The first week of October was rather wet. Can't complain after such a nice summer. Sunday I decided to have breakfast at the Flying M, then fly down the coast to a fly-in at Gold Beach. Raindance decided otherwise.

By the time the weather cleared to my satisfaction the afternoon was on its way out. I punched up a quick flight plan to Salem for dinner, then a stop at Hubbard on the way back.

On the way to Salem I used a custom programmed GPS NAV page for the first time. This page shows ground track, ground speed, minimum safe altitude, bearing and distance to destination. Having ground track and bearing information on the same page allows me to quickly deduce the actual winds at the cruising altitude.

When I got to Salem conversations and slow food service conspired to delay my return until after sundown. So much for the stop at Hubbard.

The flight back to Hillsboro was very smooth, with a beautiful sunset under the left wing. Within 10 miles of the airport another Sklyane passed me and was cleared to land ahead of me. As he passed I had difficulty gauging his distance. Gauging distance to other points of light in the evening sky is difficult. Once the aircraft carrier Enterprise made an emergency turn to avoid the planet Venus.

With this distraction I lost sight of the airport beacon. I was thinking about the traffic; the airport could find itself.

As I approached the runway threshold I felt the Hand of God gently nudging Romeo. It felt as if something was wrong with the controls. During the day it would have been indistinguishable from normal turbulence. But it was unexpected in the smooth evening air. Perhaps it was wake turbulence from the plane that landed ahead of me. I only had a second or two to contemplate this anomaly before it was time to get back to the task of landing. The landing was fine and I made the A6 turnoff. The idiot DAT didn't record the landing because it had eaten another set of batteries.

The second week was classic Oregon Monsoon. I had my first IFR lesson Tuesday, a half hour flying Eagle's simulator from Hillsboro to Mc Minville.

Later that afternoon I did get in an hour practicing stalls and a couple of touch-and-gos. I wanted to get in at least one spot landing (simulated engine failure) but the airport was too busy.

Sunday the 11th the weather forecast was improving. I decided to check out a few new (to me) airstrips after breakfast at the Flying M Ranch. I called the Ranch to check conditions, which were satisfactory. The sky didn't look all that good but a Skwagon pilot who had just arrived from Flying M reported the weather was OK.

The cool and damp weather registered on the carb temp gauge, so I added carb heat to keep Romeo's throat clear of ice. The fall weather will be the first good test of Romeo's new carb temp gauge.

By the time I approached Hogg Lake, my fix for the 9 mile approach to the Ranch, it was obvious the weather was not "serious VFR". I had decided to fly the 9 nm final segment at 90 knots to get a feel of an IFR approach flown at that speed. I set the DAT to record, but it wouldn't start. The recorder just blinked its display. It seems as if Sony don't wish to record my approach and landing to Flying M. I now have enough slightly used batteries to power my Lighspeed headset half way to the milennium.

Instead of a normal traffic pattern approach I buzzed the strip as recommended in the Flight Guide, to alert ground personnel to my impending landing. On final approach I saw a parade of cars driving down the road. Incredibly, they turned and crossed the runway without even pausing to look for aircraft. So much for buzzing the airstrip - it takes a while to turn around and line up for landing, and in that time someone who did not see the airstrip being buzzed may cross the airstrip.

I had to go around while I still had enough speed, altitude, and distance to execute the maneuver safely. I was not amused. A Taylorcraft tried a go around from a lower altitude 3 weeks earlier, stalled and spun into trees. Romeo's 470 cubic inch Continental pulled my chestnuts out of the fire, but not without a release of adrenalin. The second approach was deja vu all over again when more cretins crossing the runway cut me off. On the third approach I announced that I would go somewhere else if the runway was not clear. I doubt that anyone was listening, but the supply of vehicles driven by idiots bent on cleansing the gene pool dried up long enough for me to land. The picture above shows one of many cars and bicycles wandering across the runway hours later. With these superbly realistic distractions I touched down with a slight bounce and rolled out with very little braking save for the 40 degree barn door flaps, which I left down. During the rollout I felt rather vulnerable, since I would have had little ability to deal with a sudden runway incursion. Reminds me of motorcycle riding. Next time I call Flying M I'll ask if there is any special activity that would draw cretins to the runway.

The Hillsboro Terminal Aerodrome Forecast (TAF) for Sunday morning called for overcast skies and a few low clouds which would dissipate by 9 am local time, an hour later at Salem. When I took off from Hillsboro there were no low clouds near the airport. Wispy low clouds appeared over the foothills at the west end of the valley. During breakfast I saw low clouds moving in instead of dissipating as forecast. The picture on the left shows fog generated by Romeo's prop during the runup. The effect was easy to see if not to photograph.

I took off and climbed out between clouds. The clouds to the east didn't look too inviting. I set course back to Hillsboro.

The pictures above were taken from 2500-3000' on the way back to HIO. As usual, visibility of the ground underneath was better than what these pictures of the horizon suggest. Later that afternoon the weather improved enough to take a friend flying.

Thursday I flew up to Hoquiam. The excuse for this flight was the necessity of burning off some fuel before John gives me dual IFR instruction in N2469R. Paul, my IFR ground school instructor, suggested we students fly through some rain showers to get used to the sights and sounds. A few scattered showers obliged. The shower pictured below was representative.
Below: Clouds and mist over the Columbia River.
As I came over the West Hills to HIO I decided to intercept the ILS glide slope and fly it down to pattern altitude, just to see what it was like. (Since I was entering right downind I was not in position to intercept the localizer, the horizontal component of the Insturment Landing System.) It didn't seem all that difficult to track the glide slope, considering I was spending most of my time looking for traffic instead of flying the gauges. (Famous last words -- see Duck Soup: IFR Lessons )

Friday the airport was relatively quiet late afternoon, and I got in a number of landings including a few short approaches.

Sunday low clouds took their time dissipating. By then, an east wind had picked up. I decided to fly to Flying M ranch for breakfast, then to Hubbard, and Cornelius Skyport. I should have known it would be a cooky day when a bunch of Army types in fatigues piled out of one of those ugly Shorts transports in front of Eddie's. No wonder the Air Force lets the Army fly those things.

The Cessna Skylane built immediately before mine is owned by a man in eastern Oregon. N2468R has a serial number exactly one less than Romeo. When both planes are flying in the same area there is a potential for confusion. Sunday was the first nice day in some time, and everyone was out flying. The airport was jumpin'. I was cleared to taxi and hold as soon as the plane ahead started his takeoff roll. Moments later I was cleared for takeoff while the plane ahead was still over the runway. As I started my takeoff roll, Tower cleared N2469R to taxi and hold. That's ME! I figured it was a mistake, but didn't know what the mistake was. "It's better to be on the ground wishing you were in the air than in the air wishing you were on the gound." I aborted the takeoff and took the first available turnoff. The taxi and hold instruction was meant for N2468R, not me. I was cleared to taxi back and took off uneventfully.

A few miles east of Flying M, a V-tail Bonanza climbed out from the airstrip with no radio announcement at all. He passed uncomfortably close, apparently oblivious of me. When I reached the airstrip, the wind sock indicated a strong tailwind. I decided I wasn't that hungry.

I had planned to study the data for Lenhardt (7S9) Hubbard while on the ground at Flying M. So much for the best laid plans of mice and men. I set course for Lenhardt and checked the airport data in flight. This wasn't the easiest thing to do because the traffic required full time eyes "out of the cockpit". Landing at Lenhardt was uneventful, but there was traffic in the pattern and no paved taxiway, so I made it a touch-and-go. Again, I didn't have the data for the next airport pre-loaded, so again I had to do this in flight. I ended up adjusting the GPS one digit at a time, scanning for traffic between each digit.

Since Cornelius Skyport is on the edge of Hillsboro's Class D airspace, I checked in with Hillsboro Tower on the way to Skyport. It's easy to miss Cornelius Skyport (4S4). It's a 2000 foot grass strip. It can be seen under Romeo's wing in the picture. Even with the GPS pointing to it, I had to circle once or twice to spot it. To find it, look for some greenhouses, a red barn, and an orange windsock. I landed and spent a while talking to Paul, the owner of a straight tail 172 who was also taking IFR lessons. There doesn't seem to be much action at Skyport other than the odd glider that doesn't make it back to the North Plains glider port. As the afternoon faded the temperature dropped and my lack of breakfast became more noticeable. I checked Hillsboro ATIS and tower frequency before announcing my departure on Skyport's frequency.

Hillsboro Airport was just as crazy as it was when I left it several hours earlier. The controller was having a time of it asserting control over the tower frequency, what with people stepping on each others' communications. Lots of Sunday flyers in the air. As I turned base I was asked to cut the corner and expedite my arrival to speed up the traffic flow. So I kept up my speed until short final, then cut power, slowed down to flap speed, and threw out the anchor. Not exactly the standard "stabilized approach". Who wants to land the same way everytime? Kevin would have had a bird.

The next week saw the beginning of IFR lessons. Saturday I readjusted Romeo's compass and "swung" it. The compass now reads within two degrees of actual when the avionics are on. The error has been as much as ten degrees. Afterwards the sky cleared up and I practiced spot landings and soft field takeoffs. Most of the time I had the airport to myself, and was cleared for the next T&G before turning downwind.

Sunday the weather was good enough for my weekly pilgrimage to the Flying M Sunday Breakfast. These days I ask the ranch if there are any special activities which would cause an excessive number of cretins to wander across the airstrip.

I was the first pilot to arrive Sunday morning, but as I ate breakfast other pilots dropped in. At one point we had five planes parked outside. Most of the pilots gravitated to the corner of the dining room overlooking the airstrip to keep tabs on the action. Many penguins checked out the hardware.

I ran into Dick Van Dyke and wife, whom I'd met at the Arligton fly-in last July. As Dick departed I got some pictures of his takeoff. Notice how Dick avoided the gravel in the center of the runway during takeoff. Before boarding Romeo I checked the area in front of the plane for rocks which might damage the prop. Two more planes circled by to land as I warmed up the engine in preparation for takeoff. For my takeoff I circled past the end of the gravel runway without stopping, then slowly advanced the throttle as I started my takeoff roll on the grass on the far side of the gravel runway. I traded some of the Skylane's takeoff performance margin to minimize prop damage by building up ground speed before applying full throttle.

After climbout from Flying M I flew to Happy Camp (S15). A few weeks ago Happy Camp placed an ad in the Oregonian saying the strip was open. I had planned to home in on a Portland radio station using the ADF and then fly two miles east to Happy Camp. This plan had to be modified as the radio antennas extended nearly all the way up into Portland's Class C airspace. I don't know what the owners have planned for the Happy Camp strip; all I could find was a single taxiway with an X across it leading away from the strip to places unknown. The airstrip itself appears to be in good condition.

On the way back to Hillsboro I passed downtown Portland. The white buildings on the left make up the U of O med school. They're not really that white, but that area had more sunlight than downtown when I snapped this picture. The arched Fremont bridge is visible on the right.

During the next few weeks most of my flying was taken up with IFR lessons. The IFR lessons convinced me the airplane's left turning tendency was an impidiment to flying on the gauges, so I had Dirk and Anthony adjust the wings so the plane would fly straight when the attitude indicator was level. After a few adjustments and test flights the plane seemed to fly straight.

TAF KHQM 171733Z 171818 10004KT P6SM SCT150
     FM2300 20008KT P6SM VCSH BKN040 BKN100

KHQM 182250Z 16004KT 10SM FEW018TCU SCT023 BKN200 12/09 A3025 RMK TCU SE-S

As I approached the airport from the west I called on the traffic frequency and complained about the weather. An Army chopper about to lift off decided to wait. I was somewhat below the normal pattern altitude to keep clear of clouds. As it happened, I made the smoothest landing ever in a 182. One moment I was flying, the next I was water skiing. I didn't feel a definite transition. It was raining cats and dogs. The picture above suggests the extent of the drenching. Thank heavens for high wing Cessnas.

I had a "B-17 Sandwich" at the Cafe. During the flight to Hoquiam the plane continued its tendency to fly with the left wing low, so I adjusted the corners of the ailerons in an attempt to level the wings. On the way back it became apparent the left leaning tendency was unabated, perhaps worse.
I landed at the Port of Ilwaco (WA27), a 2070 foot long long strip on the north side of the Columbia River delta. The strip was deserted save for a pair of deer wandering around the north perimeter. I reversed the adjustments I made at Hoquiam. Neither of the adjustments had any discernable effect.

Weather was marginal on the flight back to Hillsboro. I passed Kelso and Scappoose, not knowing if I'd have to return there for the night rather than risk scud running in the dark. About 8 miles south of Scappoose the lights of Beaverton and Hillsboro came into clear view above the West Hills. I hung a right at Cornelius Pass. The ceiling was much higher all the way back to Hillsboro. After landing I returned the edges of the ailerons to a neutral position, not that any of these small tweeks had made any discernable difference.

Wednesday I had another IFR lesson. Thanks to the adjustments and some homebrew IFR simming, my duck soup flying skills were much improved.

Friday's IFR lesson was scrubbed by nasty wx. The outlook for the weekend was not good, but Saturday night Raindance got another fit of optimism.

TAF KHIO 221735Z 221818 18012KT P6SM SCT025 SCT040 BKN070 TEMPO
     1802 6SM -SHRAPL BKN025 OVC040

As I started to preflight the airplane, a south wind came up and cold liquid sunshine obscured the hills to the southwest. The weather for my trip to Flying M was not the greatest. Numerous small puddles littered the central gravel portion of the airstrip. By noon I was safe and dry eating a buffet breakfast in the dining room. Between working questions on the Commercial/IFR exam workbook I watched clouds drifting by several hundred feet above the airstrip. All this time there was little wind near the surface, even when McMinnville, 14 miles to the southeast, was reporting gusts of 18 kt. Chimney smoke from the nearby stable rose straight up, then slowly drifted one way or the other when it reached treetop height. I did not see any airplanes land or take off from Flying M. It was not a great day for preflighting, let alone flying.