The Oshkosh Ferry
by Tony Darby, CFII

The high temperature on July 20th was 92º, with scattered clouds at 4,000', broken at 8,800'. A weather system moved eastward through southern Missouri, crossing our flight path from North Little Rock, Arkansas (KORK), to Oshkosh, Wisconsin (KOSH). I was fortunate enough to be hired to deliver a new StingSport to Oshkosh for AirVenture 2007, where it would be picked up by the SportairUSA Wisconsin dealer, and I was looking forward to the trip.

N363N was well equipped for cross-country flight with a six-pack of flight instruments, the Garmin GPSMAP 496, Garmin VHF radio and transponder and the PCASTM collision avoidance system. We also had the new GreenLineTM engine monitoring system which I had been wanting to try out. My passenger and I would fly lead in a flight of two Stings all the way to Oshkosh.

We had planned for two fuel stops along the way. One stop was necessary. The second stop was close to Oshkosh, to insure we had sufficient fuel to wait out an extended holding pattern if we got caught in AirVenture traffic. The first leg, to Litchfield, Illinois (3LF), would be the longest leg at 294 nm.

Our take off was delayed by a number of last minute chores. About mid-morning, the XM weather display on the GPS indicated a clear path to Litchfield, provided we wrapped up the chores and got in the air, giving us the first chance to evaluate the GreenLine EMS in flight. For a quick check while accelerating through 4,000 RPM on take off it is hard to beat, and it proved useful in other situations along the way when I needed to quickly know what the engine was doing. We picked 7,500' as our cruise altitude to be above the scattered layer of clouds, and spent the duration of the climb honing our formation flying techniques.

With a crew of two, full fuel and full baggage compartments, we left the ground at MTOW and leveled out at 7,500' showing an indicated airspeed of 105 knots at 75% power (5,000 RPM), a true airspeed of 121 knots. If it weren't for the healthy headwind we'd have been making good time but our ground speed stayed between 95 and 100 knots.

The day was glorious and we were two sleek, white aircraft flying between two luminous, white cloud layers with the broad green earth spread out below. On the next leg of our flight we would have an opportunity to experience first hand the risks that such a beautiful day for flying can entail, but for now the Garmin GPS made it a simple matter to route ourselves around the weather and the Class B airspace at St. Louis.

The airport at Litchfield is a winner, with clean, well organized facilities and friendly, interesting people. We filled the Stings with 100LL and were offered the use of a van along with directions to nearby restaurants. On our return we found a flight of two T-6's warbirds fueling at the same pump, headed to Oshkosh, and hung around to watch them take off, circle back and stream smoke over the field in a high-speed pass. I wonder, is it possible to install a smoke generator on the Sting?

From Litchfield to our next planned stop prior to Oshkosh the route was clear and we were soon back at altitude, flying between the scattered and broken cloud layers. That's when we lost our wing man. Or he lost us. For the next one hundred miles the flying became very interesting. We talked to each other constantly. We flew the same route and compared GPS distances to target. We flew over and described the same landmarks so we know we were in the same vicinity. But we could not see each other: two sleek white airplanes with luminous clouds above and below. Yet all the time the PCAS collision avoidance devices in both our aircraft kept track of the distance between us and the difference in elevation. It was amazing. Even when each of us knew exactly where the other was, and sometimes the distance between us was less than a half mile, we could not see each other on a beautiful day with no haze or other atmospheric obstruction between us.

It wasn't until we made our descent for the last fuel stop that we finally reconnected visually. Knowing at this point that our wing man was ahead and below us on long final approach, it wasn't until he crossed a road just a quarter mile south of the runway that we picked him up.

Lesson learned:  It is much more difficult to see a nearby airplane than I realized. As a CFII, I'm always telling my students to spend less time looking at the instruments and more time with eyes outside the cockpit. Prior to this flight I had felt that the PCAS was probably not worth the investment. But this flight turned my preconceived notions upside down. It was highly educational to fly so close to our wing man for 100 miles without being able to see him, or vice versa, while the PCAS told us exactly how far away he was, how high or low compared to our elevation, and whether he was trending toward or away from us. I'd have to call that vital, need to know information. About halfway through that experience another aircraft crossed our path, coming within a couple of miles. We did not get a visual on that airplane either, and only knew it was there because of the PCAS. Since the range and the elevation difference were both increasing we quickly determined it was not a threat.

The flight was a joy, a learning experience and the beginning of a meeting with friends that continued over the next week. Now AirVenture 2008 beckons. I hope to see you there.

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