Sunday

Alexis Park Inn & Suites

1165 S. Riverside Drive

Iowa City, Iowa 52246

Toll Free: 888-9ALEXIS

(888-925-3947)

Local: 319 337-8665

Fax: 319 351-4102

Email:

Proud Members of:

Iowa Bed & Breakfast Guild

Iowa City Chamber of Commerce

Iowa City Convention & Visitor's Bureau

Sunday

Departure Preparation

Sunday dawned clear and warm, and anticipation was running high! With four pilots agreeing to head up together, we all gathered in the lobby for last-minute pictures and preparation.

Edwin and Jim's new engine in their Maule continued to present some niggling little problems (a minor oil leak), so they got off a bit later than the rest, but the four of us were soon winging our way northeast-bound. With temperatures reaching the mid-90s by late morning, we were all happy to be up at 5500 feet (or higher), where the air was cool and still.

Mary's First Flight Into OSH

For the first time, ever, Mary was flying Atlas (our '74 Pathfinder) into Oshkosh, the busiest airport in the world! Having just turned 500 hours, she felt confident in her abilities, and was looking forward to our usual intense-but-fun approach into AirVenture.

Well, they threw EVERYTHING they could at her! After 75 minutes of loose formation flight with Jack & Steve Allison's Piper Arrow, we arrived at Ripon -- the entry-point to OSH airspace. As she fell in line behind a Beech Bonanza, FISK approach announced the dreaded news that "Oshkosh was closed to arrivals"!

This meant a holding pattern around nearby Rush Lake, following the Bonanza around the shoreline. You would think this would be easy enough, but a fair number of pilots couldn't figure out what "fly over the shoreline" meant, and they were all over the place. Some were over the water, some were well inland, and -- as a result -- there were planes all over the sky, loosely flying a big counter-clockwise circle over Rush Lake....

Luckily it was only a short-lived glitch, and after just one circuit they announced that "Oshkosh Airspace is open to arrivals", meaning that we could resume course up the railroad tracks toward the waypoint known as "FISK." There, a group of controllers sitting on a flat-bed trailer, baking in the sun, would direct us -- and hundreds of other small aircraft streaming overhead -- in to land.

As we crossed FISK, the controller announced that only runways 18 right and left were open to arrivals, meaning that Mary would be fighting a 80 degree, 20 knot cross-wind on landing. This is close to the limit of what our plane is rated to land in, and with the temperatures well over 90 degrees, the density altitude would be sky-high. And, of course, we were loaded at our maximum gross weight, what with all the camping gear and a week's worth of clothing for the four of us.

Needless to say, landing on Rwy 18 would be a challenge.

Over FISK the controller told Mary to rock her wings (There is NO radio usage arriving in OSH. You only listen, and communicate with a wing rock), instructing her to turn right and head East for the airport. Still following the Bonanza who, by now, was inexplicably slowing down, we followed the road toward the airport...

...And rapidly began to run up on the Bo's tail. For reasons known only to him, he had slowed to 80 miles per hour, rather than 90 knots specified in the Oshkosh arrival procedures! Calmly (not!) recommending that Mary drop a notch of flaps, she did so and was able to maintain our distance by executing a few "S" turns.

Then, as we approached the airport environment (and switched to the control tower frequency), the controller offered no further instructions to our Bonanza pilot. In the absence of direction (and common sense), he turned left and entered a RIGHT downwind for Rwy 18L.

Sensing this was wrong, Mary wondered aloud what she should do? Figuring that it was not a good idea to cross over the top and enter a LEFT downwind for the same runway, I recommended that she follow the guy.

Just as soon as she could turn to follow the guy, the controller told the Bonanza that he was going the wrong way, and that he should cross over the top to enter a left downwind for Rwy 18L. Again, Mary wondered aloud what to do, and I recommended that we follow the guy. So, entering a sweeping right turn we were soon aimed at crossing the runway...

Suddenly the tower told our Bo buddy (who was still going incredibly slowly) "Change of plans. I want you to execute a 270 degree descending left turn, and land on Rwy 18R." Incredulous, Mary wondered again what she should do?

By now resigned to our fate, I answered in the only way I could: "Follow the guy!"

So, hot, low, too slow, and at max gross, Mary started a sweeping left turn to land. At which point the tower pointed out that she was "Not to go North of the tower, as Rwy 27 was now in use!" This meant steepening our turn dramatically, in order to avoid flying into traffic landing on an intersecting runway -- something Mary absolutely HATES doing.

But, there was no choice. Hot, low, too slow, and at max gross, we were now in a 60 degree bank, just a few hundred feet off the ground, just a few hundred feet behind the Bonanza. All I could do was grit my teeth and calmly (Not!) recommend "Power!" over and over again. As she leveled out to land, the tower instructed her to "Put it down on the pink dot" (which was painted on the runway), and nanoseconds later the wheels slammed down on the runway...

We had made it! As Mary rolled out, hyperventilating and chanting "Oh, my God!" over and over again, I glanced out at the wings to make sure that the struts weren't sticking through the skins. Luckily, despite shaking Wittman Field pretty hard, Mr. Piper's landing gear had come through once again, and we followed the flagmen to parking in the North 40 campground.

Set Up -- 105 Degrees!

Once there, we were lucky enough to be given an end spot, right near the road -- a perfect place to display our hotel banner! Unfortunately, as Mary shut down the engine we immediately became aware that the temperature was nearly unbearable -- but our spirits were high as we unloaded our gear just a few sites down from Jack, Steve, Edwin and Jim! (Jim Weir had diverted to the South 40, literally miles away, in the Vintage area.)

Within an hour we were set up -- and totally drained. The heat index of 105, combined with the inability to get out of the sun (airports just don't seem to have much shade!) and the stress of the day was taking its toll. We decided to hike over to the local Pick N Save foods, for ice and beverages.

On our hike over, we happened across a brand-new Goodwill store. Out front of the store were dozens of used bicycles, obviously gathered together for the fly-in. Unbelievably priced at just $10 apiece, we immediately picked out four bikes, and switched from pedestrians to riders -- a change that absolutely revolutionized Airventure for us! No more waiting for buses, no more hiking half a mile to the showers -- we could now easily and (almost) instantly get around the North 40. What a great idea someone at Goodwill had -- and, at the end of the fly-in, we simply donated them BACK to Goodwill, and took the $40 tax write-off. Almost free bikes!

After a refreshing pizza-and-pop-and-beer break at "Tailspin Tommy's" -- an excellent, aviation-themed restaurant in the same strip mall as Pick N Save -- we rode back to the site in style, and spent the rest of the evening happily watching arrivals and trying to keep cool...