The alarm clock on my somewhat dated iPhone began to vibrate at 3:30am the morning of December 29th, awakening me from a state of half sleep and unrest. Excited but weary, I climbed out of bed and headed towards the kitchen where caffeine was surely to be found. Upon checking my phone while rummaging through the refrigerator, there was a flight alert that my Delta flight from Intercontinental Airport in Houston, TX had been delayed from 6:45am to 8:44am. “A great start to this…” I thought to myself as I typed out a text message to my father and ride to the airport. My father, who had just recently retired and had resigned himself to sleeping in would welcome the news other than the fact that he was already up, showered and getting in his truck to come get me. After a brief conversation it was decided that we would delay our departure by two hours as the flight had been. I crawled back into bed.
1130Z, 0530 local, my phone again chimed out that it was time for me begin the journey for the second time today. The ride to the airport was about what was expected from a father nervous about his son (albeit his son, I, am into my 30’s) making an 1100nm trip from IAH to Range Regional Airport in Hibbing, MN only to return in a single engine piston aircraft in record cold temperatures. Warnings of weather, temperatures and go/no-go decisions prevailed on the 45 minute drive from Montgomery, TX down into Houston. Upon arrival, a hug and a handshake were exchanged as he wished me luck and safe travels. It was 40F as I walked from his truck into terminal A.
Making my way to the automated ticket dispensing thingamajig, I was made aware that the delay in my flight to Minneapolis would cause a missed connection to Hibbing so I proceeded to the special cases desk to find resolution. I patiently waited as a disgruntled Delta employee was arguing with a couple non-citizens about ID’s not matching the passports they were trying to use as my head spun with concern knowing the only other flight into the thriving metropolis of Hibbing wouldn’t arrive until 9:54pm local time when I had planned to get a start home that afternoon. Finally, after many minutes of internal debate it was my turn to the counter.
I greeted the woman as pleasantly as I could given my frustration at this point and let her know my dilemma. She reaffirmed that the only other flight into Range Regional would depart at 8:30pm local time but she would keep my ticket on the original flight as well in the event that it was delayed and I could in fact catch the connection. Nothing to debate, nothing to argue so I gave her my checked back with my winter gear and the tool bag I keep in my airplanes. You know, just in case. My bag tipped the scales at 58 pounds and she advised that I needed to get it to 50. Interestingly enough, I weighed said bag at 51 pounds the night before on a scale at home. After rearranging and pulling an aircraft tie down kit from my tool bag and adding it to the already 80 or so in the Kelty pack on my back, we made it down to the required weight and I was free to head towards the TSA line and then, ultimately, the gate.
The flight to Minneapolis was uneventful; it was even a few minutes early to the adjusted arrival time so that was a plus. In flight, I was able to find out from one of the flight attendants that the flight from MSP to HIB had been delayed and that if I hurried I could likely catch it. Luckily, I was able to get to the connecting gate as the boarding door was opening. Other than the gate attendant having to call the help line to get my seat assignment, things were finally looking up for the first time on this trip. It was 2F as I walked through the jetway to find my seat in 6C.
Waiting to board in MSP
Landing at Range Regional Airport in Hibbing, MN I was greeted by temps of -8 F as I made my way towards baggage claim. As I half expected, my luggage would not arrive until the 9:54pm arrival of the Delta CRJ200. Of course, as mentioned it was -8F and with the wind-chill it was projected to -20F. My luggage, of course, with my cold weather gear was MIA. Luckily, I had been told that the airplane I had come to see had been put inside a heated hangar and the cabin heater was excellent. I met the owner, Tim, in the terminal. After a brief conversation with the Delta folks about the late arrival of my checked bag, we made our way over to the hangar where I would get my first look at N4609T.
Surprise number 1, it wasn’t white! In all of the discussion, emails and pictures I assumed the airplane was white. It is actually a cream type color that began to grow on me immediately. The airplane was as advertised – it’s a recent Oshkosh winner and it was immaculate. I wanted to get it out and fly it as quickly as possible to make sure that we made the wire transfer deadline so I put on every piece of clothing I had with me and we opened the hangar door and rolled it out onto the frozen tarmac. After getting the oil up to a safe temperature, we performed a mag check, cycled the prop and headed for runway 31. As the throttle was pushed towards the firewall, the tail was already up and with a single notch of flaps we effortlessly took the sky after 150’of ground roll. Making our way over the frozen Minnesota countryside, Tim took me through the functionality of the JPI, fuel flow and other cockpit gadgets that I didn’t have direct experience with. I was tickled with the airplane so after a brief flight we headed back to the relative warmth of the hangar.
Test flight over one of the mines near Hibbing, MN and Range Regional Airport
From the air, I had sent a text message back to family in Houston with instructions to wire the agreed upon funds to his account, thinking that we could wrap this up well before the wire deadline. We went through the books and all the FAA docs to get ownership and registration transferred and headed back into the FBO to confirm receipt of payment. It was 2:45pm local time when the wire was requested, however, it had already been established due to missing luggage that departure on this day would not be an option. Around 4:00pm, Tim called his bank after reminding me that if the funds did not post all of the banks would be closed until January 2nd due to the holiday – that had never crossed my mind!
My wife and parents were all either at a branch location or on the phone with the bank trying to understand why this so-called instant wire transfer had yet to arrive. Finally, after many calls to verify Tim’s bank had not received the wire and a long call with our bank it was established that the wire was held up in the fraud department as they “saw no relation to me and Tim”. I didn’t know that was a prerequisite to sending someone money! After what seemed like hours, they finally released it at 4:48pm. Tim immediately called his bank as I reminded him it was approaching quitting time on a Friday afternoon. A lady answered the phone only to tell him she had already logged out of the banks systems and was about to head home to her family. Ultimately, after some pleading and explaining she was able to log back in and confirm the payment had arrived – with literally seconds to spare. You could say it came down to the wire.
Range Regional Airport has some nice meeting rooms and pilot study rooms, one of which became my home for the night. I settled in and modified my best laid route home with the new departure date and goal destination for the following day as I awaited the arrival of the rest of my baggage. I decided that I would fly around MSP airspace as 09T does not have a transponder and I would try to get fuel at an airport outside of Kansas City for my first stop. After retrieving my luggage, I settled into the recliner to catch some sleep in anticipation of the extreme low temperatures for the following morning along with the 1,100nm journey to my home base.
I awoke to low ceilings, a pot of coffee and a granola bar. The departure was originally planned for 7:30am but a quick look out the window would reveal that to not be an option for a VFR airplane and pilot. As I meandered around the FBO sitting room and kitchen, the flight data on the FBO computer showed temperatures of -24F with a wind-chill factor netting down to -48F. Ouch. My body had never experienced that kind of cold. What was intriguing though, was the -4,000’ density altitude that accompanied the current weather conditions. At long last, the low ceilings began to scatter to the south, clearing my departure back towards Texas. At a DA of -4,000’, I was off the runway before I knew what had even happened and I made my turn into the sun and back to the south to begin the long anticipated trek home.
Sunny but hazy view as I made my departure towards the south from Rwy. 31
Pulling the prop back, I found the airplane only to be making about 2200rpm as I settled on my course. It was not a huge concern as I knew it had to be related to the cold. Cycling the prop a few times combined with rising oil temps quickly remedied the issue and with the 25mph tailwind we were quickly zooming to the south at 150mph over the ground. Skirting around Minneapolis airspace, Minnesota and into Iowa and Missouri became simply a blur of frozen landscape.
The frozen north as I meandered south through MN, IA, and MO
While not flying NORDO, I felt naked in a way without a transponder. No transponder means no flight following, no mode C access and overall fewer options for stops near civilization. Knowing that, I planned a stop at KEZZ east of Kansas City but outside of the mode C veil. The runway was noted to be in good shape on AirNav and 100LL was readily available. I should mention that this Maule is on 35” Alaskan Bushwheels. I had never personally flown on 35’s, however, my first Maule and even a Pacer I had for a little while were on 31’s. In all of that time, I had never put bushwheels on pavement, yet, here I was, a long way from home in a brand new airplane about to have to do it. Even thinking back on it now makes me cringe. Regardless, the landing was a non-event. If only the fueling process would have been that easy…
The JPI outside air temperature reading had steadily been on the rise as I made my way south but the last I recall before this stop showed to be about -6F. Grabbing my jacket and a pair of light gloves to be able to work the credit card machine at the pump, I positioned the ladder and started fueling. After fueling the left side main and aux tanks, my hands hurt so badly that I left the hose on the ground and sprinted across the snow and ice back to the little pilots lounge building. I wouldn’t go as far as to call it an FBO but in the buildings semi-heated state along with some hand warmers it still took several minutes to regain movement and sensation in my fingers. As I braved the weather again with no idea what the wind-chill effect on temperature was I found that the pump had timed out automatically and I had to start the payement, ground verification and the balance of the pump gibberish all over again.
Once I got close to Kansas City, the snow began to disappear
Finally fueled and hands recovered again I climbed into the cockpit to continue my journey. As soon as I was airborne I was close to the mode C so I called Kansas City approach and asked for a clearance through the veil direct to what was to be my destination of 2F7 in Commerce, TX. The communication started amicable enough but deteriorated quickly. It went something like this,
“Kansas City approach, Maule 4609erTango”
“Maule 09erTango go ahead”
“Maule 09erTango request transition with no transponder through mode C direct 2Foxtrot7”
“Maule 09erTango approved , squawk XXXX”
“Kansas City approach, unable, transponder INOP Maule 09erTango”
“Maule 09erTango stay clear Kansas City airpace”
“WILCO, Maule 09erTango”
I made the request halfway just to know what to expect of requests in the future. There are some grass strips I have access to inside the mode C at home – well, maybe HAD access to. Diverting around Kansas City airspace, I had lost a lot of my tailwind and was only making about 130mph ground speed at this point enroute to Commerce, TX. Passing into a little sliver of Kansas and then to northern Oklahoma the snow on the ground began to fade away. With the retreat of the snow, however, came the onset of a lowering ceiling.
Chasing the high pressure front on my way down from the great white north I was catching where it was making contact with the low it was pushing south. Passing into Oklahoma, I was down to a mere 1300’, 20 minutes later there was ice beginning to accumulate on the windscreen and I could see some deposits on the leading edges of the wing. All of this was making me uneasy and as I got over Lake Tenkiller with ceilings continuing to close down around me in northeastern OK I had reached my no-go decision. No sooner had I had started my turn when I was in complete IMC. Keeping my turn rate steady and my focus on the vertical speed, 15 or 20 seconds later I broke back out of it. The nearest airport was KTQH, Tahlequah, Oklahoma, which, ironically, was one of my initially planned stops before being delayed.
The grass looked inviting but with too many unknowns and the airplane now with some ice on it I opted for the pavement yet again. Taxiing up to the FBO, there was a Christmas party in full swing that the airport manager was throwing for some family and locals. Luck would have it that he was there and he even was able to accommodate a vacant hangar for which I was extremely grateful. Had I been smart, I would have fueled the airplane upon landing, but we’ll get to that.
The Maule tucked in a temporary home while I wait out the weather in Oklahoma
I landed Tahlequah around 3:30pm on Saturday, the 30th. By 4:30pm the party had cleared out, I had taken care of the airplane and stowed my belongings in the FBO’s quiet room. The futon and recliner that hung my frigid clothing and jackets would soon be old friends as I would be stuck there for close to 40 hours. The airport manager, Greg, did warn me about company and sure enough the following morning on New Year’s Eve there was a gaggle of old timers sitting around talking airplanes, motorcycles, coffee and the Bailey’s crème liquor they were spicing things up with on a Sunday morning before church. I got a real kick out of hearing some of their stories and was sad to see them trickle out to start their day one by one, leaving me with a couple basic channels on a 17” tube TV to entertain myself.
My unplanned residence for two nights
I tracked the weather all day long and perused several sites, this being one of them. Conditions were VFR at KTQH where I was but there was freezing and mixed precipitation starting around the Red River and all the way south to the Gulf of Mexico with ceilings not to exceed 500’. A friend of mine, Russell, who flies a Beaver among other things that had set me up with a hangar at 2F7 in Commerce, checked in on me that afternoon to see if I had made any progress. I let him know that while I probably could have made it to 2F7 without issue, I did not want to put anyone out or affect anyone’s plans for that Sunday or New Year’s Eve so I was staying put. To my wife’s dismay, it would be our first New Year’s not being spent together, but I assured her that me coming home a day later in a fancy aeroplane was much better than stiff as aboard in a pine box. If she knew what the life insurance payout would be, I’m not sure she would have agreed with me on that conjecture.
Finally, after being confined to the FBO other than getting dinner in the old Chevy pickup that was the courtesy car for going on two days, the weather was looking like it was going to cooperate. I drank coffee with the old timers again as I had the day prior and got the airplane loaded while playing back some of their stories in my mind. Out of the hangar into the chilly 6F air with a stout breeze, the airplane came to life and after getting some warmth in the oil I taxied back to the 100LL pump outside the FBO. I made mention of the fact that if I was smart I would have already put fuel in it – apparently the pump is a finicky ‘ol girl and it would appear that she was just about frozen solid. After getting 2 gallons in 5 minutes I gave up the effort and decided to proceed to the nearby airport in McAlester for fuel. One of the gentlemen there drinking coffee did me a favor and called ahead, said the fuel truck would be running and they would be ready for me when I got there.
You can see the ice on the lakes in Oklahoma and the resulting radiation fog in some parts
As it turns out, half of that was true. The grass at McAlester had obviously been mown at some point recently and it was clear that there were no ditches or other hazards to be seen between the active runway 02 and the taxiway. After getting the chance to finally put the bushwheels back on a friendly surface, I taxied clear and shut down. The fuel truck was in fact sitting in front of the little FBO idling away in the frigid Oklahoma sun. I don’t know if there was a self-serve pump that was INOP or if full service was the only option but the FBO attendant who was probably in his 70’s quickly informed be that he would not be climbing on a ladder to fuel the airplane. “No problem” I thought to myself, “it will save me a few bucks anyway”, except, it didn’t. I guess beggars can’t be choosers, but paying the premium full service price only to pump my own fuel with the wind-chill undoubtedly below zero wasn’t the highlight of my day to say the least.
Finally, I was hitting the home stretch. One of the things I was liking the most about this new airplane was the long range fuel. With 63 gallons on board I had plenty of fuel to make it, however, shortly after crossing the Red River my bladder decided otherwise. After a quick stop in Bonham it was southbound again and I had decided that I would stop in at Thiefneck Field to see an old friend. An hour later, I landed his grass strip on Lake Limestone with surface winds blowing steadily close to 20mph and gusting sporadically in all directions. I’m not a geosciences expert but it seems like whatever the rest of the state is doing you can plan on doubling it at his place there on the water. While showing him around the new ride, I opened up the cowl and pulled a piece of tape off the blocked oil cooler as I was finally getting oil temps approaching 200 degrees. Astounding as it may seem, the 20-something degree temperatures were a welcome relief for this Texas native after what felt like several days in the arctic.
The Red River bordering Texas and Oklahoma was a welcome sight
Stopped in at Thiefneck Field on Lake Limestone
No sooner had I gotten airborne again and my wife sent me a text message letting me know that she wanted to come out and see the airplane. Although we have a little cabin out on the ranch, we live about 45 minutes away. She would undoubtedly have to collect our daughter and her gaggle of stuffed comfort devices so I opted to divert to Navasota, the closest fuel stop from my home base, to top off for whatever the next flight op might be. Landing Navasota Municipal with a north wind is always a trip, any onlookers there that might be unfamiliar with the hush hush grass operations think you are going off the end of the runway. At the north end of runway 35 there is about 900’ of grass with road base under it from where the 5000’ runway was once moved and further displaced from highway 105 that borders the north end of the airport. I touched down and had to smile a little bit inside as the pavement pilots tracking the VOR heard me call out a back taxi to taxiway Alpha.
Upon reaching the fuel pump, I discovered that I had found my third 100LL pump that was INOP for the day. Luckily, I know the father and son that run the FBO and as I was talking to Mike Sr. on the phone and him suggesting I talk to Jr., Michael Jr. pulled up to the pilots lounge in his pickup. Finally, after clearing some data on the machine with his laptop, I was again homebound. No more than 10 minutes later I could make out the giant obscenity of a red barn our neighbor built off the south end of my 1000’ grass strip. Little did I know, my wife had organized a little welcoming committee that included not only her and my soon to be 2 year old daughter, but my parents as well. Landing about midfield to prevent an excessive taxi, it was as if the Maule knew we were home. She planted it right on the runway at the windsock and settled nicely onto my bumpy little stretch of mowed pasture. Taxiing up, I realized I had spectators and as I waved hello to my little girl I dodged the house and powerline guywire to get 09erTango in position to be pulled back into the hangar with my makeshift tug.
Home. At long last this weary traveler had arrived. Amidst the oooh’s and ahh’s as they looked over the newest acquisition, I couldn’t help but to snatch up my wife and daughter in a warm embrace and thank the good Lord for the many blessings in front of me and the journey behind me. It will surely be a trip that I will remember for a lifetime. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll be the codgy old fart at the airport reminiscing and telling stories of the good old days to the young whippersnapper passing through. I can only hope to be so lucky.
Please excuse my mother! I don't think she's ever seen me fly...
