T-6C Seattle to Knoxville Day Two

Andy and his KRAP Yeti.

Day two began with both Andy and I awakening early, I was still on east coast time.  We chatted over hotel breakfast, and caught a Lyft to the airport.  The FBO, WestJet, has a bit of fun with the airport’s ICAO identifier, KRAP, offering KRAP branded pens, lip balm, clothing, and other trinkets.  Andy snagged a pink yeti KRAP travel mug for his significant other.

KRAP-07K

We were soon back on the plane pointed down the runway.  The plane climbed happily back into the sky as we headed south east towards Knoxville.  The leg was without event, we flew over Badlands National Park and then on to Nebraska.  This time of year, Nebraska looks like a vast brown wasteland.  It is speckled with cows, separated by dirt roads and fences.  We made a game out of finding signs of life like a moving vehicle or farm implement, and choosing places for emergency landings, whether the landing gear should be extended, and why.  As we approached Lincoln NE patches of green began to appear and we started looking for a welcoming airport to refuel.

Badlands National Park

We landed at Central City and rolled up to the fuel pumps.  Here we found a collection of guys who had gathered for their Saturday morning EAA airport project.  This group was excited to see the old warbird roll to a stop.  As we unbuckled from the web of seat belts and straps, one of them exclaimed, “You are not what we expected, but you are a welcome addition!”  

They offered us to join them for pizza, and we gave them tours of the cockpit.  They each enthusiastically introduced  themselves and asked about our travels.  They brought us inside their maintenance hangar to show off their project airplane.  They offered us lunch again.  They gave us contact information in case we passed through in the future.  They offered us lunch.

I tried to pay for the gas but was told, “No credit cards, cash or check.”

I suppose I can write a check, I have a check book in my flight bag.

EAA gang at Central City

“Or we can mail you an invoice and you can send us the check later.”

“Really?  That works for you?”  I was shocked.

The guy filling out the paperwork replied, “Yep.  In the twenty-some years I've been here, we only had one person not pay.  Airplane folk are generally good people.”

Wow.  Andy and I loaded up for Kansas – without partaking in the offered lunch.

07K-K83

The terrain below continued to become more green as we progressed south east.  In my quest to land in all 50 states, I could not pass up the opportunity to land for the first time in Kansas.  It also served as an opportunity for me to build some narrow and short (or at least shorter) confidence. 

It was a short hop from Central City to Sabetha.  Along the route, we agreed to spend time flying the plane with the gear and flaps out as slow as possible to get to feel the plane getting wobbly and how it would recover when its speed got too slow.  We found that just above 60 its wings would start to wobble and the ailerons became less effective.  OK, 60 is too slow.

I had been flying at about 80 on final, so for this next landing we discussed approaching at 70 to 75 kts.  I’m still very cautious, so in my mind I picked 75 for this first “short” field.  The runway was 3,200 feet long, and 40 feet wide.  The plane’s wingspan is 42 feet.

I set the plane on the ground, started the rudder dance, pulled the power to idle, and waited for the tail wheel to settle.  Once it was on the ground I pulled the stick hard aft into my lap and carefully applied brakes.  Too much brakes in a tail wheel airplane will cause a plane to tip up on its nose.  That is very bad.  I was cautious and applied them slowly.

We came to a stop with nearly a thousand feet of runway remaining.  I pushed the stick full forward to unlock the tail wheel and spun the plane around to taxi back to the fuel pump.

For the first time, there were no marshallers nor crowds to greet us.  I had become accustomed to a fuel stop taking at least an hour to visit with the aviation fans that had come out to see the plane.

Proof of Kansas

We filled the plane, and launched off towards our next stop.  It was only after we were 50 or so miles away that I realized I had left my sunglasses on top of the fuel pump, and the only photographic proof that I had of landing in Kansas was a picture of the aforementioned fuel pump.

K83-KPCD

Andy needed a flight review, so I had him do the flying on this leg.  The ground continued to become more green as our route briefly followed the Missouri River.  The two and a half hours between the upper right corner of Kansas and the lower right corner of Missouri slipped by quickly and we were back on the ground in Perryville MO.  Again no marshallers and no crowds to greet us, but rather a very welcome tank of $4.70 a gallon aviation fuel.

KPCD-KSRB

The next leg would put us into Madisonville right around sunset.  But the weather radar was showing an approaching system.  We took off looking east towards the yet to be seen weather.  Still blue and clear, we picked up flight following, passed over the southern tip of Illinois, and into western Kentucky.  Out to our right we could see Memphis, and soon Nashville, and then Lebanon where Andy had been awarded his Airframe and Power Plant certificate, and my local CAF is based.

It was getting dusky.  As we approached Sparta Tennessee, the controller on flight following issued me a warning that there were areas of moderate to severe rain between me and Madisonville.  I could see Sparta, and knew Crossville and Rockwood were just ahead.  Interstate 40 was clearly visible.

How bad could it be?  I pressed forward.  Shortly past Sparta, the interstate disappeared into the base of a cloud.  Nope.  Not getting the plane home tonight.  Rats.

A wall of "Nope."

I made a quick turn back to Sparta, informed the controller of our diversion, and began configuring the plane for landing.  The controller dutifully queried if we needed any assistance.  Again, having that extra set of eyes is welcome.  Thank you Mr. Controller for offering assistance, we have the airport in sight.

I set the now comfortable beast back on the runway, started the rudder dance, and waited for the tail to settle.  Stick back in my lap, the big radial engine blocks my forward view, I look to the corners of my eyes to track the runway edges, and … WHOA!  The airplane swerved left.  A millisecond of inattentiveness and I was aggressively working to keep it pointed down the runway.  The monster I had become comfortable with was nipping at my ankles, reminding me to never relax.

Andy and I secured the airplane, and my long-suffering wife made the drive out to the airport to pick us up.

Andy booked an airline flight, well actually several flights, from Knoxville to Sacramento to get back in time to celebrate Mother’s Day with his significant other.  Very early the next morning I dropped him off at the Knoxville airport and went home to get some more sleep.

KSRB-KMNV

After church, Sandra and I made another trip out to Sparta.  Alone in the plane for the trip from Sparta to Madisonville, I looked at the cloud bases to try to find a place that gave me enough room to do some aileron rolls, but to no avail.  There was enough space to fly comfortably, but not enough for me to safely roll the plane.  That will have to wait for another day.

Epiloge

Four days of flying, 12 airports, and I was back where I started.  19 more hours of T-6 time in the log book.

T-6C Seattle to Knoxville Day One

All my stories seem to have a backstory. This one goes back a couple years.

My favorite P210

While I was flight instructing, I acquired a client with a very nice Cessna P210.  This thing was and still is a beautiful airplane.  The client decided to sell the airplane.  He contracted the services of Airplane Mode Sales who quickly found a buyer for the plane.  The buyer needed transition training and since I had the most recent experience in the plane, I was called on to give the training.

The new owner adapted quickly and was a great student.  The process gave me an opportunity to get to know the owner of Airplane Mode Sales, Jared Segebart.  Despite Jared selling one of my favorite airplanes out from under me, Jared and I became friends.

When I was younger, I had a dream of flying.  But not just any flying.  I wanted to fly warbirds.  I wanted to be the guy that collectors asked to fly their World War II fighters.  Specifically, I wanted to fly P-51 Mustangs.  As I've gotten older that dream has faded, but owning and flying the trainer for Mustang came within reach.  The AT-6, or just T-6, was the trainer for the Mustang, and to this day remains the gateway to flying any of the larger warbirds.

Bill and Lee inspects the airplane

Several months back I mentioned to Jared my interest in owning a T-6.  In February, Jared contacted me with an opportunity to acquire an airplane out of Bremerton Washington.  I had my friend, Bill Rogers, inspect the airplane and he gave it a clean bill of health – or at least as clean as an 83-year-old airplane can be.

I flew out and made a deal to purchase the airplane and begin to make arrangements to fly the airplane back to Knoxville.

I had previously accumulated about 50 hours of time flying various T-6s.  But the last time I flew one was in the middle of 2020.  It had been five years.  I knew I wanted someone I trusted looking over my shoulder, keeping me from making bad decisions.  My friend Andy agreed to make the trip with me.

Yankin' and bankin' west of Bremerton

We agreed to meet up in Seattle.  My daughter picked us up at SeaTac airport and drove us to Bremerton where the airplane had been stored.  We looked the airplane over carefully, started it up and took it for a lap around the pattern.  Once the airplane was off the ground, the memories flooded back.  The plane's recently refreshed engine pulled us aggressively into the sky.  The airplane was back in its element.  I turned the controls over to Andy and he did some lazy eights while we both grinned uncontrollably.

We were soon pointed back towards the airport.  As I entered the traffic pattern, I configured the airplane for landing.  I came in a little bit fast on final.  Gently set the main landing gear on the runway for my first wheel landing in five years. After a brief stop, I pushed the power forward and the plane leapt back into the sky for another lap.  Again, the landing was without event and I had it up for another lap.

For this landing, I wanted to slow the airplane down a little more into a three-point position for my final landing.  I let the airplane get a little slow and it sank on to the runway and bounced.  I added power to recover the bounce, and went to set it back on the runway when it bounced a second time.  At that point I knew it was time to go around.

Power up, pitch up, clean up, and fess up.  I knew exactly what I had done wrong, and that there is no shame in giving up on a bad plan.  It came around again for the final landing, I set it down on its wheels and rolled it to a stop.

We awoke early the next morning, my internal clock was still on east coast time, and headed to the airport to start the trip home.  We launched to the north, and called up the Seattle Approach controllers for clearance through the Seattle busy airspace.  At first we were told to remain clear.  The 600 horsepower radial engine was pulling the plane up at over 1,000 feet per minute.  If we continued to climb, we could go over their airspace that topped out at ten thousand feet.  After an extended delay, I had resigned to the fate of being required to climb over the top, turned back to the south and continued upward.

Mt. Rainier to the south of our course

As we passed through five thousand feet, the radio cracked to life.  “Niner two seven two charlie, you are cleared to operate in class Bravo airspace, climb direct to the Seattle VOR, and resume own navigation.”

A left turn pointed us directly at the SeaTac airport.  We crossed over the airport at nine thousand five hundred feet and pointed the airplane east at the Cascade Mountain range.  I leaned out the fuel-air mixture and switched tanks.

The T-6 typically has 2 fuel tanks.  The right tank’s fuel pickup will drain the tank of all of its usable fuel (about 50 gallons) and the left tank's pickup tank will drain the tank of 30 gallons.  The reserve setting selects a second pickup in the left tank to give you access to the final 20 gallons from the left side.

Quincy WA.  Our very good friends live here

We cleared Snoqualmie pass, and I switched the GPS to go directly to Mullen Pass, the low point in the Rocky Mountains where I-90 crosses east of Spokane.  The flight was mostly uneventful, and we had a healthy push from the winds out of the west that kept the ground speed between 160 and 175 knots (a knot is about 1.15 statute miles. So 175 knots is just over 200 mph).

The flight was uneventful, and I was learning the subtleties of the airplane.  And then the engine sputtered.  That’ll get your attention.  Even at 9,500 feet with lots of gliding distance it will get your attention.  Along with the sputter, the fuel pressure amber light was glowing in front of me.  A quick turn of the fuel tank valve to the right tank restored the engine’s growl and extinguished the amber warning light.

Ok, we’re down to 20 gallons on the left tank.  The right tank is still showing over 30 gallons.  At 25 gallons an hour, that’s about 2 hours left, with no reserve.  Regulations require planning to land with at least 30 minutes of fuel, but this is a new-to-me airplane.  I know what the book says it should burn in an hour, but does this engine match the book?  I don’t want to take the chance of pushing the airplane’s fuel that far down without knowledge.  We decided to stop in Missoula instead of pressing on to Helena.  We were lined up for a nice left downwind to the runway, and the landing was uneventful.

First stop, Missoula MT

The FBO in Missoula greeted us with a “marshaller” or a guy on the ground who uses hand signals to direct us into a parking space.  With a large tail wheel airplane that you cannot see over the engine, a marshaller standing off to one side giving hand signals is a welcome assist.  Once the airplane was shut down, enthusiastic folks came out to see the plane asking if it was OK to take pictures.  That’s an easy “yes!”  It costs me nothing to let them capture a memory.  I also offered to let the staff climb up on the wing and into the cockpit.  I quickly had a line of about four of the staff and flight instructors patiently waiting their turn.

Andy and I rehydrated, and grabbed a spare water bottle each, climbed back in, and soon we were making our way further east.  Not a lot happened on the leg between Missoula and Sheridan Wyoming, other than passing near a coal mine.  On landing I swung wide over the city to line up on downwind, arcing first to the right and descending to pattern altitude, and then entering the pattern on the downwind forty-five.  Again my fears of the big heavy airplane’s reputation came to naught as we landed uneventfully.

Sheridan WY

As we taxied up for fuel we were met again by a marshaller, this one did not have the training the previous one had and ended up directly in front of the plane, where I could not see him.  I shut the plane down there.  Once unloaded we were greeted by a former client of Andy’s from the Sacramento area.  Andy had trained him to fly tail wheel in a Taylorcraft that was later purchased for an internet “stunt” that resulted in the plane’s destruction.  Aviation is a small community.  Meanwhile I debriefed with the marshaller, encouraging him to ALWAYS stay where he could see the pilot’s eyes, admonishing him that if he could not see the pilot’s eyes, the pilot could not see him and all the hand signals would do no good.

My pass over the city alerted locals to the arrival of an airplane they were not accustomed to, which brought out the aviation fans.  Again, polite questions of “may we take pictures?” and people accepting invitations to climb into the cockpit.  One young boy was probably about eight or ten years old, and had the biggest grin on his face.  His excitement alone was the highlight of the stop for me.

Full of fuel, we had just one short hop left to get to Rapid City for the night.  I've written in the past about my fondness for Rapid City.  Our direct path would take us about 15 miles south of Devil’s Tower, of “Close Encounters” fame.  There is a notation on the VFR chart requesting aircraft to stay three nautical miles away.  I set a point on my GPS over the tower, and turned towards it.  As we approached 3 miles out, I turned to point the right wing at the tower and flew an arc around the tower, working to stay three or more miles away as Andy took pictures.

Make your Flight Plan at SkyVector.com

End of day one in Rapid City SD

Our arrival into Rapid City was again without excitement.  We were marshaled into parking at WestJet and secured for the night.  As we unloaded, I noticed that my left main was still fully extended.  I tried to bounce it down, but to no avail.  A 6,000 pound airplane is simply not a good candidate for one guy to move.  Andy recommended tapping the brakes while taxing next time.  We called and booked a room at my favorite Rapid City hotel complex, but was disappointed to learn they no longer had a shuttle service. Oh well, Lyft still works here. Andy and I had a nice dinner at the water park, walked back to the room, called our respective “significant others” and shortly after drifted off to sleep.