November Morning

Yesterday was the first test flight beyond the pattern in the Chief since the extensive maintenance done during the annual inspection this November. The forecast promised light winds and mostly clear skies with a low of 32 and a high of 48. I stopped by the hangar on the way home from work Tuesday evening and set up the 100w pre-heater, prepared the cabin, and made sure everything was ready to roll Wednesday morning.

Wednesday dawned as promised, but with some local fog and widespread cloud cover. I figured it was the typical November grey and would not interfere with the flight. The airport was clear enough and the windsock was hanging limp so the forecast was close. It took a few minutes to pull the airplane out, preflight, tie it down, and prime it, and the cold engine took a few tries before chugging to life. I saved myself some work by tying the tail to the truck’s frame. Once it was putt-putting smoothly I pushed the hangar doors closed (no easy task), locked up, untied, pulled chocks, and climbed in.

Control check, radio check, trim set, doors checked on the slow taxi down to the east end of the runway. Winds are calm but a 27 departure offers a few more emergency landing options immediately after takeoff.

Run up is fine, mags check, idle good – announce intentions on the radio, pull out into the pavement, and add power.

The tail came up quickly and the airplane was light on its feet in a couple of hundred feet. Airborne at 40, speed increases to 50. The ground falls away and the four cylinders provide a steady roar. RPM is climbing from 2200 to 2300 as the propeller unloads. I probably could have waited a bit longer for the engine to warm, but so far, so good.

Announce left closed traffic, turn and climb into the left downwind, check RPM, oil pressure, and level speed – all good. Announce leaving the pattern southbound, starts a shallow bank right and maintain a steady climb.

The air is heavy with a fine haze under a solid layer of cloud. I tune the radio to the Morgantown AWOS:  ceiling 2800 feet, winds calm. No problem – I won't be more than 1000 AGL. The terrain straight ahead and to the west is rather featureless – a series of hills and valleys with no discernable pattern. It’s hard to know what road or what tiny hamlet is below, so I look for the Morgantown and Shinnstown powerplant plumes.

If I keep Morgantown off the left wing and Shinnstown ahead and to the right a bit I’ll be on course. I check the compass from time to time and nudge it back to a heading of 190 degrees. I keep the radio on set to 121.15 and listen to Clarksburg Approach. It’s quiet.

From time to time I pull the carb heat on. RPM drops. I leave it on a minute then turn it off – RPM increases. Good, no ice, and the carb heat box was properly installed.

Time passes slowly and every little change in sound gets my attention. Yet the engine is running steady and the airspeed indicator is solid at 85 MPH at 2500 RPM. I’ve seen 85 from time to time but not usually solo in level flight. Nice! The scent of warmed paint and cooked oil wafts into the cabin. I push the heater in but all that happens is a flood of cold air. I know the engine is warm – hmmm. I’ll have to check that.

I check my cell phone. A text from Dave, my ride from the airport: “U inbound?” I reply, “Yep. 0818 arrival”

I take the time to look around. It’s hard to see much in the haze. It’s VFR and visibility is at least seven miles, but the early morning light is diffused and the grey sky gives everything a flat appearance.

Soon I can make out the outline of a lake, then houses – Fairmont should be straight ahead. There’s the river – and the interstate. I switch to 122.8, listen, then announce 5 miles out.

I can’t make out the airport yet but know where I am in relation to it. Soon I see the bend in the river and the long stretch of pavement. I don’t hear anyone on the radio and see no activity on or near the field. Winds are calm so I head straight in, reducing power, lifting the nose, cranking up the trim -- feeling and hearing the airplane change its gait from cruise to descent.

The ground slowly grows; the numbers on the runway remain centered in the windscreen as the world spreads out from those ever-expanding numbers. It’s an optical trick that is useful – the spot that doesn’t move is where you’re heading.

Check speed – 60 MPH. The river slips below me. Now the runway is made – if I lose power I’ll still make it to the airport. Power to idle; pull back a bit on the yoke: 50 MPH. I crank full nose up trim but that only maintains pitch to just below 60 – I try to keep a calibrated pull back on the yoke. The numbers flash beneath the wheels, and now the sensation of speed as the pavement slips beneath. Hold it off, hold it off, keep it straight while dozens of feet slip underneath. 50 MPH is probably too fast – I’ll have to try 45 next time.

There’s a slight rumble in the back yet I don’t feel the mains yet  -- then the mains touch. Keep it straight, no brakes, back pressure, ok -- good. The oleo gear gives the impression that the airplane is still flying when in fact the wheels are rolling, but there’s still a half of foot of travel downward as the pistons compress. I’ve been landing on grass all summer so the sounds and sensations of a pavement landing are noisy and foreign.

Release back pressure and let the airplane roll freely along the runway the remaining thousand feet to the parking spot. I pull the plane in to a tie-down marked with new ropes, switch off fuel, run up to 1500 RPM, get straight, pull back to 1000, the engine coughs, dies. Mags and radio off, unbuckle, unload, tie down, and walk over to the car.

“Good morning, Dave!”

“Hey, Dan…”

I check my watch – 0818.

Sometimes I guess well.