Day 8 continued…

Annoyingly, it took nearly another half an hour to get through to file a flight plan thanks to the new system punishing those who don’t file online.

We gassed up at Cedar Rapids, then pressed on to Minneapolis. MSP approach guided us through the south end of their space and warned us a couple of times of traffic conflicts we already saw on ADS-B. Tina, as she had over the entire trip, proved very adept at spotting other aircraft, especially with help from ADS-B.

Flying Cloud tower cleared us to land on runway 10. Once off the runway, ground directed us to the FBO where we rolled in and shut down. We were tired as we parked the Cav for the night. We had a car waiting for us which the FBO staff brought out to the plane for us. It was an Alfa Romeo SUV, which really impressed Tina.

Being so late into town, we didn’t have much time to do more than get supper and take a short drive into the city. I guess it gives us something to come back for.

Day 9

“Experimental Bravo Quebec Romeo, Flying Cloud tower. You’re clear of my zone, radar service terminates, frequency change approved. Squawk VFR and remain clear of controlled airspace.”

“Roger that, ma’am, and thanks for your help today,” I replied, as I switched the transponder to 1200.

It was a beautiful morning leaving Minneapolis. We still had several miles to go to clear the Mode C veil, but we were well below any Class B controlled airspace. I angled the Cav a little to the right to straddle the course line for Jamestown, ND, our first stop 250 NM from Flying Cloud.

Minnesota’s crops were still surprisingly green, a marked contrast to the golden colour of Alberta’s and Saskatchewan’s crops when we started our adventure more than a week prior. We wondered how late in the year harvest begins in this part of the world.

The miles ticked away below us while our ground speed steadily dropped. When we crossed into North Dakota south of Fargo it was showing only 100 to 105 knots. The weather prophecy had foretold this so it wasn’t a big surprise, just an irritation.

On the other hand, the fact that the Cav can have a 20 to 25 knot headwind and still cover ground at better than 100 knots is pretty pleasing. We were still flying at a pretty good speed.

The bigger problem was how we were heading back into the smoke and poor visibility. When we landed at Jamestown vis was back down to about four miles. Minot was reporting only three.

We fueled, filed and plotted at Jamestown and lit out for Estevan, SK, where we could land to clear customs. Tina and I both now have CANPASS, which allows pilots and crew to clear at a greater number of CBSA approved airports. Not having CANPASS proved to be troublesome in June because it prevented Bob and Carl and I from clearing at Lethbridge. I recommend getting it since it’s only about forty bucks for five years.

The smoke worsened as we continued northwest, so did the daytime turbulence. The wind remained consistent, though, still giving us an average ground speed of 103 knots.

South of Minot, skirting their control zone, we saw a target on ADS-B. It had a different call sign than the typical registration number or airline designation that most US and Canadian aircraft have. Tina was a bit bored and set about trying to find the plane up above in the smoke. It was 3000 feet higher and I told her she’d be lucky to spot it in such poor visibility. Undeterred, she leaned forward, splitting her attention between the display screen and the windscreen while I concentrated on flying.

“There it is!” she announced pointing excitedly. “It’s right above us. I think it’s a B- 52!”

“It might be a KC-135 tanker from Minot Air Force Base,” I replied. I peered up to the right and saw it quite clearly.

“Oh, you’re right,” I exclaimed. “It is a B-52! Is that ever cool!” I’ve only ever seen flying B-52’s three times in my life, and two of those times were that summer. For an airplane nerd, that’s pretty cool. I’m also pleased that this airplane nerd’s wife recognized a B-52.

The enormous bomber, its flaps deployed, tracked 90 degrees to our course, obviously on a left base for the runway at Minot AFB. Would we get any of its wake turbulence? I wondered. In all the thermal turbulence we had, would we even know the difference?

The Canadian border neared and I was again happy to have gotten a trans- border squawk code before leaving the ground. A few minutes later we landed at Estevan in a gusty west wind, but at least it was straight down runway 26. Good thing Regina has an east-west runway, too, I thought.

As we pulled up to the fuel pumps a couple of CBSA officers appeared from the airport lounge building. Clearing with them was easy and pleasant. The airport attendant, Miles, was also really helpful, loaning me his phone so I could close our flight plan, and helping me fuel the Cav for the last leg to Regina. This is one of the few general aviation airports in Canada I’ve encountered where, a) service exists at all, and b) service is as good as US FBOs. I recommend stopping at Estevan. We swapped phone cards back to our Canadian ones, filed for Regina and were back in the air. Tina and I were happy to be in Canada and happy, too, that our day would be over soon.

The visibility steadily improved as we flew northwest, easily back up to 10 miles or better. Our ground speed was up a little, too, since the wind had taken a more westerly tack instead of being right on our nose like it had been for most of the day.

I monitored Regina tower from about 20 miles out as the controller landed and departed planes on runway 31. She advised the wind was 260 at 22 gusting 30 knots. Why weren’t they using runway 26? Hmmm…

Of course, I dialed up the ATIS and almost wished I hadn’t. Runway 26 was closed. I was looking now at landing us with a minimum 20 knot crosswind component. The most I could recall landing with in the past was about 17 knots on a slippery runway at Kirkby Field.

Inside the control zone, tower had us do a pair of 360 turns for spacing with other traffic, then she lined us up for final approach.

“Bravo Quebec Romeo, cleared to land runway 31. Wind 260, 24 gusting 32.”
“Cleared to land, Bravo Quebec Romeo.”

Okay, I’m going to just outright brag here. My approach and landing were excellent in that damned wind, easily and ironically, the best one of the whole trip. I had the controls to the stops at touchdown, but I set down with a whisper touch and only a little bit of fish-tailing. It helped that I only used one notch of flaps. It’s cool that Tina was impressed, too. I retracted the flaps as soon as the wheels touched and concentrated on keeping the left wing down and the tail straight. “Bravo Quebec Romeo, can you expedite clearing the runway for traffic behind?” “Negative, ma’am,” I replied. “I have to keep it a bit slower with this wind.” She didn’t sound surprised as she instructed me to turn right on taxiway Mike and contact ground. The Cav wavered a bit in the wind as we finished with the runway, then I made the turn and switched to ground.

We soon had the Cav tied down and secured outside the Regina Flying Club, then we were on our way to our hotel. One more day to go.

Day 10

I was definitely looking forward to home. We had only a couple more legs to get there. Bob Kirkby texted the previous night, asking for details of our last day. I let him know we planned to be at Swift Current by 11:30 for a bit of gas, then we’d burn for CFX8. Bob promised to join us there for the last leg. I thought that was great.

I told Gary Abel our plans, too, but he didn’t commit to meeting us. I hoped he would.

As soon as we cleared Regina’s control zone the visibility dropped once more, back down to about 3 to 3½ miles. I was well and truly sick of the smoke by this point. It had curtailed a lot of flying over the entire summer and ruined a lot of the scenery on this adventure.

We slipped past Moose Jaw’s control zone, the north side of which is conveniently bounded by the Trans Canada Highway. I remarked to Tina how glad I was we were flying to Calgary instead of driving.

As we pulled up to the fuel pumps at Swift Current, something brilliantly red approached from the airport lounge building. I smiled realizing it was Gary in his redder-than-anything RV-7.

Tina wandered to the lounge because she wasn’t able to just head to the back side of the fuel tanks like us boys can.

As I fueled the Cav, Gary reported he’d been there an hour already and he wondered when Bob would arrive. Tina and I saw him on ADS-B from about 80 NM away from us as we neared Swift Current, so I expected him any minute. Sure enough, as Tina returned from the lounge, the Cherokee droned over from the west.

What a treat that Gary and Bob came to meet us. It’s a pretty good day when your friends come to fly home with you on the last leg of a big flying trip.

Tina and I departed ahead of Bob on runway 31, easing into a left turn and climbing for home. Gary planned to depart a few minutes later. With his speed he could leave a half hour after us and still easily beat us home.

I was happy to be wing to wing with Bob again, just as we’ve been for so many airborne adventures. We chatted comfortably as we flew on. I’d occasionally relay comments from Tina since her side of the intercom doesn’t carry through to the radio. I started wondering where Gary was.

Turns out he had an issue with his throttle cable sticking. He texted that he used a bit of engine oil to lube it and get it sliding smoothly again. A very creative solution, I thought. He was about an hour delayed leaving Swift.

Bob’s Cherokee 235 off the Cavalier’s wing on the last leg to home.
by Stu Simpson

Just east of the Alberta border something strange caught my eye. The railroad track southwest of a little hamlet called Golden Prairie was filled for nearly ten miles with stationary rail cars. They looked like potash cars, but I don’t know for sure. There were no engines involved, just the cars stored there for miles on end. A very unusual sight.

We gladly crossed back into Alberta, bumping and jostling in the midday thermals. Tina appreciated sitting on the shaded side of the Cav’s cockpit, but the sun didn’t bother me any on my side. She marveled at the barren and desolate land between Medicine Hat and Brooks. There’s nothing there but oil wells and gopher holes, and I suspect even the gophers have to pack a lunch. By the time we reached Lake Newell, Gary texted that he was back in the air and making straight for his home base at High River. I asked him to please let me know when he landed. We all like to look out for each other like that. Eagle Lake, Strathmore, Langdon – all the familiar landmarks of home eased into view as Bob and I switched over to 123.4. My landing was pretty good and I felt relieved as we rolled off the runway and spun around to stop in front of my hangar. We’d had an awesome trip, but it was equally awesome to be home.

Conclusion

Here’s the route we followed, in case you’d like to plug it into your favorite flight planner:

CFX8 500933N1111455W 500942N1103535W CYYN KXWA S25 KBIS KMDS KDSM KVIH KOLV 1H0 395717N0910407W KUIN KALO KFCM KJMS 480808N1012603W CYEN CYQR 502731N1054732W CYYN 501149N1103747W 501437N1111919W CFX8 The trip totaled 3025 NM, 3481 SM, or 5602 km, and about 28 flying hours.

We visited 17 different airports, and flew into or over two provinces and ten states. I never totaled the fuel used, but we made the most of every litre we burned.

I can’t really find the words to express what it means to me to have shared this epic journey with my wife. Tina’s a wonderful copilot.

She helped with things like radio frequencies, accommodations, ground transport, snacks and water en route, and even took the stick briefly once or twice.

She’s tremendously adept at spotting other aircraft, even if they’re smaller than a B-52. She doesn’t get airsick and she’s also pretty funny, both of which add a lot to these trips.

I love her deeply and I’d happily fly anywhere in the Cav with her again. Tina and the Cav at Kirkby Field. Where are we going next?

Tina and the Cav at Kirkby Field. Where are we going next? by Stu Simpson