Pilotage

If you believe the buzz, New York City's mean streets are smiling. The city now is an inviting place for Middle Americans to visit. The proof of the transformation is in Noo Yawkuhs themselves. They've long been famous for purposefully striding the sidewalks with heads bent, scrupulously avoiding eye contact. I call it light-IFR walking — they've got ground contact, but no forward visibility. Apparently, downcast New Yorkers develop some sort of internal traffic alert and collision avoidance system that keeps them from constantly colliding with each other. Well, things have changed. They still purposefully stride the sidewalks, but now it's with heads up and on a swivel. New Yorkers now go VFR, and even they are squinting from the brightness of the polish on the Big Apple. Or so goes the buzz.

Given New York's present tourist-friendly reputation, my wife and son and I decided to pay a visit. After living for the past five years in the Midwest and now Southwest Florida, we were ready for a dose of oversized civilization — tall buildings, high culture, lofty prices. But first we had to get there, in our airplane. One thing you can go to the bank with when you're flying in the Northeast is that you'll be given different routings than the ones you'd prefer to fly. I figured I was as likely to experience GPS-direct clearances as I was a round-trip tailwind. So, I bit the bullet and carefully constructed an all-airways routing to New York that had me flanking the Washington-Baltimore area, and then Philadelphia, to the east. That should keep me well clear of any busy arrival and departure corridors, I reasoned.

Wrong. I got my first "Five-Four-Yankee, I have a change in your routing when you're ready to copy" call while I was still south of Baltimore. What can you do? VFR wasn't an option, seeing as how I was already immersed in clouds. "Ready to copy," I replied.

The penalty wasn't too bad. I overflew the Patuxent River Naval Air Station, and I would have enjoyed spying on the Naval Flight Test Center based there if the clouds hadn't totally obscured the airport. Despite severe weather that was forcing airplanes to divert from Washington-area airports, flight watch and my friendly approach controller assured me that there was no convective activity or heavy precip along my route.

They obviously couldn't discern the moderate turbulence (AIM definition: "Food service and walking are difficult") that was giving my wife second, third, and fourth thoughts about making this trip in a small airplane.

Philly Approach gave me a second change in routing, a real head-scratcher that had me bracketing my course to Princeton, New Jersey (an interim stop to see a friend), before finally closing in on it. Fortunately, I broke out of the clouds soon after accepting the new clearance and was able to proceed VFR direct to the airport. Next stop, New York — but which airport?

Teterboro was the closest general aviation airport to our Manhattan destination, but it's thick with corporate activity and corporate prices. I'd also have to negotiate with Newark approach and its Class B airspace to get there. Newark International was convenient, too, but at an astonishing cost of $70 a night to park with Signature Flight Support, plus a $35 ramp fee (waived if I bought at least 50 gallons of fuel).

The choice of New York-area airports was made for us. We had special (also known as cheap) arrangements for ground transportation into New York City, and the transportation provider said that Linden, New Jersey, would be the most convenient airport at which to rendezvous. It had its good points. I could fly VFR-direct from Princeton and not have to deal with ATC as long as I remained below the base of Newark's Class B, which is 800 feet msl over Linden. This was a great example of how a small general aviation airport can relieve nearby airline and busy corporate airports, as well as area ATC facilities, of light aircraft traffic.

Even so, I wasn't sure what to expect. When I mentioned to the fueler at Princeton that I was headed to Linden, he dissed it for its gritty industrial location (ironically — or not — there's an intersection south of Linden named Grity), adding that the airport sometimes doesn't have fuel available. I've never landed there — just seen the Linden exit signs on the turnpike. Let's just say that in that part of New Jersey, the Garden State looks more like the Petroleum Storage Facility State.

But when I turned left downwind for Linden's Runway 27 and looked the airport over, I liked what I saw. Runway markings looked freshly painted, the southwest ramp was thick with parked airplanes, helicopters were buzzing about, and there was a lot of construction activity going on. It looked like a happening place.

It is. Linden has been brought back, way back, from the brink of closure. Built during World War II to support the Grumman Wildcats manufactured in the General Motors plant across the street, Linden was targeted in the 1980s by a mayor who wanted to close it and see the land developed for commercial use. This was in spite of federal deed and airport improvement grant stipulations that the land remain in use as an airport.

A group of activist airport users and tenants, in conjunction with AOPA, successfully fought off the political attacks until 1991, when a former mayor who was more open to constructive solutions was reelected. One of those activists was Paul Dudley, who had been an executive of an area company that based an airplane and helicopter at the airport. Dudley now is director of Linden Airport and president of the company that leases the airport from the city.

The Linden effort provided an example of the power of local support and involvement, an approach that has proven highly effective at other endangered fields across the country. Those experiences eventually led to AOPA's new nationwide program, the Airport Support Network, that provides local volunteers with the information tools to monitor events at their airports and form airport support groups.

Dudley explained to me that a deal was worked out involving the closing of the crosswind runway at Linden and the sale of some 70 acres on the north side fronting a busy highway. The land will be used for commercial development, but first the old FBO building and the hangars that have been there since the airport was built must be torn down. In exchange, the city has agreed to the building of new FBO offices and a storage hangar on the south side, plus two T-hangar buildings. That was the construction that I noticed when I flew in. The way Dudley sees it, a brand-new airport with a brand-new future is being built on the south side of Linden's Runway 9/27.

Linden was a nice surprise. At $7 a night for parking and just under $2.22 a gallon total for fuel (yes, they have fuel), it was a good, inexpensive near-New York airport at which to overnight.

Oh yes, New York City also surprised us. You can believe the buzz. The gloom has lifted. New York, and New Yorkers, are VFR.