Coast to Coast in a 65 hp Chief

B

Bob Turner

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Apr 4, 2018
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Copied mostly from my J-3 Cub forum postings:


This is a blow-by-blow description of what is probably my last lightplane transcontinental - a true adventure in a 65 hp Aeronca Chief.

Seven days, start to finish. One day lost to weather, one day lost to maintenance and a half day lost trying to find a way out of very low clouds in central Texas.

I will fill you in on some details in intermittent posts. As you read these posts, bear in mind that my first transcontinental, 52 years ago, was also 65 hp - my personal J-3.​
 
Let me start this way: as an airline captain I was often the subject of careful scrutiny by TSA folks. I recall one memorable day, in uniform, when they backed me up against a wall, arms spread, and proceeded to search my body for hidden weapons, in front of my passengers. My aircraft, a 737 at the time, was the only one departing that wing of the Austin Mueller terminal. I was not impolite, but afterward wrote the administrator.

So, being a bit tired of this routine, I avoid airline flying when possible. This time, I paid the TSA $85 to become a trusted traveler. They call it a KTN. With a special pass in my hand in San Diego I was subjected to the most intensive carry on bag inspection I have ever undergone. And I had to remove my belt!

As you might guess, I was miffed. Wasted $85, on the redeye to Orlando, and no sleep! Could not count enough sheep to get rid of that basic feeling that I had been defrauded by my own government.

So, grumpy and sleepy, I arrive at the departure point, to find the airplane not ready. After 3 hours of fooling around, I accepted an aircraft with no functioning transmitter and a faulty left brake coupled with an incorrect tailwheel caster, and no gas. Off I went, not at all sure this was not going to be a disaster.

Three hours later I was in Perry, dog tired, and went straight to the hotel. For two days, while a line of severe thunderstorms moved through.​
 
The first flight was my first experience in a Chief. Three touch and goes, and a 2 1/2 hour flight to Perry- Foley, with the rear tank weeping out of that strange gauge, making me mildly sick. Almost a good thing to spend an entire day in Perry. Folks were nice; let me keep the courtesy car for 36 hours.

Day three was uneventful, with fuel stops in Andalusia, Hattiesburg, Nachitoches (pronounced Nakeetosh) and finally Nacogdoches.

Day four was a mess - low ceilings all over central Texas, with fuel stops in Stevenville, twice (!) in Eastland, and finally in the clear at Big Spring, where I lucked out with another courtesy car. Hotels were $250/ night, but I lucked out and found one for sixty. Dinner at the Settles Hotel, the place where I really wanted to stay.

Day five was worse - it quit on final approach to Pecos. I did get it restarted with quick carb heat, fuel tank, and throttle movements. What a surprise! By keeping it above 1100 rpm I got it to the tiedowns.​
 
This Chief never failed to start - until Pecos! Then we could start it with prime, and it would sort of run with jabs of throttle and carb heat.

Long story short - I borrowed some tools from Kermit, and pulled the carb off the airplane, expecting to see a bunch of dirt in the idle circuits. Instead, I found the two halves of the carb hanging on by the last threads. Tightened all the screws, re-assembled the airplane (remember, this is Pecos, and it is 90 degrees on that ramp) and it ran like a swiss watch.

It had tried to tell me something starting in Eastland - a soft backfire now and then.

So I fixed it. Kermit put that cotter key in the throttle cable (the most difficult part) and Joseph gave me the courtesy car. Pecos, too, had $250 hotel rooms, but I found a Motel Six for half that. And lousy food at the best restaurant in town. Don't get me wrong - I like Pecos - but the center of town is Walmart!


Next day Chiefie was running like a watch - we launched at daybreak for Fabens, the more or less trivial El Paso passage (they were going to let me do it nordo, but I got the transmitter working with a simple push-to-talk arrangement) and Deming, Willcox, Eloy, Gila Bend, and finally Imperial, California, at exactly sundown.

I would have made San diego, but headwinds were 10-20 kts all day, increasing to 30 at IPL.​
 
Landing at IPL was trivial, even with gusts to 26 kts. Taxiing not so much. I did not spot the tiedown area, so decided to get behind a building. Spotted a yellow tug, and was going to get as close as possible and tie up to it, but the wind caught me and spun the airplane around.

I quickly chocked the airplane, ran over to the tug, spotted the key, started it, found reverse, and backed it in front of the airplane. Ropes were on it about that fast.

I figured I was alone - and destined to sleep in the airplane. But two nice kids appeared, said the boss would probably be pissed that I messed with his tug, and helped me find an actual tiedown spot - 200 feet from a hotel!

No open restaurant, of course, but Domino sent a pizza.


Daybreak and an unusually good "briefer" indicated that it was marginally possible to make San Diego if I left before the forecast 60 knot winds, so what the heck!

Engine running - purring! And four hours of fuel on board - the line guy untied the wings, I waved, and went to full power. I was still in the tie down area and airborne.

Eighty miles to go, and the next two and a half hours would be the most interesting and exciting of my entire 20,000 hour 56 year career.
I'll sip some coffee, and then tell you about it.​
 
So to wrap this up - off Imperial at daybreak into winds that had my groundspeed around 30 knots. Looked like it would be a long flight - almost three hours at that speed. I stayed low, since the winds increased in speed with altitude. The SoCal mountain chain is usually benign and easy, but it can be deadly in windy conditions, especially for underpowered light planes. For once, the FAA prediction of moderate turbulence in the mountains was actually true.

As I approached the eastern ridge, near Carriso Gorge, I got some lift, and took it to 6000', whereupon my ground speed slowed to seven knots on the GPS. At times, even though pointed west according to the compass, my GPS track was south! So the compromise - I could stay at six, and not move forward, or drop down and give up my insurance policy for that inevitable downdraft. Not my decision, I guess. Two miles (twenty minutes) from the ridge line the airplane started down. I angled it toward the lowest part of the ridge, with the idea that an 80 degree turn would have me eastbound, away from the ridge, if worse came to worst.

As luck would have it, the wind relented as I got lower, and I cleared the ridge by maybe 500 feet. I had lost 1500 feet in two miles, at full power.

After that it was all downhill. It only takes 4500' to clear the highest ground along the interstate, so I stayed at maybe 5000' for ten miles, watching the groundspeed continually increase, first to around 20 knots, and then halfway home it increased to a normal 70 knots.

Happy ending - the transmitter is still working, the clouds are high enough that I do not have to talk to more than one controller, and there is a rainbow to fly through five miles out on dogleg final.

Thirty five hours aloft, and seven days of adventure! You should see me now - it is couch time!

The end.​
 
I was trying to figure out the timeline of how you rode jumpseat to go pick it up but still looked like you're 23! cool plane, that's an experience everyone should try sometime.
 
That’s a great story. I just bought a ‘68 7ECA for my son and I. It will be fun for me and time builder for him as he would like to be a professional pilot and will start his journey in January. We plan on flying all over Texas.
 
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