Two Guys go Transcontinental
(... in a single engine, two seat airplane)

        Article by Ken Graham

Ray Sluk is the kind of guy that if you don’t talk with him for three years or more, you’re still reconnected in the first thirty seconds. He’d been my academic advisee while I was a young business school faculty member at Penn State in the late 70’s. I’d learned to fly at age 20. When I knew Ray at Penn State, he was working on his now 200 skydiving jumps. On his first airplane ride, he left the plane in midair. It was his 26th airplane ride that gave him his first experience of an airplane LANDING!

Ray Sluk retired at age 48 from FEDEX as VP for Latin America earlier in this decade. By December 2004, he had his ASEL private license. After hearing about my flying the Canadian North as a renter pilot in 2004, we planned the 2005 flight through Alberta, British Columbia, the Yukon, Alaska, and the Canadian North West Territory. By May 2006, he’d added instrument, commercial, and CFI. After our May ’06 adventure, he added commercial ASES, bought a good chunk of the flight school that launched him into flying, then proceed to increase its revenue 700% in 15 months. The guy can’t do things in a modest way.

So the May 2006 adventure was instigated by Ray. Why fly transcontinental in a Diamond 20? Because few people would do it, and it needed to be done, we thought. Ray had placed two Diamond 20’s into Falcon Aviation in his now hometown of Peachtree City, Georgia. We’d used N346MA for earlier adventures. It was time to “go the distance”.

Atlanta to Kitty Hawk, NC, then Fly West!

We’d started from KFFC (does that identifier seem like a fast food restaurant?), his home base and flew east to begin the westbound transcontinental journey from First Flight Airport, Kitty Hawk, NC. And since First Flight has no fuel, we needed to stop east of Charlotte to continue east, visit the Wright Brothers monument, and start west. First day’s itinerary was essentially Atlanta to Kitty Hawk to Nashville, where Ray’s second daughter, Jenna, a new manager for FedEX, would put us up for the night.

It was a delightful run on Ray’s leg from FFC to First Flight. We took each other’s pictures at the Wright Brothers monument. No time for sentiment, I took us off for Nashville.

Cruising along at 10,500, we could see weather over the Great Smoky Mountains. I’d flown in IMC with Ray before, even at night, but didn’t appreciate what we were hearing on the radio. Two pilots in two separate aircraft, with great urgency in their voices, reported ice buildup on the wings of their airplanes. Each pilot was begging controllers for lower altitudes. Minimums in the area approach 7,000, so controllers were delaying some let-downs.

We seemed ok for a time. Eventually, the wingtips started to disappear in the dense clouds. We had heat switched on for the pitot. Then I noticed a 600 to 800 foot swing in reported altitude. The ice on the leading edge, just above where the pitot begins, was picking up some pitot heat, causing water to run down the pitot tube.

A Diamond pitot tube doesn’t protrude forward as it does on a Cessna, for example. On a Diamond, the air inlet is a hole drilled into the front edge of a pitot sticking straight down. Evidentially the water would momentarily cover the hole in the pitot, causing the long altimeter needle to swing.

We proposed a southbound swing to get lower minimums, got clearance, and descended into the soup on a deviated course for Nashville. Enough of my first icing experience. Ice makes the plane sluggish as you’d expect.

Jenna met us at the small airport closest to Opryland. The guy fueling planes that evening had a very understated sense of humor. I asked him what the fuel price was as I took the static ground line from his truck. “100LL is $4.10 a gallon if I do it, and $5.10 a gallon if you help!!”

Our launch at dawn only required using a towel to take the moisture off the wings. Up and headed for Memphis.

Memphis is the primary hub for FedEX, and is also headquarters. Ray knows people there. One of them was helping Ray get another plane’s battery recharged after hours several months earlier. The mechanic actually doing the work stayed through his own dinner time to get the job done, and charged very modestly for his employer. Ray asked his FedEX friend to tip the mechanic generously.

Ray knew his friend can be parsimonious (read cheap). We stopped at the Memphis satellite airport where this earlier tipping opportunity had happened. Ray found the mechanic, reminded him of his good deeds, and gave the mechanic the added money Ray felt his friend should have given. We left there with one surprised, grateful A&P waving goodbye.

Our route of flight was now to be over northern Louisiana and northern Texas. We decided to stop in Graham, Texas, for pictures, then in Olney, Texas, for gas. Olney is the home of the Air Tractor crop spray airplane factory. It is also known for having perhaps the lowest fuel price for 200 miles. We pressed on.

Our goal for the night was reached before sunset. We’d called ahead to reserve the courtesy car at Slayton, Texas, 30 miles southeast of Lubbock. Land, buy gas, (we always do this on arrival so that parking fees disappear—it works), and as employees were closing the doors we asked for the van. “It is the ancient GMC van next to the building. Keys are in it. You’ll find one restaurant in town—Mexican—with great food. Please do not lock the van, and do leave the keys in it all night. We’re working hard to get it stolen, but haven’t been successful!!!” The van had great character (like its owner), and more than ¼ of a million miles on it.

Our launch from Slayton the next morning was into cool, clear air. Direction was Albuquerque. We chose Sandia AirPark as the first fuel stop. With only 45’ wide paved runway, this is a public use residential airpark with great gas prices and superb service. It also has an internet video camera that broadcasts live to the internet.

As we fueled 346MA, Ray’s cell phone began to ring. Someone in his flight school in Georgia wondered where we were. We’d been filing IFR flight plans. They’d tracked us to Sandia (watermelon in Spanish) on www.flightaware.com Then they discovered the live webcam, and spotted the plane. Reminded us of the old saying “You can run but you can’t hide.”

First real mountain flying begins here. Departure westbound with terrain minimums approaching 6000 feet in places. I’d remembered having New Mexico flight planning on my Private written exam way back when. I’d also taken the Texas Civil Air Patrol Mountain Flying Clinic nearby in Alpine, Texas, six years earlier. One basic rule is to never cross a saddle without a 2000 foot minimum clearance. Air drainage you can’t see and high sink rates can overpower the climb ability of the aircraft. Always have an altitude cushion.

I’ve come to enjoy the Diamond 20 a great deal. It burns 5.5 gph and produces 115 hp. My Cessna 150 burns 5gph, as does my 912ULS powered Savannah. The Savannah gets only 85 mph because of STOL slats on the leading edge. The 150 does 95 before hoped-for tailwind.

But the Diamond 20 easily gets 140 mph, sometimes more in still air. My Cessna is giving me 16 miles per gallon. Ray’s Diamond often gives 21 miles per gallon. Guess streamlining does pay off.

Our next gas stop was also for lunch. We chose Sedona, Arizona, and the airport sits atop a bluff. On final you’re 600 feet off the ground until nearly the threshold. Wind can be hard to predict. Plus the place has an atmosphere of money, meaning lots of people fly their own planes there. Great place to visit, and to eat outside.

Our stop for the night was in Bullhead City, AZ. We stopped early in part because of the 100 degree temperature on the ground. And this was before May 20! The blast furnace was really on.

The following day was to take us to Oceanside, California. We’d prepared for the complex airspace of the LA basin by buying both VFR charts and the Terminal Area Chart.

About 25 miles from Oceanside it became clear that ground fog was not lifting, and that no operations were occurring there. We declared victory, and diverted northbound. We stopped just over the Angeles mountains from the LA basin (in part to avoid smog) to gas, eat, and go. Time to plan and execute the next phase.

When Ray and I planned this trip, we decided that the return would include some stops each of us wanted to see. I liked Death Valley, Bryce Canyon National Park, and Jackson Hole, WY. Ray wanted to stay in the area of Mount Rushmore. We filed for northeast departure, terminating at a Las Vegas satellite airport.

Approaching the aptly named Furnace Creek Airport in Death Valley, we wanted to land and see the altimeter go negative by about 250 feet. But on final we noticed the outside air temp was 105, so we elected touch and go operations so that each of us could experience the air made dense by altitude, them made lighter by heat! With plenty of gas, we headed for the planned stop near Vegas.

As we approached Las Vegas Class B, Ray cancelled our Flight Following with Flight “Service”, saying we’d move on to Mesquite, NV, as a fuel stop, then into Utah. Over Henderson, NV, (south of McCarren Airport but under its “layer cake”, we were “squawking unique” and talking to controllers. A huge updraft took me by surprise, and we busted the Class B ceiling by about 200 feet. We descended immediately. Nothing was said on the radio by controllers.

While getting gas at Mesquite, I went to use the facility. As I passed the FBO desk, the phone rang, and was promptly answered by and old fashioned answering machine. I heard the FAA ask the FBO to call a certain number.

When I told Ray, he thought it would be about airspace. But the FAA had us overdue at our stop originally filed on our VFR flight plan. FSS hadn’t communicated to the controllers. The search had begun by phone. We immediately reported in by phone to the controllers to avoid the launch of a full search and rescue operation. It is ironic that this incident occurred within miles of the actual search area for adventurer Steve Fossett, who was lost on a clear Saturday morning a year and 3+ months later. (Note: As of 2 October 2008, Steve Fossett’s pilot’s license and aircraft wreckage were found in a very vertical area near Mammoth Lakes, California. No remains have been found. Authorities say the crash site suggests a crash that could not have been survived.)

Daylight permitted us to fly to Cedar City, UT, for the night. We rented a car and were able to visit Bryce Canyon National Park, with its “hoodoos”, the colorful rock formations formed by erosion. Spectacular. We also visited their airport, but at nearly 7000 feet field elevation, it requires careful flight operations. I was to land there in April of 2008 on another adventure.

The following morning our first leg was to Spanish Forks, UT. Arriving from the south, we noticed that mountains limit the arrival approaches. We also heard 11 different aircraft calling traffic on CTAF!! Spanish Forks is a major flight school destination for rotary pilots. And current oil prices guarantee the demand for rotary pilots to fly to offshore platforms. Landing and take off were very busy, but courteous.

We got flight following for Twin Falls, ID, and changed our request in route for Jackson Hole. Cumulus with sunshine let us see Grand Teton Peaks above the general terrain. Cumulus in the Snake River Gorge meant we had to fly very careful VFR to arrive at Jackson Hole via the “back door”.

Jackson Hole is a hoot. Lots of private jets and other fancy aircraft use the airport. Setting is amazingly beautiful. FBO guys know Harrison Ford, the local rancher, movie actor, and multiple aircraft owner. Ray and I talked with FBO employees about how Harrison Ford bent his own helicopter. We had lunch, paid dearly for 100LL, and headed for Mount Rushmore via the hot springs at Thermopolis, Wyoming, and Devils Tower in extreme northeast Wyoming. I’d landed nearby on an earlier trip out west solo.

Devils Tower appears on the current version of Wyoming license plates. It is several hundred feet high, and at least 300 feet across its nearly flat top. Though I’m sure the rock climbers love its challenges, perhaps 40 years ago there was another drama. A parachutist landed atop the tower, was unable to climb down, and had to be rescued by helicopter, and had to pay for the rescue. Devil’s Tower is no longer a skydiver’s target.

We landed at the Custer, SD, airport. No courtesy car, but we arranged pickup by a couple who ran the motel we chose. Their kindness was great. They talked a car dealer into renting a car to us. The following morning, a Saturday, we drove to Mount Rushmore so that Ray could enjoy his first visit there. He needed to understand the setting, the size, the motivation for its creation.

We returned to Custer, where Ray gave a demo ride in the Diamond to one of the motel managers. I then had the job of finding Mount Rushmore from the air, then using slow flight techniques from right to left across the faces while Ray captured digital pictures. What a great morning, and what a great set of pictures from a perspective tourists don’t get to see.

Touch and go a Wall, SD, airport to honor an amazing business story. In 1934 a young just-graduated pharmacist named Bull Husted married his sweetheart Emily, and bought a run down pharmacy on a note. The two were so poor that they slept on the floor in the back room of the pharmacy. They were behind on note payments. The 150 people of Wall had some pharmacy needs, but no money. It was the depression. Wall had only one asset. It sat beside a U.S. highway that led across the country. Some people actually drove to Yellowstone National Park. They could see no reason to stop in Wall.

One Sunday in 1936, Emily put up two signs next to the highway, one on each side of town. They said simply “Free Ice Water—Wall Drug”. Cars began to come to the pharmacy that day. Ten years later, Emily would SELL bumper stickers to the same motorists that advertised Wall Drug!! I’ve personally seen these bumper stickers in Oregon and in New England. Wall Drug became a destination. Today it is a multi-multi million dollar business run by their son Ted. It carries a product mix that can be described as unique. Ever seen a stuffed jack rabbit with antelope horns? They’re for sale right there! It still fills prescriptions, and has a soda fountain.

Wall Drug was founded on desperation and initiative. Sell the concept of a destination. Give something away that is valued but inexpensive. And have your customers provide no cost advertising for you. What are the similar inspirations for our businesses?

Our gas stop was Wiley, SD. Wind was so strong that I opted for the turf strip into the wind. Got a little mud on the tires from the previous night’s rain. Taxied up to the pump. Pump worked, but no card reader. A sign said, “Pump your fuel, leave your credit card number on a slip of paper and put it on my desk”. Leave your N number, and I’ll look you up and send you a receipt.” Talk about the honor system!

South Dakota leads to Iowa when you’re headed to the Illinois. At our next fuel stop, Ray, with his new CFI credential, had me doing spot landings. His plane, so of course he can do them. But Diamonds float and float and float on landing. At least I got better.

We needed an overnight at the end of this day. I keep a car in a hangar 200 miles west of my suburban Chicago home. Why? Because I have some land and a retreat in the woods on a private airstrip out there. My Cessna 150 was closer to my home, so the western IL hangar only had the car. We hangared Ray’s plane, and stayed overnight in town, sharing my wifi enabled computer (on which I’m writing this) so that we can both run our consulting businesses as we do each night while traveling cross-country in the lower 48. (It was a little hard to find wifi above the Arctic Circle the prior year!)

The following day Ray dropped me off at my car, which was waiting at the Bloomington, IL, airport. I’d flown commercially to Atlanta to start this adventure. Ray detoured to Pittsburgh for a family visit, then returned to Peachtree City’s Falcon Field.

Our trip took exactly a week. We’d effectively flown transcontinental both ways. We’d been in 15 states. We’d been iced, spotted on the internet, roasted over 100 degrees in May, fogged out of our destination, roasted again in Death Valley, sought by the FAA, visited national parks and monuments, seen a glimpse of the high life of Jackson Hole, trusted for our payment for fuel, and generally been treated in the very trusting way that aviation tends to provide. Great learning, great log book entries. Heavy cost for fuel. Memories—priceless.


Written in Nelspruit and Pretoria, South Africa, September 16-17, 2007.