I started by checking the current radar map  and noting that the storms had moved east while, more important, new storms were not developing behind them. In other words, it looked like good flying just west of my intended route with nothing threatening to move in. Here is a picture. (Click on the pictures to see larger versions.)

The planned flight path involved going west and north to avoid the weather.

By taking a route west and then north, I would be able to get to a point where I could fly northeast into Oshkosh, completely avoiding the storms. There is a little bit of rain in Wisconsin but nothing that I would not be able to fly around when I got there. At worst, one of those might be directly over the airport when I arrive. Were that to happen, I would land at another airport in the vicinity and wait for half an hour or an hour, then take off again and complete my flight.

I wanted to confirm my guess about the lack of storms to the west of my intended route, though. There are a lot of people who know a lot more about weather than I do and, fortunately, pilots have access to some of them by calling Flight Service. I got a briefer on the phone and he concurred that no new storms were likely to develop to the west.

I did make the flight, as you can see in this screen snapshot. The weather in the image shows the storms when I took off. Since they continued to move eastward, I was able to cut the corners, saving distance and time, without ever flying through any significant rain.

The actual flight went west of the weather and involved cutting the corners to save time

I did  run into some clouds around Madison but was able to fly east and into gloriously clear weather. Once out of the clouds, I landed at Oshkosh in sunshine for a most excellent week of camping at AirVenture. The delay was inconvenient but not terribly so. I hope that this pair of postings has helped you understand how pilots make go/no-go decisions based on weather tools beyond what is available on TV and “regular” weather web sites.

I canceled a flight from St. Charles, MO to Oshkosh, WI this morning, despite gorgeous sunny weather in both cities. Not only did I cancel the flight, I cannot accurately predict when I will be able to make the trip, despite relatively good weather forecasts in both Missouri and Wisconsin. It could be 48 hours or more until I can safely fly, proving the adage: Time to spare, go by air.

I started my weather briefing this morning by laying my intended course on top of a current radar map. From this, you can see the immediate problem. (Click on the image to see larger version.)

Planned flight route which would take the plane through a thunderstorm

Small airplanes and red stuff on the radar map don’t mix so the first thought is: Perhaps I could fly west, through the “gap” between the large storms. This might well be successful if the small storms cells over southeast Iowa are dissipating instead of growing. The animated radar loop answers this question. (Click the image to see it larger.)

The animated radar loop shows smaller thunderstorms growing between two larger systems.

The animation, showing the progression of the storms over the last hour, shows that the space between the large systems is filling with more red stuff (strong, small storms). It is becoming a wall, not an open gap. With the closure of the space between the systems, the storm line from well west of Kansas City to Chicago blocks travel by small plane from Missouri to Wisconsin.

Since I cannot fly now, the next question becomes: When can I go? For this, we turn to the current surface weather analysis chart and the 24 hour forecast chart. (Click for larger versions.)

Surface analysis chart shows a front extending from the central plains well past Lake Michigan

The 24 hour surface forecast chart show the front moving south but still generating weather that might block flights to Wisconsin

The surface analysis chart shows the weather at about 4:00am this morning. The 24 hour forecast shows that, at about 1:00am tomorrow, a front will still lie across my route and may well be generating more rain and thunderstorms.

From this unscientific analysis, I reached several conclusions. First, I am not flying to Oshkosh this morning. I am much better off at home, frustrated with a delay, than stuffed into a smoking crater in a farm field under a thunderstorm in Iowa. Second, there is some small chance that the storms will blow through by later in the day and I might be able to fly late this afternoon or early this evening. Third, tomorrow is another day, even though it does not look very promising, either.

If you want to poke around at these charts yourself, see www.AviationWeather.gov and www.Wunderground.com.

For the conclusion of this story, see When the Weather Cooperates.

Route from St. Charles County, Missouri, to Oshkosh, Wisconsin

I packed Saturday afternoon, got a good night’s rest, and was ready to go on Sunday morning. There was just one teeny tiny problem: after receiving ten inches of rain in July, the grass at Oshkosh was too wet to accommodate campers with airplanes, or cars, for that matter. Frustrating though it was, I delayed our departure for 24 hours; there was no sense flying north when there was nowhere to land. Better to sleep at home in my own bed for another night.

Monday brought more sour news, still no general aviation camping but the blog said, “The North 40 is still being evaluated, with the goal of opening it sometime today.” Since Chris was at his house, not mine, I realized that we would need at least two hours from the time the airfield opened to be airborne. Chris would need to marshal his mother for the ride to my house, drive over here, we would then need to drive to Smartt field, load the plane, and take off. Add in the flight time and it would be almost five hours after the field opened until we were at our campsite. I figured that we could trim that time almost in half by heading for SET, loading the plane, and waiting at St. Charles Flying Service for the word that OSH was open.

Again, my plans were foiled by mud. Lunch time came and the North 40 at OSH was still to0 wet to allow arrivals. Chris and I borrowed the crew car from SCFS and got a bite from lunch. Surely, the field would open if given another hour of sunshine. But no, it did not.

Desperation was beginning to set in. If you think being all dressed up with nowhere to go on a Saturday night is bad, imagine being all packed for a vacation with nowhere to go. It turned out that Dodge County Airport in Juneau, WI, about 40 miles south of Oshkosh, was welcoming planes en route to AirVenture and would allow us to camp there overnight, if need be. Chris and I decided to fly as far as UNU and see if OSH opened up. If Oshkosh did open, we would only be about 20 minutes away. As we approached UNU, the airshow at Oshkosh was in process so OSH was closed. We landed for gas at UNU and to wait out the airshow.

While at Juneau, I spent quite a bit of time talking to folks from Evolution Trikes who where flying three of their Revo weight-shift trikes from Florida to Oshkosh. They were good enough to give me a ride in one at OSH, a couple of days later, and I immediately fell in love with it. Imagine riding a motorcycle at 60 MPH about 300 feet in the air on a beautiful summer afternoon. What’s not to love?

A Revo weight shift trike takes off at AirVenture 2010

Speaking of Juneau, I cannot praise the good folks at Wisconsin Aviation highly enough. So many of us had diverted to UNU that it looked like AirVenture had moved south. Despite this amazing influx of airplanes and people, everything ran like clockwork at Wisconsin Aviation with the staff uniformly calm, collected, cheerful and efficient. When I initially self-announced on the CTAF frequency, a friendly voice responded with confirmation of the weather and a suggestion for the current in-use runway. By the time we taxied to the ramp, a lineman was outside, directing us to the fuel pump. The plane was promptly fueled and moved to a secure location (on pavement, yet!). A frequently running shuttle van took Chris to town while I availed myself of a comfortable couch and some handy cold cuts for snacking. Wisconsin Aviation won AvWeb’s FBO of the Week on August 2. Congratulations!

With the airshow scheduled to end at 6:30pm, a whole slew of planes departed for RIPON, the entry point for arrivals to AirVenture, a few minutes after 6:00pm. The plan was to be in position, just outside RIPON, when (if) the field opened and then to dash in to a landing before someone changed their mind and closed the field again.

Route from Juneau airport (UNU) to Oshkosh airport (OSH)

Not surprisingly, we were not the only geniuses with this idea. Flying just south of RIPON at 6:20pm on Monday, July 26, was more exciting than I like my flying to be. There were to many planes in the air that Chris and I actually stopped calling the traffic out to each other; it was impossible to verbally spot each one. The AirVenture powers-that-be did open the field and we were able to fly our approach and land on runway 18R.

Oshkosh runway 18R arrival via Fisk Avenue

Once on the ground, I expected to be directed to the North 40 for parking and camping. Since very few planes had gotten in thus far, I figured that we would be on the south side of runway 9-27, between the red shower house and the entry gate, all together a prime location. Bizarrely, we were directed to the far northeast corner of the field and parked in an area clearly signed, “No Camping.” Once out of the plane we learned three things: 1) We could not camp where we parked because there were no toilets, no water, no showers, and no regular bus service. 2) We should load out stuff onto school buses and we would be driven to the North 40 where we could camp (but not taxi or park our planes). 3) The field was closed again; they had so many planes on the ground that they figured it would take until dark to get us all settled in. Chris and I were lucky, we had squeaked into the field during the slim hour that new arrivals were allowed!

Chris hopped onto the first bus and headed off to find the friend he planned to camp with. I got onto a somewhat later bus which took me to a great spot, just two rows from the shower house. After setting up my tent, I headed off to a much needed steak dinner and a few beers with my new camping neighbor, Doug Kropelnicki.

Landing at Oshkosh on 36R. It's a runway, not a taxiway. Really.

With only a day to spent, we saw the airshow and pretty much whatever we happened to wander by, such as the business end of this Thrush ag sprayer.

Thrush Ag Sprayer

Click through to visit my photo gallery of AirVenture 2009 photos.

Oh… I also downsized several of the photos to 320×240 so they work as Palm Pre wallpaper.

We left Jackson Hole airport in the late morning wishing that our local airport afforded vistas like this. The good news, of course, is that we don’t get snow in early October in Missouri, so I guess everything has trade-offs. (Click each picture to see a larger version.)

On this leg, we flew north along Jackson Hole, drinking in last sights of the lakes and Tetons. Winds at 12,000′ were 23 knots out of the southwest and with that much wind across the peaks, the ride was too bumpy at 11,500′ so we continued our climb up to 13,500′ before heading east. Even though it was still before noon, the air was warm enough that we were at a density altitude of 15,100′, right at the service ceiling of our plane; check out the display on the GPS. Yes, we used oxygen!

Flying across central Wyoming we got another lesson in what empty means. The land is gorgeous but there ain’t nothin’ out there.

We normally fly with the GPS map set to 40 miles from the top to the bottom of the screen. This is the only time I have ever seen the screen so empty.

The trip home was uneventful. We came all the way in one day with two stops for a total of 7.7 hours of flying. That’s a heck of a lot better than the 19 hours it would have taken to drive it.

Missouri even treated us with a nice sunset right around Kirksville.

Candy and I saw very little wildlife, at least very little of photogenic wildlife. This was due to an unfortunate misalignment between the wildlifes’ circadian cycles and our own. We, being on vacation, had little desire to be up and active during the the animals’ dawn activity period and their evening period inconveniently conflicted with the beer and dinner hour. Priorities are priorities and I can only hope that, next time we visit the region, the local fauna will get their priorities straight.

The few which did make a reasonable appearance before my lens included Mrs. Moose, shot at mid-day from the porch of Jackson Lake Lodge

and Mr. Moose who led me on a merry chase along a field in the north end of Grand Teton National Park. Mr. Moose was simply strolling along but those long legs carried him at quite a hefty clip. I started out behind him and at the rear of a long line of parked cars and never quite made it in front of his face before he vanished into the woods.

We did see lots of bison in Yellowstone. I’d like to say that they looked majestic but, to me, they just look dim. This guy and several of his friends were parked at the side of the road, completely unconcerned with us nutty humans with clicking cameras.

Unlike the bison, the elk seem to only grant up close ‘n’ personal photo ops to photographers who know someone. I don’t so I got the peeping Tom shot from afar.

Believe it or not, the crow by the sidewalk at Old Faithful was by far the most entertaining and educational animal of the trip. Candy had purchased an ice cream cone at the gift shop. These “contain” so much ice cream that they are served in plastic cups with the cones jauntily perched atop, like party hats. Candy’s cone took a header onto the sidewalk where it stayed, ineligible for the 10-second rule.

After Candy and I moved over to another bench which accorded a better view of the geyser, the crow made its move on the cone, snapping it up whole. The bird spent a good 5 minutes flitting around the area looking for a good place to hide its large treasure. It tried a few depressions in the ground and several hollows next to various fallen branches and roots. Finally, the bird set the cone against a large log, buried it with loose dirt, and carefully picked up a light colored leaf about the size of a silver dollar and used it to mark the hiding spot. Who knew that a crow would pick up and carefully place a marker like that?

One task remained for the crow. He came over and lectured me about the impropriety of staring at him.

Yellowstone is… well… Yellowstone. We saw everything from canyons to waterfalls the geysers to wildlife to valleys. Here are a bunch of photos and I hope you enjoy then just 1% as much as I enjoyed taking them. As always, click on each thumbnail to see a larger version.

We drove through the south entrance into the park and immediately stumbled across Moose Falls, complete with a bunch of teenagers swimming at the bottom. I wish I’d had my suit with me; the water felt wonderful.

We continued to follow the Lewis river north,

and shortly came to Lewis Falls. I do need to mention that neither Candy nor I did any significant hiking to get these shots. All of this is easily accessible from a car on the road and a short stroll after you park.

After Lewis Falls, Candy convinced me to stay in the car and keep driving, lest we see nothing beyond the doorstep of the park. With her “gentle reminders,” we got to West Thumb and spent the rest of the afternoon noodling around the hydrothermal features there.

I did not take careful notes of the name of each feature but these are roughly in order of a counterclockwise circuit around the boardwalk. This first pool had a sign near it that it is a balmy 167 degrees Fahrenheit.

The run-off steamed its way across a miniature wasteland into Yellowstone Lake.

I learned that the color of the bacteria in the water gives a clue to a pool’s temperature. Greens and blues are cooler than oranges and browns. Cooler is relative, of course.

The fumerols made me imagine the lair of a small dragon

with the blasted plain of its doorstep just a few yards away

Hunger and darkness forced us home for the night but we returned the next day and continued our tour counterclockwise around the lower loop of road in Yellowstone. We made several stops along the north side of Yellowstone Lake with the shore near Pumice Point being one of my favorites

Hayden Valley, north of Lake Village, opened spectacularly with scattered clouds painting the landscape with sunlight.

The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone with Inspiration Point, Grand View, and Lookout Point, were our northernmost goals for the day. This is, I believe, even more beautiful than “The” Grand Canyon. Walk to Grand View and look east

Continue on to Lookout Point for the canonical shot of the lower falls.

I did not hike down the trail to the base of the falls, though the sign promised I would be close enough to feel the spray on my face. The trip down didn’t look too bad but the thought of climbing back up was simply too daunting.

From the canyon, we drove west through Norris and Madison

and Firehole Canyon to reach the Lower Geyser Basin. I am certain that Tolkien and other fantasy writers must have had this landscape in mind when writing about places like Mordor. Islets of grass, surrounded by steaming hot water.

Crystal clear pits large enough to swallow a man and boil him for dinner.

Adjacent to the “smoking” pit of a truly immense dragon. What fortunes lie within, awaiting the truly brave adventurer?

And beyond the dragon… the wasteland.

Did I mention wildlife? We saw that, too. But this posting is long enough so the animals will be along shortly. Stay tuned.

So let me start by saying I have a fear of heights (meaning cliffs or high bridges or precipitous roads) and I don’t harbor any desire to become a pilot. I am not a hiker and for me wild animals have always been in zoos. This makes my perspective on our vacation a bit different from his, though the bottom line is that I loved it and would go back again. It was breathtakingly beautiful, remarkably empty, and entirely enjoyable – except for that 1.5 hour drive to the closest open medical facility to check out a bad case of food poisoning.

The pictures he has posted are a small fragment of what we gathered. The variety and scale of the natural features was astonishing. And I was thoroughly spooked by bison on the road, unconcerned by traffic, close enough to reach out and touch (though I did not). Elk made a similar crossing during that emergency room trip. It’s not so cool when you can’t stop to watch.

The flights over the mountains were not as intimidating as I’d expected. In fact, they were often exhilarating. And the view was amazingly clear. We only saw bad weather once – a thunderstorm in the mountains as we landed in Lander – but it held off till we got to the restaurant for dinner, just putting on a light show in the crags until bursting upon the town while we watched from inside.

Aside from the beauty and the wildlife and the lakes and the peaks, the clearest impression for me is the emptiness of the land we flew over and the high winds we experienced on every landing in Wyoming. Our GPS had nothing on it at all for great stretches. Empty country is beautiful. And you figure there is probably good reason for so much land to be so empty of towns. I think among the most lasting mental pictures I will carry from the flights are the stretches of Wyoming east of Lander, beautiful in an almost desert-like way.

For me, this trip was a gem to be treasured all the more because it is not one I would have chosen to take. I would have gone to a lake or oceanside. But it was hurricane season, so the mountains seemed a better choice. And Art’s enthusiasm is irresistible. I very rarely regret accompanying him on an adventure. This was no exception. I am grateful to be able to visit places like this. Whenever I do, I wonder what it would be like to live in vacation country. I realized on this trip that I am not cut out for frontier or mountain life. It’s awesomely beautiful. And I’m glad to be home in the suburbs again, despite the swamp-like climate we tolerate here, full of memories, and eager to take on another adventure soon.

This trip was doubly sweet because I got to fly my own plane. Stopping for lunch in Moose Junction provided a fitting welcome back:

After lunch, we drove north to Jenny Lake

We stopped at Jackson Lake Lodge to savor the vista from its “porch” across the valley.

There was a moose grazing in the waters just off camera but she was shy and asked that I not photograph her since I did not have the lens necessary to do justice to her face.

We continued north through the park and stopped for some fall foliage.

Yes, that photo really was taken on September 16. Get ready; the snow will be a flyin’ soon.

At the end of the day, we were rewarded with this view to the south along Jackson Lake and the Tetons.

We did actually get into Yellowstone between the last photo and the penultimate shot. But those pictures have to wait for the next posting. Y’all come back now!

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.
May God be with you and bless you:
May you see your children’s children.May you be poor in misfortune,
Rich in blessings.
May you know nothing but happiness
From this day forward.May the road rise up to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the warm rays of sun fall upon your home
And may the hand of a friend always be near.May green be the grass you walk on,
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.

I hope it is not disingenuous to wish ourselves this Irish blessing but I am doing it anyway. We leave in a few minutes for another grand, cross country adventure with our airplane. This time we are headed to the Tetons for some much needed R&R, followed by a couple of days of business in Lost Wages Las Vegas.

Once before, I flew across the Rockie mountains, but that trip hardly counts because I crossed where they are “low.” In 1988, I flew my Piper Archer from Long Beach, CA, to Manchester, NH. I crossed at the south end of the range, between Phoenix and Albuquerque. This time, we are going into the high country and I am looking for gorgeous photos.

As a flatlander, this is an exciting trip. For a change, the road is, literally, rising up to meet us.

Today is the longest day of the trip, seven hours in the air, nine hours total with two fuel/food/rest stops. We will end in Lander, WY, nestled up against this side of the Wind River range of the Rockies.

Tomorrow morning, we should have a beautiful flight up into Jackson Hole with the sun lighting the eastern face of the Tetons.