Our flight across America was underway. Part one took us to Niagara, which had been filled with nature, gambling and pretty decent all-you-can-eat Indian food. Definitely a place I would like to visit again. Next time, I would like to further investigate Nikola Tesla’s plants by the falls – there is a lot of history there. I would also like to visit the Canadian side one day, too.
But it was time to move forward, and by forward, I mean go roughly 430 NM in the opposite direction.
Reworking the Plan
With every intent of finally going to Bar Harbor, which had been our original destination in the first place, the three of us arrived at the FBO and began some final flight planning adjustments… until my dad called.
Turns out, Bar Harbor is one of the summer’s most popular and expensive destinations.
After lots of research, we finally found Rockland, Maine. The difficulty was finding an airport that met our standards—something crucial to us that we never abandoned during the course of the trip.
Safety was always priority number one, and before we committed to an airport, we ensured all the performance requirements, fueling, approaches, etc. After that, it was time for our flight to Rockland!
The Preflight Challenge
This flight was anything but a walk in the park. During the preflight, I noticed the left main needed a small boost of air.
I went over to the FBO where I found out the lead mechanic was out for lunch. Graciously, they granted me access to their portable air pump.
It was a giant, old‑fashioned air pump hiding behind some equipment in the hangar. I rolled it out to the plane and began figuring out how to even work the thing.
After a few trials, I managed to figure out how to work the nozzle and read the analog PSI indicator on the side. Then, I got under the wing and positioned myself adjacent to the main.
In the Gen 2 Cirrus, the window to access the valve stem is very small, and the valve is at an angle. I did not realize this until I peeked through the window and to my surprise, saw no valve!
An FBO worker and Dylan had to help push the plane a few inches so the valve would reach the window. Much easier said than done!
“Ok, move the plane 5 inches forward. Too much too much! Move it back!”
It didn’t help that the plane was sitting nicely in a pavement crack.
Finally it was resolved, and we were off to Rockland. The climb went very nicely, and so did the first 30 minutes of cruise.
Weathering the Great Lakes
It was not until a convective SIGMET popped up all around us that things got interesting. Being from Florida, it was not something we were not used to.
We would never intentionally fly through them, but when we would fly in the summer, chances are they would pop up from time to time. This one was by far the most intimidating.
Our objective each flight was to fly as early as possible to avoid these, but the maintenance on the tire significantly held us back. We took off well after our planned time, but only because all the forecasts looked really good.
I guess this was our welcome to summertime in the Great Lakes!
Strategizing in the Sky
We sprung into action. The first thing we did was check the METARs and TAFs at the origin, then we checked them for airports in the vicinity.
All looked mostly decent with some reporting low ceilings. We knew we had options along the flight, if need-be.
Then, we calculated how long it would take to get out of the area where the SIGMETS were and calculated how much fuel that would burn. The biggest priority was not getting into a nightmare situation and getting caught in the perfect storm: weather in every direction, exceeding our fuel capabilities.
Once we knew that information, we made a decision to continue our flight, but always monitoring the weather’s progression.
This is where we developed the habit of finding an alternate airport on course every ~20 minutes. Since the ceilings covered the ground below, we came up with a strategy to pick an airport as close to our heading as possible, and roughly 20–25 miles away.
We used the heading bug to point in that direction. That way, we were already situationally aware of potential landing strips (or at the very least, coordinates if we were to conduct an emergency landing nearby) and had all of the field’s information.
It was never perfect, but since we averaged 165 over the ground, if the field is directly on our heading, it should take 10 minutes to fly over it, then another 10 minutes until it is beyond 25 miles away.
Depending on our altitude, we would pick closer/further airports in our IFD400. This is a habit that we used every flight since, no matter the weather.
Just as we calculated, we made it through the areas of nasty weather in under an hour, and the rest of the flight was smooth sailing. We got to Rockland and shot a beautiful VFR approach over the water.
New Goals and Mascots
That’s when Dylan and I got the idea to fish.
The next day, we set off to buy a fishing pole that we would bring to every one of our destinations. We made it a goal to catch a fish in each state.
At that same store, we adopted a very special friend for the trip: The Puffin plush, which we named “Puffin.” He stuck by us for the whole trip, often sitting in the backseat with a seatbelt. Vlada also bought a moose plushie that met us every time she met up with us on the trip. They become our mascots for the journey.
We were set up with a mackerel lure and wanted to catch a bunch at the hotel’s jetty.
Spoiler: by the end of the trip and after dozens of hours spent fishing with that rod, it only ever brought us one fish… and that was by accident.
The very first time I used it, I let out one cast and found myself in a torrential downpour with lighting popping all around. A bit annoying after just spending $20 on a fishing license, but not at all worth holding a metal rod in a thunderstorm for.
I sprinted back to the hotel, and that was the end of fishing in Maine!
Plans four our next flight to Halifax soon awaited … to be continued.
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