Waypoints

Editor in Chief Thomas Haines has used general aviation for personal and business travel for more than 15 years.

To fly or not to fly? Depending on the logistics, distances, and weather conditions, sometimes it's an easy decision. Sometimes not.

This day I left the house for the office with the decision still not made. AOPA Expo in Philadelphia was about a three-hour drive or a 45-minute flight. I had a full tank of gas in the car and full tanks in the airplane. The plan was to work half a day in the office and then head to Philly. If I drove, I could step out of my vehicle at the hotel — no bothering with a cab and I'd have wheels if I needed them, although I didn't think I would given the convention center's downtown location. Driving over didn't seem so bad, but I dreaded the thought of driving back on Sunday morning after having been away from home for five days. Three hours in the car would seem like an eternity when I'd rather be home. But if the weather turned bad and I was delayed flying home — I'd be just as frustrated.

Flying over meant catching a cab from either Philadelphia International or one of the satellite airports, but also meant not having to worry about parking downtown.

As lunchtime rolled around, I was still undecided when a colleague called and reported major backups on Interstate 95 between Baltimore and Philadelphia. The drive was more like four hours. Decision made.

I checked weather, filed a flight plan, and walked out of my office at Frederick Municipal Airport at 1:15 p.m. Thirty-five minutes later I was airborne. Forty-three minutes later I was on the ramp at International, landing just behind AOPA General Counsel John Yodice. Inside Atlantic FBO I ran into Cole Loftus, whom I had met last winter while flying skiplanes in Michigan. Cole had just landed in a Cessna Cardinal, arriving from the Chicago area. The three of us shared a cab. Thirty minutes after landing I was at the hotel.

No waiting at the Marriott for check-in and I was soon in my room. Two hours after leaving my office in Frederick I was back online at the hotel answering e-mails and reviewing material for AOPA ePilot as if I were still in the office. General aviation hits a home run.

Sunday's return proved equally as efficient, especially given the spectacular weather that blessed Expo this year — the three nicest days all fall. I admit that because of a cab driver my door-to-door time was closer to what it might have been driving. The cab kept stalling in traffic and the driver claimed to know where Atlantic was at Philadelphia International, but we ended up at the main terminal nonetheless. "You mean it's not at this terminal?" he asked incredulously, despite my numerous assurances that it was not at the main terminal. It's hardly the first time I've run into a hack who didn't know where the general aviation terminal was.

Decisions, decisions

Some flight decisions don't come so easily, and the consequences of a mistake can mean more than just a delay in getting home.

This summer my family and I launched through fog for Erie, Pennsylvania, to meet relatives for a day at Waldameer Park & Water World, one of the last of the truly family-owned, family-oriented small amusement parks. Once the fog cleared, we were set for several spectacularly clear summer days throughout the entire mid-Atlantic and Northeast. Apparently Mother Nature doesn't always pay attention to the forecasts.

As we motored northwest the fog mostly burned off and Erie was reporting broken clouds at about 3,500 feet with visibility of about five miles in mist. However, as I joined the approach frequency I could hear aircraft setting up for and flying the approach to Runway 6. The controller reported that a fog bank was approaching the airport from over Lake Erie and they were in the process of switching runways. He vectored us to the northeast and turned us westbound along the lakeshore just as we intercepted the localizer for the ILS to Runway 24. He then handed me off to the tower.

In an attempt to keep the localizer indicator centered I turned more to the right and found myself headed toward the middle of Lake Erie rather than along the shoreline, which is how it seemed the approach should go. The Garmin GNS 530 clearly showed me north of the magenta line representing the extended runway centerline. Just about then the red flag on the HSI dropped and I noticed that the Garmin no longer displayed the identifier for the localizer in the little window below the frequency. I called the tower and the controller acknowledged that the localizer had been mistakenly shut down while they were changing runways. By then I had already turned back toward the magenta line. He gave me a quick vector to reintercept. About then I spotted the airport. It was clear at the field, but the big slug of fog was surreptitiously drifting in off the lake like some menacing alligator about to strike a shorebird.

The fun begins

We enjoyed a relaxing day at the park and spent the next day exploring Presque Isle State Park, a seven-mile peninsula that stretches out into Lake Erie and is home to some of the most beautiful lake beaches in the world. Our plan was to return home the next day, a Saturday. Following my time-honored general aviation travel plan, Saturday was the planned return day in order to give us flexibility to return Sunday if weather caused us a problem Saturday.

The only catch this particular weekend was the Commemorative Air Force airshow at Frederick. It would close the airport from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. both days. Our plan was to leave Erie late afternoon Saturday and arrive back at Frederick right after the airport reopened. However, as the day progressed, lines of thunderstorms cropped up from western New York down through central Pennsylvania. Others marched across West Virginia, southern Pennsylvania, and Maryland, shutting down the airshow for several hours. By the end of the day, they were not dissipating, but seemed to be intensifying in some areas.

I studied the radar displays at North Coast Air, the FBO at Erie, hoping for a break in the action. There were gaps in the lines, but certainly no clear shot to the southeast. Not leaving Saturday meant we would have to depart very early Sunday morning in order to land before 8 a.m. when the airport closed again for the air show. It would also mean spending another night in a hotel or an hour drive down the interstate and back to spend the night with my always gracious in-laws who were with us. The storms were such that I couldn't reposition the airplane to an airport nearer them. Agonizingly I finally threw in the towel and we drove to my in-laws.

We rolled out of the sack at about 3 a.m. Sunday and my father-in-law drove us back to the airport. Even then a few thunderstorms lurked in the darkness over central Pennsylvania.

We took off from Erie at 6 a.m. just as the tower opened and just as the sun peeked over the lake. We dodged a few clouds and leveled off at 7,000 feet above some wispy clouds. Ahead, I could see the buildups just east of our course, the storm's last gasp. We climbed to 9,000 feet and diverted a little more southerly to miss the now isolated storm. Ninety minutes after takeoff we touched down at Frederick just as the airport was waking up to host another airshow day, one that promised much better weather than Saturday's.

On trips like this it's easy to ask, "Why bother with general aviation?" But in the end, our door-to-door time even with the hour drive up and down the highway to the in-laws was still far less than the 7.5-hour drive each way. In fact, it is one of those trips we probably would not have made if driving were our only option. Instead, we ended up with a nice three-day summer vacation and a lot of memories, not just of the stay but of coming and going as well — another benefit of GA flying.

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