Coast to Coast

My wife, Betty, and I were discussing vacation ideas when I received a telephone call from my friend Bill Stoner, the owner of Advanced Helicopter Concepts in Frederick, Maryland. Previously, I had mentioned to him that if he ever needed a Robinson helicopter ferried from the factory in Torrance, California, to customer, I would like to help out. His customer, he explained, had purchased a Robinson R44 and might need someone to help him fly it home to Pennsylvania. The customer's name was Michael Roth, an attorney from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania.

Roth and I talked on the phone several times. He explained that he wanted to go on the trip so he could get the flight instruction required by SFAR 73. Because of the aircraft's unique flying characteristics, the FAA requires additional training to act as pilot in command of Robinson helicopters. But Roth said his law practice was thriving and his court schedule might not allow it. I told him that if he could not go I would take my wife, make the voyage our vacation, and give him all the instruction he needed when we delivered the helicopter to him. Roth called back several weeks later and said he was too busy and wished Betty and me a great trip.

I had been wanting to fly the new four-seat R44 Raven on a long cross-country journey. Robinson Helicopter recently introduced the Raven, which has hydraulically boosted flight controls in place of the electric trim system on the original R44 (see " Room for Four, Speed for All," June 1993 Pilot and " News Hawk," December 1998 Pilot). To truly appreciate the benefits of this improvement requires a basic understanding of helicopter rotor systems. As the rotor blades spin they are subjected to changing aerodynamic forces that feed back through the control linkage to the flight controls. These forces, and consequentially the vibration levels felt in the flight controls, increase with the speed of the helicopter. On models with hydraulically boosted controls, hydraulic servos absorb these forces and block any feedback to the controls, resulting in a smooth feel.

Frank Robinson wasn't convinced that commercially available servo actuators would meet his requirements for weight and reliability, so he and his engineers designed their own. He now manufactures them in a special clean room to tolerances in the millionths of an inch. Robinson's actuator uses a rotational design input instead of the typical linear style that is prone to leaks. Robinson says that his system is designed to last 2,200 hours with minimal maintenance and without leaking. That's a bold claim, considering that in 18 years as a professional helicopter pilot I have never seen an actuator that didn't leak some. Nevertheless, with temperatures in the California desert higher than 100 degrees, this trip would be the supreme test of endurance and reliability. Add to that the fact that Betty was four months pregnant, and the R44 was about to get the ultimate critic's review for comfort.

Our first day started with a perfect Southern California morning, sunny with the temperature hovering around 80 degrees. At 11 a.m. we departed Torrance's Zamperini Field westbound and joined the Pacific Coast just north of Palos Verdes. Turning south along the coast, we enjoyed the view until just south of Long Beach, where we turned east and began to thread our way through the congested L.A. Basin. I had spent some time teaching my wife how to read and interpret a sectional chart, and this was her baptism of fire. Other than occasionally asking what certain symbols meant, she did a great job finding frequencies, identifying landmarks, and suggesting headings. Once clear of L.A.'s airspace we started climbing toward the high desert.

About one hour after departing the factory we landed at our first and only fuel stop for the day, Barstow-Daggett Airport. On the ramp the temperature was approaching 100 degrees, and the density altitude was 5,200 feet. The R44's hydraulic controls performed splendidly, and the Lycoming O-540's oversized oil cooler kept the oil temperature well below the limit. However, the hard part was yet to come, because from here we were heading to Death Valley, California, our destination for the night. The flight through the valley was breathtaking and as we descended to land, the temperature climbed and finally settled at 109 degrees on the surface. After shutting down the R44, I couldn't help but open the cowling and peek at the hydraulic servos. Not a drop of fluid anywhere. Very well, I thought, but the trip is not over yet.

We had called ahead and reserved a room at the famous Furnace Creek Inn. Toni Justin, the inn's manager, was exceedingly accommodating. He sent a van to pick us up from the Furnace Creek Airport for the two-mile drive to the resort. The airport is owned by the National Park Service and is the lowest airport in the United States, at 211 feet below mean sea level. Even though the sectional chart shows that no fuel or services are available, 100LL can be obtained by calling Furnace Creek Chevron at 760/786-2232. Our stay was relaxing, and the resort was the perfect place to enjoy the natural beauty and serenity of the desert.

At noon the following day we departed for Las Vegas. If we had thought it out better, we may have left early in the morning, because the midday sun was hot. Luckily, the desert heat is dry and my wife had brought a spray bottle filled with water. Every few minutes she would spray a mist of water, and we would experience the effectiveness of evaporative cooling. The cabin remained warm but comfortable, even though the outside air temperature at 500 feet was 105 degrees. Climbing to a much higher altitude to cool off was an option, but the view from down low was exquisite.

Leaving Death Valley, we headed east, flying between Pyramid Peak (6,703 feet msl) and Funeral Peak (6,384 feet msl). Climbing to 2,500 feet msl, we overflew Death Valley Junction and turned north to explore some sand dunes. Continuing north, we joined U.S. 95 at Amargosa Valley. Following the highway brought us around the Spring Mountains (11,915 feet msl) and led us directly to Las Vegas. Now the only choice was where to land; North Las Vegas Airport is more general aviation-oriented but farther from the famous strip of casinos, while Signature Aviation at McCarran International Airport is right on the strip but geared toward corporate aviation. Inbound, I contacted Signature Aviation by radio and asked for fuel prices and landing fees. The employee explained Signature's "weekend takeoff program." From midnight Friday to midnight Sunday, the company offered a 50-cents-per-gallon discount on 100LL and waived the handling/landing fee with a modest minimum fuel purchase. In the case of the R44 the minimum amount was 18 gallons, and we decided it was a good deal.

Since we were flying low, I contacted McCarran Tower directly and requested landing at Signature Aviation. The controller was accommodating and told us that if we wanted to overfly the strip, it was approved. I promptly complied, and we slowed down to enjoy the spectacle and spot the casinos we wanted to visit that night.

Leaving Las Vegas early the next morning our plan was to explore Lake Meade, follow the Colorado River south, and then turn east and be in Tucson, Arizona, for dinner. Again, the temperature was higher than 100 degrees, and there was not a cloud in the sky. The deep blue water of the Colorado River looked inviting as we flew over the river gambling town of Laughlin, Nevada, and farther south to Lake Havasu City, Arizona. The latter is the home of the London Bridge; it connects a small island to the town. Less than 30 miles to the south was our first fuel stop. After three days of extreme heat, the R44 was doing well, and I still hadn't seen a drop of hydraulic fluid. The helicopter was living up to its creator's claim.

With tailwinds for most of the day and an average groundspeed of 135 knots we arrived at Tucson International at 4 p.m. After we parked at the helipad, two U.S. Army Chinooks landed and taxied over next to us. These are large tandem-rotor helicopters used for heavy lifting, and they towered over the R44. The Army pilots said they didn't want to land too close and blow the little helicopter over. Their aircraft have a maximum gross weight of more than 50,000 pounds and move a tremendous amount of air, so I appreciated their courtesy. The next morning we hovered by the Chinooks and departed for Midland, Texas.

After roving the New Mexico desert at 100 feet and 120 kt, we stopped in El Paso, Texas, for fuel. The field elevation at El Paso International was 3,956 feet and the outside air temperature was 99 degrees. I calculated the density altitude to be 7,600 feet. I very carefully brought the helicopter to a hover and landed on the ramp. While the landing was not a problem, I planned to take on full fuel to cross the Texas high plains and, with all our baggage and gear, the helicopter would weigh only 200 pounds less than its maximum gross weight of 2,400 pounds. High density altitudes can have a profound effect on piston helicopter performance. Careful attention must be paid to the amount of engine power and main rotor rpm available. I lifted the R44 into a hover, and it easily handled the thin air as we headed out across Texas.

The last 30 minutes of our flight to Midland International were at night. Midland Tower cleared us directly to the ramp and as our landing light illuminated the area, my wife and I noticed a bunch of people on the ramp unloading two big Army helicopters. Could they be the same guys from Tucson? we wondered. As we were shutting down, we got the answer as several Army guys walked over and asked if we had departed Tucson that morning. They introduced themselves as the pilots and explained they were a special operations unit.

The pilots said they departed Tucson shortly after us and had just landed about 30 minutes before we did. They were surprised and intrigued by the R44. After answering many questions about the helicopter, I offered them the opportunity to fly it the following morning before we left. One guy said sure, but added that he had never flown a piston helicopter and was not sure how the throttle worked. No problem, I told him—this helicopter not only has boosted flight controls, but a throttle governor as well. He said he would love to give it a try and would meet us in the morning. Since we were all going to the same hotel, he said that if we didn't mind riding with 20 or 30 Army guys, we could hitch a lift in their van.

The next morning, the Army pilot flew the R44 around the pattern a few times and did an excellent job. Indeed, I never had to touch the controls. He said he was impressed and thoroughly enjoyed flying the R44. He added that he wished he could return the favor, but it just wasn't possible. In fact, he had to make a phone call to get authorization for me to photograph the MH-47E Chinook, and no personnel or the aircraft's tail number could be shown.

Our next stop was the Garland, Texas, heliport, just northeast of Dallas. We were stopping there to meet Ken and Connie Pyatt, the owners of Sky Helicopters. They manage the heliport, operate a flight training school, and are the dealers who handled the sale of the helicopter. They had invited us to stop by, check out their operation, and have dinner. Even their salutary reputation didn't prepare us for the incredible hospitality they showed us. They checked the helicopter over, changed the oil, and washed it. They had made hotel arrangements for us, and later we went out for a great Texas steak dinner.

As we were leaving Texas the next morning, the hot and dry air was giving way to less heat and more humidity. This was spurring strong thunderstorms along the entire southeastern half of the country, typical for May. We stopped in Little Rock, Arkansas, for lunch and to check the weather radar. Lines of intense storms were north of us and moving east. We decided that we could track between the storms and, if we picked up the pace and got to Nashville, we should be in the clear for the night. My wife's newly found navigation skills came through marvelously, and we slipped into Nashville International before dark and ahead of some building cells.

Since we did not have access to a hangar, we decided to keep moving the following day and make it to our home in Baltimore. Although that would put us at home a day earlier than planned, it got the helicopter far enough north to be clear of any storms. We landed at Tipton Airfield, about five miles south of Baltimore-Washington International Airport, at 5 p.m. The airfield was a former Army facility that closed; it just recently opened as a general aviation airport. The folks there were friendly and gave us a ride to our house. After a day of rest, I flew the helicopter on the short trip north to its owner and, as promised, checked him out to act as pilot in command.

Having flown this trip many times in Robinson helicopters, the hydraulically boosted controls made the flight far less fatiguing and more enjoyable. In addition, Betty gave the R44 a thumbs up for comfort. She had spent some time flying the helicopter during the trip and said that although the flight controls felt smooth, she preferred navigating. She didn't mind holding the controls if I needed to do something, but given the choice she would rather be studying the chart or fiddling with the GPS. Moreover, it was a thrilling adventure, and we agreed that the fun is not over yet—because we still get to tell our unborn daughter about her first helicopter trip.

Links to additional information about Robinson helicopters may be found on AOPA Online ( www.aopa.org/pilot/links/links0009.shtml). Tim McAdams is a professional helicopter pilot and a contributor to Pilot.