Day: February 29, 2016

Wim had been waiting patiently for about an hour for me to arrive on Friday as I was running something over an hour late compared to my flight plan. Not only had the strobe light incident and the enforced comfort break delayed me but I’d also achieved a lower than anticipated groundspeed. Partly this was due to the fact that I’d limited my revs in the cruise to 4250 rpm as I had no feel for what fuel consumption I might get and there were limited options to land and top up the tanks on the route that I’d chosen.

Those revs only resulted in an airspeed of around 140 kmh compared to the 150 kmh that I’d used in my flight planning, and on top of that, the indications were that there was more of a headwind element than had been forecast. However, being a pilot himself, Wim appreciated why I had to fly in a conservative manner and luckily he had been able to sit in my car and listen to a CD – the same one the whole time, unfortunately, as he told me that he had no idea how to turn it off 😀

We decided that as Regis had recently sold his Zen 701, the best idea would be to move ASY to where his aircraft had been parked, the more so because some heavy weights and tie-downs had been left there which we could use for the Savannah. There were also some covers, but I told Wim that I was reluctant to use them for fear of their scratching ASY’s paintwork in the wind, so we just tied the Savannah down and went off for what was for me a very welcome cup of tea at Wim and Sophie’s place.

However, as soon as I saw how wet the weather forecast was for the coming week, I knew that I had to reconsider my decision about using the covers, and with rain forecast for later in the day and also for several more days in the coming week, I loaded my own lightweight covers together with a bag of bungees in the back of my car on Saturday and arrived at Galinat late morning to apply them. My main problem with Regis’s old covers were that they were very heavy and if placed on the wings, they could easily damage the light tubular air vents that are mounted on the Savannah’s fuel filler caps. I thought that my lighter covers would prevent that.

Unfortunately, shortly after I arrived at the airfield, the rain arrived early and like it or not, I had to put the covers on while it began falling more and more heavily. In the end, I was pretty much soaked and my clothes covered in muddy marks from the dirt that was already on the old covers that I was reusing. But it was lucky that I had decided to do the job, because when I opened the cabin door and looked inside just as I was starting, I noticed a small but steady drip of water through the seal of the cabin top window and onto the left hand leather seat back below, which stopped as soon as I put a cover over the top.

When I think how the Savannah had been kept safely for many years in a nice warm hangar, it was sad to see how it looked at the end of the job. Sure, it must have been more protected than if it were just parked in the open, but it looked a bit of a sorry sight to behold. Here are some shots, the first taken just after I arrived at Galinat when ASY was still uncovered, and the later ones with the covers on and the rain still lightly falling.

OK, it’s only a temporary arrangement until ASY can be moved over into the barn at Malbec and it must be better for it to be covered in the meantime rather than just be left out in the open. Nevertheless, it almost feels as though I’ve desecrated it somehow, by making it look so awfully scruffy 🙁

I went over to Galinat to check on things this afternoon on my way back from the supermarket. Apart from the fact that the wind had blown the cover off that I’d placed on the empennage, things didn’t look quite so bad in the sunshine as the following pictures show that were taken before I left after I’d secured the tail cover more firmly.

I’ll have to decide what happens now, of course. I’ll know soon how long Philippe will have to keep his Citius in the barn at Malbec while he repairs his hangar roof. If it’s only going to be a few more days, much as I’d like to be flying ASY when I get the chance whenever there’s a weather window, I think I’ll just leave things as they are because, quite honestly, as I know only too well from experience, removing and replacing covers is a real pain. However, if things are going to drag on for a longer period, I’ll have to look at the options again to decide which direction to take.

So after an exciting and very pleasurable day’s circuit flying at la Ferté the day before – 55 minutes in the morning and 45 minutes in the afternoon – the day finally dawned to make the flight down to la Dordogne. Despite the forecast that the morning would be cold early on but would warm up by 10.00 am, the temperature nevertheless stayed stubbornly below freezing with a heavy frost and ice on the hangar apron.

The main result was that the layer of ground-hugging mist that hung over the land as far as the eye could see, refused to budge even after the sky adopted a sunnier, bluer hue with thinning clouds. However, I knew that the further south I flew the better the conditions would become and as the visibility otherwise appeared pretty good, I decided that the time had come to take off.

The Savannah had had its tanks topped up the previous evening and both Robert and I had given it a thorough inspection, so there was no need for further delay. And then the only event that marred the day occurred while I was moving the aircraft. Due to an error of judgement on my part, the right wing tip lightly skimmed against an obstacle. Luckily this resulted in no damage to the wing tip itself, save for a little bit of paint scuffing, but it broke the strobe light, dammit!

This was upsetting but was not a disaster as after a roll of gaffer tape had been produced, the light fitting was taped over to make it OK for the flight and in no time I was taxying out to runway 22. After checking the T’s and P’s and mag drops, I lined up and applied full power. ASY accelerated down the runway, but things felt different to the day before. Today the acceleration was much slower and after travelling what seemed like a couple of hundred metres, perhaps more, down the runway, I decided to abort the take off.

Just before I closed the throttle, however, I noticed that the engine revs were where they should be, so I concluded that the engine itself wasn’t the problem. The difference was just down to the extra weight on board, full tanks compared to half tanks the day before, and the state of the runway.

Previously I’d been using 04 whereas today I was on 22 and I then remembered that Robert had warned me about the state of the surface at that end. So as I turned off the runway and began to taxi back to the holding point, I waved Robert away as he began to approach the aircraft as I taxied to investigate what he thought was a potential problem.

I told him over the radio that I didn’t think that anything was wrong and that I was going to give it another go, which is what I did. And this time I kept well to the left of the centreline and got away, albeit with a bit more of a take off roll than previously. As I climbed away, I bade ‘Au revoir’ to the guys on the ground and then began to turn my attention to the flight. The mist, as I’d expected, wasn’t a problem once I was airborne and the vis was actually pretty good, despite there being no defined horizon at that time, as the next picture that I took shortly after getting to about 2000 feet shows.

My first waypoint, Provins and then a shallow turn to the right.

And a short while later, a spectacular view of a canal and system of lakes bounded by the towns of Vimpelles, Bazoches-lès-Bray and Châtenay sur Seine, a few tens of kilometres to the north of the Loire.

Now approaching the town of Gien on the northern bank of the river Loire, with it’s distinctive northern road and roundabout layout that’s also clearly visible on Google Earth.

A shot taken at the time on the other side of the aircraft of one of the many power stations dotting the landscape in this part of France belching out their clouds of steam into the atmosphere.

Now a couple more shots passing overhead Gien and the Loire itself.

It was about this time that I began to experience, let’s just say, some discomfort in the nether regions. I’d had my usual ‘hotel’ kind of breakfast of cornflakes, croissant, orange juice and coffee but that had been some time ago, and although I’d drunk another small coffee since then, I’d taken the opportunity to pee a couple of times before taking to the air.

There is a tube that brings heat from the engine into the Savannah’s cabin but it’s not that efficient and it was not exactly what you could warm in there, so I guess that the principal factor was the cold. But what was more important was the effect that it was beginning to have. I saw the aerodrome at Aubigny pass under my right wing and toyed with the idea of landing there before deciding to continue on. I still had a good couple of hours flying to do but I thought that I’d be able to make it while still avoiding any unfortunate personal accidents.

But it was not to be. Within half an hour the need to pee had become extremely urgent, to the point that I knew that if I wasn’t able to do something about it pretty soon, the matter would be taken out of my hands, so to speak! And then a vision passed before my eyes. As I gritted my teeth, I looked below and saw, as revealed on my GPS, the aerodrome at Issoudun passing almost vertically below me. So I took an instant decision!

There was a total absence of movement on the aerodrome because, as I found out afterwards, the aero club there is for ‘planeurs’ (gliders) and they obviously wouldn’t be flying on such a day in such weather. So I cut the gas, shoved the nose down and hurtled earthwards like an express lift. Issoudun has a multiplicity of long grass runways and I didn’t care that I’d be landing downwind on the main one as there was plenty of length to stop in. I put 20 degrees of flap on and I have to admit, slightly exceeded the flap speed limit in my haste to get down, but landed safely, taxied up to the hangar, cut the engine, jumped out and raced across to the corner of the building.

The relief was absolute bliss. I peed twice before taking off again to resume my journey south and here’s a shot I took of ASY in front of Issoudun’s cafe/bar and hangar before climbing back in and restarting the engine. Important Memo – for my next long flight, come prepared with a large, wide necked plastic bottle 🙂

I back-tracked on Issoudun’s main runway and took off into wind, which had me heading in the ‘wrong’ direction after take off. So I then just put ASY into a steep climbing right-hand turn, much as I’d experienced with the owner of the Savannah I flew in in the Mourbihan the day after I’d first seen ASY, and was soon back at altitude and on track.

I’d already left Argenton some way behind me and just off to my right after taking off from Issoudun was Chateuroux, with its large airport, soon followed by Vierzon, all places with names well-known by drivers heading south on the the main A20 autoroute, known as ‘l’Occitane’. But my mode of travel was much more rapid than theirs. It had taken me almost 8 hours a day or so before to get from Plazac to la Ferté Gaucher and now I would be making the return journey in under 4. And the next large city that I’d be passing abeam was Limoges. Here are a couple of shots of the countryside in between.

As I already knew following my flight south nearly 4 years ago in MYRO, the ground rises up ahead of Limoges and as I’d been flying mostly at 2000-2500 feet, I had to climb up to nearly 3000 to maintain good terrain clearance. Here’s a shot that I took out of my left window.

And here’s a shot that I took at the same time in the opposite direction, showing high ground and houses on about the same level as I was at.

Just afterwards I passed east abeam the city of Limoges, which is visible in the distance in the next shot.

Apart from a brief period of severe turbulence that caused me little discomfort as ASY is a responsive and comfortable aircraft, the rest of the flight was fairly uneventful. Here’s a shot of the typical Limousin/Aquitaine countryside that I passed over.

Eventually the familiar and welcome sight of Montignac hove into view and shortly after I was preparing myself for a landing at Galinat. By setting up a long final from just south-east of Thonac, I was able to get my speed down enough to apply 20 degrees of flap, which I knew would give me ample opportunity to pull up on Galinat’s upward sloping runway. The plan worked a treat and I had to apply power, as usual, to taxy up to the top end where Wim had been patiently awaiting my arrival.

It was very satisfying to taxy ASY round to Regis’s aircraft’s old parking place, and even more so to go off for a most welcome cup of tea with Wim and Sophie after we’d tied ASY down and made everything secure. A great flight of dead on 4 hours, excluding the comfort-break midway 😉