northern Iowa, my target to get north of a predicted cold front that was to develop overnight). No, I couldn?t spend the night in their lounge, because they closed at midnight. Yes, they could get me a hotel room ? the closest was 10 miles away. Yes, they had a courtesy car, but No, I couldn?t have it overnight (since they were about to close, and I was going to be off at dawn, why not? Oh well?.this was a little bit like Larry, his brother Darrel, and his other brother Darrel?.). No, they couldn?t find a taxi. And oh, they didn?t seem to have any tie-down points on their huge ramp?.So, I elected to nap for a half hour, and set out for Ames, Iowa, an airport I had used in the past, and knew to be in good shape. Fuel wasn?t cheap there either, but I didn?t intend to buy any unless I had no choice.
I have always enjoyed flying well after dark in good weather, and this one hour trip was beautiful. There were some storms near Kansas City, well to the west, and the lightning was pretty to watch from a distance. The small towns of Iowa appeared just where they were supposed to be, and I passed Des Moines on the east, setting up to track the Localizer in to Ames ? I always call up the guidance at night to make sure I don?t give in to any optical illusions at a strange field. Sure enough, the place was locked up tight as a drum at 2330, so I crawled in to the back seat of the Val (because I could stretch my legs out), and went to sleep until the faint beginnings of dawn. Not the most comfortable place to spend the night, but I have endured a lot worse ? at least the temperature was nice, and I had a VAF fleece pullover to use as a pillow?.
- Continued Next Post -
