Finally the alarm sounds and it is 4:00 a.m. The fact that the alarm really served no purpose on this morning could be a problem later in the day due to a lack of sleep. Last night I had virtually gone thru everything in my mind from leaving the house to loading the plane, to flying the route. Anything that was needed but overlooked was added and I was pretty sure that everything was in place. The only thing left was to try to settle the nerves and catch a few hours of sleep. Sleep however eluded me on this night and time seemed to creep by with reminders every hour on the clock on the nightstand that the trip was going to be done on little or no sleep. This was fatiguing knowing that I couldn't fall asleep, but the night slowly passed just the same. So now, turning off the blaring alarm and putting my feet on the floor the day began. A quick shower and a cup of coffee for the drive to the plane and the journey becomes a reality.
The first problem arose upon arrival at the airport where the gate that has been open to just drive thru for years is closed and locked. Could this mean that the airport is closed? The conclusion was that this wasn't the case so I drove around to the side of the airport where there is no fence and gained access there. The fence really only keeps the stupid, or honest criminals out and the county never bothered to close off at least half of the property. With this problem easily solved my bags were loaded and a small ice chest was put in the front with me on the floor on the passenger side. This contained my lunch and six bottles of water and would go a long way to make the flight comfortable. Sherri always takes care of me and this trip was no exception. The charts were stacked and held together with a rubber band in the order that I would use them, both the Western and Central States Flight Guides were at the ready and all that was left to do was start the plane and take off by myself on my greatest adventure since getting my pilots license. The trip would consist of several legs that would ultimately take me from Reid Hillview Airport in San Jose , CA to Roanoke , TX . The first leg was timed to get me to Lake Havasu where 94W would get fueled up, and I could take a few minutes to stretch and grab a bite to eat before crossing the Arizona and New Mexico deserts. Rolling to the runway from the runup area at 13L the scale of what was about to happen really hit me hard. It was similar to the feeling that came with a first solo and was both exciting, and a little scary. Did I forget anything? Are all the pieces in place to travel great distances? All the time when Sherri and I rented Cherokees or during the short time that we owned a fourth of a 180 Cherokee we rarely ventured more than two hours flight time from home. This trip would pass any distance that I had ever covered on the first leg. So as the power was pushed forward and the plane leaped eagerly into the air all the worries just melted away and a feeling of peace overcame me. Flying does this for me and on this morning it is no exception. The first leg would be direct Palmdale and then around Edwards Air Force Base, then Hector VOR, Geoff's VOR, and into Lake Havasu . The climb to 9,500' took about 8 minutes in a cruise climb at 105 knots indicated. A quick call to NOR CAL departure for flight following and then another to Oakland Radio to open my flight plan and the chores were basically finished for the next two hours. The lack of sleep caught up to me on the trip down the California Central Valley and the peacefulness of the morning sky and the sunrise made me feel both happy and sleepy. I fought the urge to nap and continued on my journey hanging a left turn over the Palmdale Airport where my father had worked and retired from. I looked down at the large hanger where the L-1011's were assembled in the early 70's as memories of another time flooded my mind. I looked for the areas in the desert where I rode my motorcycle every day after school and tried to locate the old neighborhood from the air without any luck. Palmdale was now behind me almost as fast as it had approached and Edwards was now off my left wing. For an April morning the temperature was already climbing in the desert and I'm glad that I left early. Somewhere just prior to starting a let down into Lake Havasu I hit several bugs and they made very large yellow marks on the windscreen. They impacted with a thud and I remember pondering what these bugs were doing at 9,500'. So far everything was going well and according to plan as Lake Havasu appeared in the distance. Landing was uneventful and a gentleman in a “Follow Me” golf cart appeared and took me to his FBO's ramp. As I pulled into the tie down he drove away to his work place as I shut down the engine and disconnected the seat belt. When I went to get out of the plane the second problem of the trip arose. The tie down was on slope and the plane would roll if I took my feet off of the brakes. Sitting there holding the brakes didn't help to get anybody's attention so I started playing “What if?” Letting go of the brakes and counting to see how long it took for the plane to move, and then how fast, etc. I decided that I could get out and catch it with time to spare before enough inertia built up that I couldn't. So very quickly I let off the brakes and climbed onto the wing walk and jumped off the front of the wing. Moving to the front of the plane I was able to stop the movement and the plane was still pretty much in the tie down. Doh, now what do I do? The chalks are in the plane and there is no way to hold it from moving while they are retrieved. So pulling the plane forward and turning it onto the taxiway between the rows of tie downs I abandoned any thoughts of parking in the spot that the golf cart had led me to. Lesson learned here; don't park on a hill if a parking brake wasn't installed during the build. More coffee and a breakfast burrito from a vending machine and a 15 minute much needed nap in a chair in the lobby of the FBO while the plane was fueled and I was good to go again.
After departing Lake Havasu for the next stop at St. Johns , Arizona a climb to 11,500' offered a relief from rising temperatures. The reality is that it was just plain hot at Lake Havasu and it was nice to get going. For some reason I couldn't raise Center for Flight Following and waited until Phoenix tower could be reached to get a frequency for my area. Even though my Garmin GPS had a current database the center frequency that it showed for my area wasn't correct. The last half of this leg served up constant turbulence and without autopilot it was bad enough that I couldn't let go of the stick to read or look at my charts. The decision was made somewhere near the Winslow area that when the plane came home from the paint shop an autopilot would be installed because the work load is just to high in rough air over long periods of time. When I finally arrived at St. Johns there was a red RV on the ramp at the fuel pumps that had just finished refueling. The gentleman introduced himself as Ed Holkye and he was from Southern California . Ed and his wife were enroute to Sun N Fun at Lakeland Florida and Ed asked if I wanted to continue as a two ship on my next leg. While we were talking Ed's wife was in the restroom nursing a severe case of air sickness. She came out and bravely got back into their airplane and off they went. I wasn't ready to continue just yet so we didn't leave as a two ship, but their plans were to make Missouri and call it a day. The thought of leaving California and making Missouri the same day made me laugh to myself. What a new world this RV has opened up and it will take some getting used to. So here on the Arizona and New Mexico border it was time to head off for the next leg of the trip.
The thought of flying thru bumps again for several hours wasn't appealing at all, but after thirty minutes or so some relief came. The flight into Double Eagle in Albuquerque was uneventful. The temperatures were high at 11,500' and the bottles of water were steadily being consumed. It was becoming apparent that ChapStick or similar is a must and that even though I had read that UV doesn't make it thru the canopy it was becoming obvious that a sunburn was happening all over my arms and face. Even though 94W has a Koger Sunshade the effects of the sun were taking their toll. I now carry several tubes of ChapStick in my flight bag and hope to never be caught like this again. Even though this leg was short it was needed for fuel and offered me a chance of making it all the way to Roanoke without stopping again.
Departing Double Eagle in the late morning hours provides a thorough testing of any dental work or fillings. Again, the mountainous terrain in the high desert provides for some pretty good bumps. Departure control routed me around the back of the big mountain that nestles up against the city of Albuquerque . Whether or not it would have been smoother to transition the Class B and join the planned route the controllers liked the idea better of putting me into the winds on the backside of the hill. Approximately four times since finishing the plane my head has made contact with the canopy, and this was one of them. Settling in at 11,500' cooled down the cabin slightly, but didn't help with the ride. As this leg unfolded in front of me the idea of making Roanoke without another stop seemed a little ambitious. This was planned for and with the help of AirNav a stop was already highlighted on my chart for just southeast of Lubbock at a small strip. The prices were the best in the area and when setting up to land I almost felt guilty about stopping just to take in some of the cheap gas and then moving on. In the end, the joke was on me however because the fuel pumps were locked up and nobody was available to pump it for me. I tried a crop dusters office to see if they had any info, but no such luck. Nobody was home there either. This created a problem because with the burn from another takeoff and climb out there was no way that I could make Roanoke . The sure bet at this point was to slightly backtrack and land at Lubbock Intl. Airport . The short flight was easy and this Class C airport was no big deal to fly into even with zero planning or intention to ever go there. On final to runway 35 I asked the controller if it would be advantageous to land long or short since this stop was for fuel. The runway is about two miles long and in the heat the thought of a long taxi didn't seem prudent. With the instruction to land long, me and the trusty RV flew about one and one half miles down the runway in ground effect just wallowing along and playing. Finally wheels down and a taxi to the FBO for the HIGHEST priced gas that I'd ever seen! My take on Lubbock is that is smells badly and the gas costs a lot. The kid at the FBO did lay down a red carpet next to the RV however, so it almost made up for the addition $50 or so that this fuel stop would cost.
When it was time to leave Lubbock , which was about twenty minutes after arrival my nose had not yet become acclimated to the pungent industrial refinery kind of smell that the area offered to its inhabitants. In less than a half of an hour this smell replaced Buddy Holly as what will always come to my mind when Lubbock is discussed or mentioned in a book or news article. With a call to ground the two mile taxi begins with a clearance to taxi to runway 35. So with all the time in the world to set up the plane off I go. Trim, set, flaps, set, GPS, programming route. Then all of a sudden the ground controller says “94W that will be your hold line.” Wow, pulling throttle back and brakes to firewall the RV stops just short of the lines for the crossing runway. For about 30 seconds I sat there stunned and replaying in my mind the taxi instructions. Usually if there is a crossing runway the instruction to hold is given initially and it wasn't in this case. So squeezing the mike key on the stick I told the ground controller “I confess; I'm confused. I thought you cleared me to runway 35.” The controller asked me if I needed all that runway of if I wanted to go from this intersection which offered 5,500' to work with. With a thank you and a laugh followed by a quick run up and 94W was in the air and pointed east again. Sometime after takeoff the tower passed me to departure and the controller asked my intended heading. With a reply of 090 the climb to 7,500' continued. Well, here's the straight skinny of this next part of the story. I blew right through 7,500' and realized it at around 7,700'. While correcting for this oversight my traffic scope started yelling at me with news that there is another airplane in the area. Shoot, 7,300' now and if I wasn't alone this would be embarrassing. About this time the departure controller asked, “N94W what altitude are you going to fly?” Instantly I was embarrassed and thought that he was making fun of me but then he called the other plane that the traffic scope had warned about and told him there was an RV at 7,500' heading east about a mile off of his nose. The timing just lined up perfectly with bad airmanship to make a memorable moment for the trip. The rest of the flight went smoothly and flying over Amarillo made me think of the George Strait song “Amarillo by morning.” Before I knew it, the time came to start a gentle let down to get under the DFW Class B. Airliners were starting to show up in the sky and they were pointing the way to the Dallas area. Something else happened also, but where exactly I don't remember. The land below me started to look like it is inhabitable again and had the appearance that there is water available. In fact there were lakes which were something I hadn't seen in hours. Off my wing was the Texas Motor Speedway and things were starting to happen fast now. There wasn't a lot of time to sight see as the entry into the pattern and a landing at 52F was just a couple of minutes away. Proud of the accomplishment and flying such a vast distance settled in as I flew short final and then “WHAM.” Thankfully correcting for the bounce and the terrible landing eased the embarrassment of trying to drive the gear legs up thru the airplane. I wondered if anybody had seen this terrible landing which was truly the first bad one since finishing this plane. Oh well, all is good and I made it.