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Our Flight from Salt Lake to Fort PayneIt was our first real flight in our new plane, N283R; a 1965 Piper Cherokee 235. The plane was loaded, the gas tanks were full, we had done a complete preflight, filed a flight plan and were trying for a break in the radio traffic long enough to get permission to taxi. I was feeling like I had never been in a plane before. John had done his initial flight training in a Piper Warrior at Robins Air Force Base, and had completed his biennial in Steve Bell’s Cherokee 235. We had even flown this plane a couple days earlier from Salt Lake to Tooele, Utah to do some pattern work and get familiar with the plane. Still, I wasn’t feeling up to even my co-pilot duties. I was having trouble just remembering how to change frequencies on the Garmin 430. My brother, who was selling us the plane had helped me program in our flight plan just before we had started the engine, now I couldn’t figure out how to get back to the correct menu. In the meantime we are in a very large, very busy airport at a busy time of day. If you don’t understand the term “peak hours” in relation to airports, just try to get on the radio at 8 am in Salt Lake City. With all the commercial airline traffic and business jets trying to leave at the same time, it was near impossible to even get permission to taxi to the first hold spot. I had learned to fly on a gravel runway, 150 miles from the nearest towered airport, so I have never been comfortable talking to controllers. It took at least three tries before I got a response from Clearance and permission to taxi to the first hold, another 15 minutes at blue spot 37 trying to get permission from Ground to taxi to the runway. I was tempted to declare myself a student pilot just in hopes of getting the controllers to slow their instructions from class 5 hurricane speed to tropical depression speeds. I was glad that Dad had given me a cheat-sheet with frequencies for Salt Lake, and the format of what to say and when. There are a lot more steps getting out of Salt Lake than out of Fort Payne. There are 4 runways at Salt Lake International and all of them were in use this morning. We took off runway 35 and were barely past the end of the long runway when we were directed to turn right and headed south over Interstate 15, then a left turn over Interstate 80 and we were out of Salt Lake Airspace and heading east toward the Wasatch Mountains. There is not much distance between the airport and the mountains. We need to maintain a high rate of climb or plan on doing a 360 to gain some altitude. On this cool day (40°F at takeoff), the Cherokee handled the climb to 11,500 feet without any trouble. I feel today like I always did growing up in Salt Lake Valley. I am grateful to leave the city’s traffic behind and head up Emigration Canyon for the serenity and beauty of the mountains. It is like being out of the smog and being able to breathe again. |
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We roughly follow the interstate past towns that I have only seen from the ground. Past Park City and some of the Olympic courses that are easy to spot from the air, then past Echo Canyon Reservoir, Evanston, Fort Bridger and the town of Green River at the north end of Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area where I worked my first summer job. Our first stop is Rawlins, Wyoming, KRWL, about 2 hours out of Salt Lake. If we had intentionally looked for an airport that was as different from Salt Lake International as possible, we couldn’t have done much better than Rawlins. Granted there are two crossed runways (probably due to those Wyoming winds), but everything else is small town. The FBO is in a metal hangar and one of the airport attendants came to meet us and show us where to park. We had planned this first stop, as much for the break as anything. Inside we are greeted by the resident airport mutt, restrooms are through the shop part of the hangar, where an old ratty couch and a noisy vending machine comprise the pilot lounge. The two men that are France Flying Service are chatty and friendly, offering coffee and conversation. We top off the mains, buy a couple bags of mixed nuts, check the weather and are about on our way out the door. But before we can leave we are handed a couple notebooks, pens, and address books; all freebies from France Flying Service. My dad and brother had both told us that Rawlins was a good first stop. Now having experienced it, I have to agree with them. Nothing fancy or pretentious, just an honest open friendliness of a small windblown Wyoming town. |
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We are back in the air. Next stop Limon, Colorado; KLIC. We had planned this stop on AirNav looking for cheap fuel. We land on the single runway and taxi to the south end. No one is anywhere in sight when we land. We park at the self-service pump and fill up the tanks. Still no one in sight. There is a small building with a couch, a phone and a restroom. We help ourselves to all three. We shed our jackets and snack on lunch that Mom had packed for us before we left Salt Lake. (Thanks, Mom.) And then we are back in the air again, having never seen another person during our stop in Limon. |
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The last leg of the day is our longest, about 3 hours, and we land in Emporia, Kansas. I had read somewhere that some folks at MIT set out to prove if Kansas really is as flat as a pancake. Turns out that it is actually flatter. These engineers found that if you measured all the imperfections across the surface of a pancake and then extrapolated that to the width of Kansas, then the pancake would be have more topographic relief. I think about that as we land with the setting sun off our left wing
just after 6 pm, and just after the FBO has closed for the day. Fortunately,
the pilot lounge is still accessible and while we are looking around and
trying to figure out where to spend the night, a Cessna 172 lands and
another pilot gets out. Monty has been out flying with his son, who is
already taxing back to the runway for his short flight back home. Monty
offered to give us a ride into town and along the way he gave us a tour
of the town and a history of the area. We did take Monty up on the offer to loan us his Crown Victoria for the night. We join the crowd at Bruff’s Bar & Grill for dinner which we’ve been told is the place the locals enjoy, but we find out it is more of a sports bar than a restaurant and the 10 TVs hanging around the room don’t add much to the ambiance. We are happy to get back to the room and call it a day. |
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Day 2 An interesting website with lots of photos from Walnut Ridge's heydays is http://encyclopediaofarkansas.net/encyclopedia/entry detail.aspx?entryID=2820 Today most of the huge apron is speckled with weeds and most of the buildings are gone, but the long runways remain. The walls of the FBO are covered with historic photos. A lot happened here in just a few years. Now there is an aviation museum on the field and a restaurant next door to the FBO. The Parachute Inn consists of a normal looking brick building until you get to the left side which is the fuselage of a Southwest 737. They have a lunch buffet and you can seat yourself in the building or in the plane. Our last flight was about 2 hours 15 minutes. I've finally mostly figured out the Garmin 430, at least I can do the necessary basics without getting flustered. The plane is starting to feel comfortable, although it still feels strange to have those wings below us rather than above us. And soon we are landing at Fort Payne. It is good to be home. ~ Laura |
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| 10/17/2007 | |||||||||||||
