Waypoints

Editor in Chief Thomas B. Haines owns a Beechcraft Bonanza for personal and business flying.

I'm told that some people travel all over the country to visit different shopping malls. To them shopping is a vacation — or at least visiting different stores in different settings is a vacation. Fortunately for me and our checkbook, my wife is not among that crowd and I most certainly am not. Thanks to online shopping, I don't have to go to the mall more than once or twice a year. Even then, it's to walk in, buy what I want, and leave. None of this bouncing from store to store trying to find the best price.

Home improvement and electronics stores, well, that's another story. I can poke around there for hours and come home with a number of good ideas, if not some gadgets as well.

I'm a bit like the fanatical shopper, however, when it comes to airports. I enjoy visiting airports — large and small — all over the country; all over the world, really. And I especially enjoy flying into new and different airports. The contrast from one to another never ceases to amaze me.

Over the years, I've been fortunate to fly into airports large and small in places as diverse as Russia, France, Germany, Finland, Switzerland, Canada, Mexico, the Bahamas, Greenland, Iceland, England, Scotland, and, of course, throughout the United States, and Alaska. I put Alaska in a separate category not because I didn't notice that whole statehood thing, but because the airports there are so diverse it warrants its own category.

What's most amazing about flying internationally is how similar it is to flying in the United States — from an air traffic control standpoint. There are certainly differences you need to be aware of — altitude changes occur relative to QNH in Europe, for example, and you had better understand what that means and where the transitions occur. And if you're in an "F" registered airplane in France (or Quebec, for that matter) the controllers will probably address you in French, regardless of what the International Civil Aviation Organization suggests. And yes, this is the voice of experience (and confusion) speaking here. My French is mostly limited to what might be found on a menu.

But despite these regional differences, calling up clearance and ground control and launching from or arriving at an international airport seems quite similar to operating at any U.S. airport.

You needn't, however, go to far-flung, exotic places to find interesting airports. They are everywhere. A couple of recent flights demonstrates the differences — yet similarities — between vastly different airports.

In September, I flew back to the Greenville Municipal Airport in northwestern Pennsylvania where I learned to fly to address the crowd at the Elbow Street Aviation second annual Lobster Fly-In. The event is promoted only within the aviation community because there is a limit to the number of lobsters you can stuff into a Beechcraft A36 Bonanza. With advance orders for the lobsters, owner Rod Paul flies to Maine the day before and picks up the crustaceans for their last and, presumably, first flight. On the appointed Saturday, hungry pilots fly in from all over the region to chow down on the lobsters, steaks, hamburgers, hot dogs, and whatever casseroles and salads everyone brings to share. A DJ entertains the crowd in the hangar. Outside, pilots challenge each other with the flour-bombing contest, hoping to hit the center of the target on the grass runway. At dusk, everyone sits back to enjoy a fireworks show on par with what you might see over the nation's capital on the Fourth of July — all launched just a couple of hundred yards away, so the booms are spectacular.

Landing at Greenville, you simply announce your arrival on the unicom and land on either the paved or the crossing grass runway, your choice. The fuel is cheap, the Pilot Mart inside the modest terminal building carries a robust inventory of pilot supplies with even more on its Web site, and the flight school is known throughout the region for churning out many pilots over the last three decades. My graduation from the esteemed institution does not seem to have tarnished its image all that much, but it has been more than 25 years.

Thanks in part to good management at the field, the small, financially distressed town has managed to keep the airport open and productive, something the community should be proud of.

Flying into Greenville is like flying into many small airports across the country. The facilities and services at some are better than others, but it's always a memorable experience.

Likewise, visits to major airports in general aviation airplanes are also memorable. A few weeks after the Lobster Fly-In, my family and I launched for Philadelphia — a four-hour car ride or a 40-minute flight. The plan was to spend a long weekend visiting the sites around Independence National Historic Park. Philadelphia International Airport is the closest airport to downtown. Our plan was to take a cab from the airport to our hotel near the park and then walk everywhere or use public transportation in order to avoid needing a rental car and the pricey downtown parking fees.

The weather was scuzzy, with a lingering low pressure system draping the area with low clouds and gentle rains for days. Shortly after takeoff from Frederick, Maryland, Potomac Approach handed us off to Philadelphia Approach. By then I already had the Philly weather — 1,800 overcast and 10 miles with winds out of the north at 16 gusting to 25. They were landing on runways 9 Right and 17.

About now you're wondering the same thing I was wondering — why not 35, directly into the wind? The approach controller asked me whether I'd prefer 9 Right or 17. His inflection suggested he knew that of the two I would prefer 9 — a crosswind as opposed to a tailwind. When I inquired about 35, he mumbled something about the conditions being below their minimum vectoring altitude for that runway — or I thought that was what I heard. There is a GPS approach to 35, but, undoubtedly, the airliners prefer the ILS to 17, even with a tailwind. I opted for 9, not wanting to clutter up the busy frequency with a long debate and knowing that with the wide, long runway, landing in the strong crosswind would not be a problem.

When vectoring me to intercept the localizer, the controller asked me what my airspeed would be once I leveled out. I volunteered 150 knots, knowing he'd prefer that to the 120 knots I might fly at a non-airline airport. As it was, he told several inbound Boeings to slow down to work me into the flow. I kept the speed up as long as possible and finally broke out at about 1,200 feet and five miles. The weather was headed downhill fast. I slipped onto the runway and made the first high-speed turnoff. All in all, the controllers were very accommodating.

As we taxied to the far side of the field, the kids were amazed at the size of the airliners — their first time visiting a large airline airport from the perspective of a GA airplane. Meanwhile, the visibility decreased and the rain started to fall. We could see the airliners emerging from the mist just short of the runway. We waited in line behind a quartet of de Havilland Dash 8s until one of them could take the active runway and allow us access to the GA ramp. The friendly staff at Atlantic Aviation called a cab for us before we even had the door of the airplane open and then proceeded to help us with our gear as if we had stepped out of a Gulfstream. The suave FBO was a stark contrast to some of the "springs poking through the couch" experiences at some smaller operations.

A cab soon appeared and about 15 minutes later we were at our hotel. The cab ride included a quick tour of the historic sites narrated by the helpful driver.

Two days later, we piled back into the Bonanza, accepted an intersection departure on Runway 35 and headed for home. The charges included a $10 landing fee and $30 a night parking fee, with one night waived for purchasing fuel. We bought fuel — for about the same price we pay at our home field, so we had to pay for only one night of parking. I've paid more than $30 for parking my car in downtown Washington, D.C., for an afternoon meeting, so the fee to watch over my airplane for two days didn't seem so unreasonable given the pricey urban real estate.

To me, a shopping mall is a shopping mall — no matter where it is. And to the nonpilot, every airport probably looks like the next one. But to pilots every airport is unique — each with its own personality. Yet, no matter how big or busy, each is still accessible by all of us — a freedom well worth protecting.

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