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Grant Corriveau - Ferries a 601XL from Canada to the U.S
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I flew Art Mitchell's 601XL from Kitchener-Waterloo (CYKF) down to the Creve
Couer airport (1H0) just west of St. Louis, Mo. on Wednesday, Feb. 23rd.
My only regret is that the tight schedule required me to rush a little so I
could arrive before sunset at St. Louis. The airplane doesn't have a
directional gyro, and the fact that I would be arriving over a major city and
flying without a transponder, inside the mode C veil, having to remain clear of
class B airspace, while navigating around an unfamiliar area, didn't sound like
an appealing prospect for night flight anyways!
Art and I pulled the aircraft out of a frigid hangar, and maneuvered it around
the tall snow banks that had been piled up around the south side of the
Kitchener-Waterloo airport since a recent big storm. The air was icy cold, but
thankfully the February sun was starting to put out a few BTUs of heat. It was
a bright sunny day for the first leg of the trip to Sandusky, Ohio (KSKY)
situated on the south shore of lake Erie.
During the pre-flight inspection Art installed the customary "Rotax radiator
winter modification system" -- a couple of strategically placed strips of duct
tape across the water and oil rads -- Red Green would be proud! But it
maintains the KISS principle and it works. Of course after Art and I had nicely
strapped ourselves into the aircraft and, we discovered that the battery wasn't
up to the task of getting the frozen engine started. The airplane hadn't been
flying much, so inactivity and the cold weather had taken it's toll. Out we
climbed, and while Art went back to his car for jumper cables, I pulled the
battery cart out of the hangar. A while later we had the engine up and and
running smoothly. Once the oil temp was showing signs of life, I shut down and
we re-installed cowling, reattached ourselves to the seats, locked up the
canopy, sorted out the headsets and intercom, and all those other preflight
details.
After a short run-up and pre-takeoff check we were ready for the checkout
flight. I was impressed with the simplicity of operation with the Rotax 912s
and the Woodcomp constant speed prop. There was a carb heat control, but
typically with the Rotax 912, this is more to meet regulatory requirements than
for any practical need. We quickly confirmed that the controls were free, the
engine and electrical parameters were good, the mag drop was acceptable,
checking the prop auto-tach was set for climb, and ensuring the seatbelts and
canopy were secure, and we were ready to go.
It was a short taxii to runway 32. The hardest part of handling the aircraft
was dealing with the overly-aggressive springs in the carbs that would pull the
throttle open anytime I relaxed my grip. I struggled with this all day, and now
I understand the discussions on the Zenair builder's website (Matronics list)
about ways to ease this.
The airplane was certainly 'peppy' accelerating down the runway and like my own
601HDS, it requires a definite pull to get the nose up. The constant speed prop
settled in at 2350 rpm, which held the Rotax just below redline rpm (5800?).
The climb at 80 buried the horizon and the rate of climb was over 1,000 feet
per minute, so I let the speed build rapidly towards 100 mph. As we zipped
around the circuit Art briefed me on how to use the constant speed propeller.
This was so much simpler than conventional CSTs I've used in the past. A touch
of a button switched the prop to the cruise program and I watched as it smoothly
ticked down to 2,000 rpm. This put the engine revs at 5,000 and the M.P.
settled in at about 25 inches. The airspeed kept increasing towards135 mph. A
circuit doesn't take long at that speed.
I'm not used to having flaps on a Zodiac, so I flew the first couple of circuits
without them. Because the airplane's minimum trim speed was somewhere around 90
mph, I never got the plane properly trimmed for a no-flaps approach speed of 80
mph. Each time I looked away the speed would slip back up to 90 or more. No
big deal on the runways I was using. I just concentrated on managing the power,
glide and speed so I would arrive over the threshold at some reasonable
combination of speed and height and land in the first third of the pavement. On
the third circuit I got slowed down enough on base to extend a few degrees of
flaps, but once again, the speed inadvertently accelerated beyond the 80 mph
white arc. Rather than risk damaging anything, I retracted the flaps and
decided that I just wouldn't bother using them on this flight. Barring any
off-airport emergencies (where speed-attention-deficit disorder would be offset
by waves of adrenaline!), I wouldn't need the slower 44 mph stall speed they
afforded. I did experiment with side-slipping, and found it to be as effective
as my HDS. So, after another time or two around the patch to get comfortable,
we made a full stop landing. The brakes worked well.
Then came the most challenging part of the day. Because the first flight leg
was across the U.S. border I not only needed to file a Canadian VFR flight plan,
but I also had to figure out how to let the customs office at SKY know my eta.
The regulation (since 9/11) specifies that I had to arrive after my ETA but not
more than 15 minutes after... The flight planning facilities in the back of a
local home-builder's hangar consisted of a telephone and a bench cluttered with
the usual assortment of tools, etc... I did get a very friendly and competent
weather briefing from the Canadian F.S.S. (good vfr to just short of STL, then
possible ice pellets and precip closing northward over the STL area later in the
day) and filed the flight plan, using estimates provided by the locals as to my
arrival time at SKY. I was told that the run to SKY was only about forty-five
minutes. To be conservative, I used an hour and figured once airborne I could
slow down as required to arrive in the required window. I just didn't want to
have to fly orbits that might accidentally make me look like a terrorist if I
accidentally happened to be over any power plants or other 'sensitive'
facilities! ;-0
Back outside, strapped into the plane and ready to go, I fired up my Garmin III
gps and discovered that via the route I was planning, my elapsed time to SKY was
actually an hour and a half. This may have been due in large part to the fact
that I'd planned my route to depart westbound until over the St. Thomas area,
then along Pelee Point and Pelee Island south towards SKY. This route kept me
over land most of the time, or at least in hopeful gliding distance of an
island. After considering if I could run back to the hangar to call customs and
FSS to update my ETA, I decided it would be better to update while airborne in
case there were further delays. Also, I needed to leave by noon if I was to
arrive at Creve Couer in the daylight.
Art offered to pray and I gladly accepted. I hadn't flown any significant light
aircraft, VFR cross-country flights in years and was grateful for the reminder
to slow down, take a deep breath, think things through carefully, apply large
doses of common sense, wisdom and attention, and most of all -- enjoy the
flight!
I was off at 11:30 EST. I climbed to 2,500 asl, and thanks to GPS, I was soon
heading 260 degrees with my first waypoint near the London (YXU) control zone,
on the nose. By London I called the Aeradio operator and requested that they
pass on a corrected ETA to U.S. customs. Their initial response was that "we
don't provide that service anymore..." Then after a short discussion of other
possibilities, the operator asked, "What's your ETA, I can send over a message
for you." I informed him that I would be there by 13:05 and thanked him! I was
grateful as I didn't want to have to call Art and tell him that his aircraft was
being impounded by the U.S. authorities ;-).
The flight was routine. The ground speed was settling in at 100 kts (115mph)
giving me pretty much the forecasted headwind. The oil pressure was steady, the
temp was steady at 240 or 250 degrees, the water temp never moved from 210
degrees, and the alternator was putting out 14 volts. I was getting a nice
sunny heat adding to the adequate cabin heat. My only 'issue' was with an air
leak from the front left corner of the canopy seal. With a little
experimentation, and the use of a small towel and some duct tape, I soon had
that closed up. I discovered that if I set my left leg at just the right angle,
I would get a nice warm blast from the heater right up my pant leg! Ahh! The
epitome of winter flying luxury... ;-)
As I cut across the edge of lake Erie, towards Pelee Island, I climbed to 4,500
asl and scooted down the edge of the small chain of islands that leads toward
KSKY. Surprisingly, the trusty Rotax didn't go into 'automatic rough' over the
water. In fact this great little engine never missed a beat the entire trip,
and after each enroute stop, it fired up immediately with a touch on the key.
The XLs faster airspeed compared to my HDS sent me zooming overhead KSKY before
I could see the runways (that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!)... Making
the usual traffic calls on the CTAF, I pulled around into a 180, immediately
spotted the field, and worked my way into a quick left hand circuit down to
runway 9. I arrived right on my updated ETA and was happy to see the customs
officials heading out. After the usual opening questions they gave me
permission to exit the airplane and follow them to their office for the
paperwork.
I was happy to find that the American hospitality I've so often enjoyed south of
the border still reigned. Everyone at Sandusky, from the customs officials to
the FBO people here and at my other station stops were invariably friendly and
helpful. It didn't take long to top up the airplane tanks (9 usg for 1:35),
drain my own tank, scan the weather radar website, call the new owner in STL to
let him know I was enroute, and by 1400 EST I was airborne again.
For the next hour I had to fly at about 1,500 asl to maintain comfortable VFR
below and around a few areas of virga and snow showers. But once south of this
band, I climbed up to 3,500 (okay, okay - wrong way altitude! but the cruising
altitude rule only applies above 3,000 above ground level - doesn't it?). I was
hoping that the clouds would let me get up to 4,500 but they didn't' and after a
while I slowly descended to 2,500 ft.
Enroute I noticed that trying to reach stuff in the baggage shelf was more
difficult with the higher seat backs installed in GOXL compared to my airplane.
I munched a sandwich from the three day lunch(!) that Art's wife Willy had
generously packed for me, sipped a little water, and started thinking about
'fluid supplies' -- both mine and the airplanes. I realized that as the
afternoon was wearing on, I might arrive at Greensville and find the local FBO
closed for the day. I didn't want to flying to the STL terminal area with any
concerns at all about fuel. I was also beginning to get those 'time to drain
the bladder' signals from my 'other tank'.
I scanned the GPS and sectional charts and the Airports manual that Tony Colucci
had lent me, and decided that a visit to Marionville, Indiana was in order (KMZZ).
I punched up the 'nearest/goto' button on the Garmin, and a few minutes later
at 1530, I was gently touching down on runway 22 at another great airport
facility. After a quick comfort stop, fuel top-up, weather briefing, and a chat
with the local folks, I was airborne again by 1600.
The rest of the flight to KGRE was routine... (well, I may have stumbled through
a restricted zone around a munitions factory that wasn't on my Garmin database,
but was shown on the sectional chart!? But no F-16s appeared on my wingtip and
no shells exploded around me, so maybe I was far enough away -- or just
undetected in my stealth 601? ;-)
The XL easily handled the light easterly crosswind landing as I touched down on
runway 36 at GRE at 1800 EST. At first sight the FBO appeared to be all locked
up for the day. Just as I was wondering if my cell phone would work, a fellow
pulled up in his pickup truck and opened the door for me. He'd been out
tweaking his photocells that controlled the runway's automatic night lights and
came in to greet me when he heard my inbound radio calls. This was another
example of the great attitude of friendly service and helpfulness I encountered
on this trip.
I called the shift supervisor at St. Louis TRACON for permission to fly into the
mode C veil without a transponder. I explained that the new owner had been
coordinating my arrival with the day supervisor, and gave the requested
information. The ATC supervisor simply made me confirm to that I would be
remaining clear of Class B airspace, then basically said 'Come on down!'... I
asked if there was any frequency I should use and his reply was, "Well, I guess
if you want advisories you can call the Approach Controller on 124.0..." But he
didn't sound like it was very important just so long as I reassured him again
that I would be remaining clear of Class B.
I briefly mentioned the VFR route I'd be following. Art had thoughtfully
included the STL Terminal Area chart in my package of maps. It showed the
preferred routes and visual waypoints clearly. By 1815 I was airborne again for
the 45 minute flight to Creve Couer airport which is just on the west side of
St. Louis. I had asked Bill Adams, the new owner of OXL to make sure the
landing lights were on at the airport as I knew I'd be landing close to the
official sunset time. As I approached the STL area the sky was dark and
overcast, but visibility was excellent. I maneuvered around and under the Class
B 'wedding cake' of airspace reserved for transponder equipped airplanes and
made sure to avoid the St. Louis Regional airport (KALN) just north of the
river.
All around me the evening lights were coming on. I easily spotted the lights of
the refinery 'tank farm' which was my first checkpoint, then the 'power plant
north' stacks that marked my route along the river(s) (Mississippi and Missouri
come together along here somewhere...). I also had the airspace restrictions
'painting' on the GPS screen as a guide. The only trouble was, that as the
cockpit grew dimmer and dimmer the GPS screen was harder to read. I fumbled
with the button for the Garmin's integral light, but because this is the same
button that turns the unit on and off, all I succeeded in doing was shutting off
the screen! aaah! Why do designers make buttons with too many non-intuitive
functions?!
As I was clearing the STL control zone on the northwest corner and following the
river's bend southward, I suddenly began to feel a vibration in the rudder
pedals. This was something completely new and immediately got my attention. I
wondered momentarily if I was having rudder problems, but the aircraft itself
showed no signs of yaw. However, it did seem like the airspeed was
significantly slowed and there was some new 'burbling' vibrations. I
purposefully pushed the rudder pedal out of the center detent a little to each
side, and just as suddenly as it had started, the vibration stopped. I wasn't
spiraling out of control towards the ground, so I figured it was a problem with
the nose wheel -- hopefully just the fairing or something like that. I hadn't
noticed any sudden change in pitch so hopefully it wasn't the nose wheel
departing the aircraft! I was working out all this while maintaining my scan
outside for traffic and navigating in the growing darkness. This was getting to
be too much like work!
I was now making my final turn directly south from overhead the St. Charles
airport (SQ3), and the world outside was definitely beginning to imitate 'night
time'... I could still see the ground, but the highways were lined in by red and
white car lights, and more and more house and street lights were coming on. I
quickly spotted the Creve Couer runway lights exactly where Mr. Garmin said they
should be, heaved a sigh of relief, and eased the nose down for another speedy
arrival. This time I ensured I bled off the airspeed carefully before letting
down the nose wheel and the landing was completely normal. Touchdown was at
1800 CST (1 hour time zone change) and apparently, official sunset time was
1745. Made it with 15 minutes to spare!
Bill was awaiting my arrival on the ramp. He waved me into a parking spot
directly in front of his 'Big Gulp' Coke container (about the size of a pylon!!)
and I shut down. I could tell by his reaction that there was definitely
something happening around the nose wheel. I climbed out to find that the rear
half of the nose gear fairing had lost both screws on the right side. Two small
rivets had than also let go and when the fairing caught the wind it had swung
out into the air stream like a billowing spinnaker. I guess it must have
flapped around a bit until I moved the rudder pedals and it then flipped into
some sort of stable position, jammed in behind the fork. I figured it was a
testament to how well it was made that it stayed attached and showed very little
damage. I pulled it back around onto the wheel fork and I could tell that Bill
was relieved that there wasn't any significant damage to his new 'baby'. ( I
just got an email from him that it cost him $1.40 for a couple of new screws and
it's repaired already.)
After tying down, I dug my charts and baggage out of the plane and headed out
with Bill for a supper and a few minutes of paperwork. As we were walking
across the ramp, big snow flakes began falling. By the next morning the
airplane was covered in a couple of inches of snow! Welcome to Missouri. Great
timing. You'd almost think it had been arranged that way! ;-0
I enjoyed supper and a visit with Bill - he's quite a character. He describes
himself as an 'ole bachelor' like Oscar from the odd couple, but without Felix.
The next morning he dropped me off at STL and I was on my way home again.
Coincidentally, the flight home to Montreal, via Toronto, was almost as long as
the flight down in the Zodie (what with customs, terminal transfers at YYZ,
airport construction, flight connections....). The bathroom facilities on board
were definitely better, but the scenery from under the Zodie-Dome is
unsurpassable!
Total flight time on GOXL worked out to 5H50 over a GPS distance of 570 nautical
miles. Average fuel burn was 5.25 US gph, using 24 to 25 inches M.P. and 5000
engine RPM / 2,000 propeller RPM at 2,500 ft asl, more or less. (I don't know
what % of power this represents). I was cruising at 135 mph (indicated) and
getting ground speeds varying between 110 and 130 mph, (i.e. 25 mph headwind at
the north end to almost calm as I went south). That works out to over 27
airmiles per gallon - pretty efficient!
Thanks to everyone who contributed to making this a very successful flight.
Grant