I must have been 10 years old when my dad piled us into a twin-engine Piper Aztec and set off from South Florida for the World's Fair in Spokane, Washington. I have vivid memories of that summer trip, including a low IFR approach into some Indiana town. I also remember a terrifying close-up vision of the steep, snow-covered Tetons, which loomed in the window during the tight turn from downwind to base at Jackson Hole, Wyoming's airport.
Perhaps that trip was the genesis of the wanderlust that constantly plagues me - hard to say. Before I was old enough to fly myself from Florida to Boston, Massachusetts for college, I'd already landed - as pilot-in-command - at ports as distant as Key West and Washington National. I love the feeling as I squint into the distant horizon and recognize landmarks I've never seen other than on a chart or in a photograph. I've even been lost (briefly) and have known the calm voice of a flight service specialist who, without even having to break out his DF equipment, helped me get "found." I know, beyond all, that the core of why I love flying is tied up in those long hours behind the stick - and the thrill of landing on runways my wheels have never touched before.
Recent conversations lead me to believe I'm not alone. Dayton Daily News writer and pilot Tim Gaffney talked his editors into funding his cross-country extravaganza - a documentary flight from Dayton, Ohio to Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, to Edwards Air Force Base, California, to Oshkosh, Wisconsin. He and photographer/pilot Ty Greenlees took off on July 20, 1997, for the VFR-only tour in Gaffney's AA-1B Grumman.
"We weren't just on a flying trip, we were on a reporting trip," says Gaffney. "A lot of times our days weren't done until midnight. That took its toll on us."
The trip's lowest point for both Gaffney and Greenlees was when they got behind schedule early and tried to catch up while crossing the vast expanses of Texas, New Mexico, and the Arizona desert. Thunderstorms and headwinds put their goal for the day, Tucson, out of reach. They had friends in Tucson, but the friends would have to wait.
If he could repeat the trip, "I'd give us more time," Gaffney says. Now that he's flown a long distance in a small airplane, he knows to expect delays, and high and low points. He suggests that you choose your copilot well, because you're traveling in close quarters (he and Greenlees are still friends, by the way).
Stay in your weight and balance limits and calculate density altitude and performance before takeoff (not after you've terrified yourself by barely getting aloft). It's also a good idea to pick airports carefully for fuel, services (what if something breaks?), transportation, and of course, nearby attractions. Big airports typically have all that, but don't bypass small ones; they promise a taste of history and a lot of hospitality, in most cases.
Gaffney cautions cross-country flyers to not to get "GPS lazy." Always cross-check it with VOR/DME navigation and old-fashioned pilotage.
In the end, Gaffney and Greenlees made all their press deadlines (even arriving at Oshkosh with enough pull to land during the air show) and totaled 62 Hobbs hours, 6,500 miles, and 45 landings.
When Gaffney told me that, I smiled and looked out the window by my desk, which framed a sky of perfect cobalt blue.
Why am I sitting here talking to him, I thought. I'm a pilot, really, not a writer. Now I'm inspired. So I just need a gimmick and a sponsor, I guess. Mr. Editor? Oh, Mr. Ed-i-tor?.
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