Cross Canada flight (part two)

London, Ontario to Regina, Saskatchewan

	Good weather in London Ontario allowed me to fly the Nexus Mustang and enjoy its zippy handling. Photo courtesy Ken Armstrong
	The Nexus Mustang designed and built by Richard Eaves. Photo courtesy Eric Dumigan
	WOXOF weather on landing at Winnipeg - which was forecast to be VFR. Photo courtesy Ken Armstrong

Thrills, Chills and Bills

Eventually, we contacted customs and departed London for the common crossing at Port Huron (PHN) about a half hour away. It had been our intention to make a longer flight to Saginaw as it positioned us better for crossing Lake Michigan, but gave up that plan when the phone wasn’t answered after more than a half hour of calling. 

Like Saginaw, Port Huron provides crossing runways and thus lots of landing options at a location that is not too busy. Large airports often have delays due to airline and commuter traffic accommodation and delays at FBOs when they refuel the heavier equipment that accumulates on sometimes crowded ramps. 

We had chosen our day of departure based on an approaching low pressure system near Fergus Falls, Minnesota (FFM), our evening destination. Actually, we had planned to overnight in the MSP area but made good time and proceeded to the FFM as the approaching cold front with its strong headwinds was just west of that location.  

Using this flight planning technique, we benefited from slight tailwinds and crosswinds rather than the typical headwinds one anticipates on westbound flights. Moreover, the cold front blew itself out overnight and the next morning we able to prepare to launch into clear skies after an hour in the hangar to remove the frost.  

Starting in the cold was no longer an issue as the battery had been replaced by Diamond Aircraft. We no sooner got the bird out of the hangar when a dense, unforecast ice fog quickly formed thereby closing the airport and contaminating the wings again. When this eventually burned off and the wings cleared, we launched with a 15 knot tailwind that steadily increased during our direct flight to Winnipeg. 

Our plan was to land two hours before the approach of another low pressure system that promised moderate snow.  The U.S. briefing agreed with the Canadian terminal for the capital and we anticipated weather no less than 2,000 feet and six miles visibility.

After crossing the border we encountered quickly decreasing ceilings and visibilities in moderate snow that was melting on the airframe indicating prevailing temperatures above freezing. Based on en route reports and the forecast, I assumed this was an isolated shower and descended to maintain VFR and above freezing temperatures in the indefinite ceilings. 

The adiabatic cooling from the snow and our breathing in the near freezing temperatures was creating a heavy misting on the canopy so I maximized the heat control output to maintain visibility in the degraded en route conditions.  

This readily cleared the canopy, but left Linda and I medium rare by the end of the flight as we were dressed for cold conditions. 

The ceiling lifted for a short time and then the next series of showers descended on us and we accordingly went down to cruise above the Pembina highway northbound for “WinterPeg.” 

Having served as a military flight instructor in the area after graduating in my last teenage year, I was well aware of towers higher than 1,000 feet in the area and flew over the highway knowing the support wires never cross a highway.  

It is noteworthy this author subsequently took a wire avoidance course at the Helicopter Convention in Los Angeles in February 2005 and learned there are a number of instances in the USA where support wires do in fact cross highways!  Now, I wonder if this occurs anywhere in Canada?

I felt it wasn’t prudent to return to the USA airports as the weather was approaching from the west and would have descended behind us as well.  Moreover, the strong crosswind precluded landing on any airports in our immediate area – the 55 foot wingspan being a slight impediment in a 30 knot crosswind. 

Our only option was to continue. Linda continued her lookout for other aircraft (highly unlikely in this weather) and obscured wires while I nervously glanced at the slight build up of melting snow on the wings’ leading edge and the loss of ten knots of airspeed. 

The radio frequency was busy as I had contacted Winnipeg Tower about 30 miles out – unable to read the ATIS at this altitude. They quickly confirmed the front had arrived early there as well and granted my request for special VFR to enter the control zone.  Winnipeg continued to provide terrain clearance warnings and to a degree, vectors to avoid the taller buildings in Winnipeg. 

The low visibility combined with the concentration required to maintain airspeed and clearance from objects was so consuming that I was exceedingly grateful the GPS was providing all of the important navigational data to confirm the tower’s suggestions.  Visibility was not adequate for effective map reading.

Readers may recall my commendation to the Winnipeg tower controller in a fall issue of COPA Flight.  They aided Linda and I to a safe landing in mid October 2004 and I sent a letter to Kathy Fox, VP Operations at NavCan in the Pilots to Pilots column.   

The tower was doing an excellent job of shuffling the IFR traffic to provide us priority (without stating so) and we navigated to a close in downwind and executed a maneuver close to a split S directly over runway 18 for our into wind landing on the last third of the runway.  (I had heard an airliner inbound at the outer marker and didn’t want to force him into an overshoot for a light plane in challenging conditions). 

We landed into the strong headwind and cleared the runway seconds later and then thankfully arrived at the ESSO refueller’s ramp in blizzard like conditions. I don’t think I have ever been so happy to safely land and that includes well over 100,000 landings!

The canopy had fogged up on the taxiway due to reduced heat flow and a ramp employee passed me his cell phone through the window vent to close our flight plan and make contact with Canadian Customs.  For some reason Customs chose to pass up on an inspection visit to the ramp that day….

We gathered ourselves, documentation and camera and popped the canopy open and rushed for the building’s protection – taking a photo as we went.  It’s significant that the military hangars a half mile distant are not visible in the photo. 

We headed for the lounge and sat through a panoply of emotions. I was angry and frustrated with our weather services, thankful to Winnipeg tower, shocked and embarrassed that I could get trapped by a weather system without really suitable alternatives – other than landing in a soft farmer’s field (the area had been inundated with heavy rains earlier). 

Linda exhibited other emotions. She observes she experienced an adrenalin high and heightened state of awareness during the flight as she helped us navigate by keeping her eyes roving outside. 

Moreover she “felt no fear” because she was confident in the aircraft and pilot and after the landing she experienced a sense of elation and accomplishment for having helped.  She is a very positive lady.

The two ramp attendants struggled in the wind with us to secure the aircraft and we settled in for a number of days of winter weather using the excellent facilities and congenial staff at ESSO. We essentially camped in the well appointed pilots lounge all day, every day only returning to a hotel room when it was obvious the weather wouldn’t let us proceed. 

The forecasts continually prognosticated breaks in the weather – but they didn’t materialize for days.

From my perspective, I realized Canada’s met services were caught with their pants down for a prolonged period of time and in my opinion risked the lives of Linda and I – although not intentionally. 

Had it not been for the efforts of the YWG tower controller I would have likely had to land on the Pembina highway and take our chances with the automotive traffic.

As a high time (that also means old) helicopter pilot flying on the coast and in the mountains, I have commonly operated in low ceilings and visibilities as minimum en route weather conditions for rotary wing aircraft were two hundred feet and a half mile visibility.   

It helped that the Diamond motorglider was capable of quite slow speed flight and the high lift wing added additional capability with its ability to carry contamination in snow storm.  We wouldn’t have faired nearly as well in a high performance aircraft – although we might have been able to land short of Winnipeg on a crosswind runway with 30 knots on the wingtips.

Three days after a brush with our imminent demise, we were delighted to be able to crawl away from Winnipeg in the last of the winter low ceilings and after a refueling stop in Brandon we pushed off for Regina’s clear skies and the discovery of the flying club facilities. 

Another winter storm was forecast that night (remember, this is early October) and the flying club shuffled the hangar aircraft to accommodate our high aspect ratio wings.  They were a very friendly group and Tom, the manager, took us into town to a recommended hotel near a mall and food services. 

I had managed to never overnight in Regina in 40 years of flying – little did I know we were about to spend a week there! By the time the initial winter odyssey ended in the prairies I would spend more time grounded for weather than the entire previous 40 years of flying!

Yes, I know that’s two exclamation marks in a row and I seldom use them, but these circumstances proved overwhelming to us with en route ceilings never exceeding five hundred feet. 

On a positive note, we spent considerable social time with the amazing Rem Walker and his delightful wife, Allison. Rem has worked tirelessly for decades with Canadian and EAA organizations providing information and aid to amateur builders. In my opinion he has received no where near the recognition he deserves for his contributions to Canadian aviation. 

The Walkers were excellent hosts and Rem toured us around town and even ventured out into the winter wilderness by driving us to a 1929 Gypsy Moth biplane project that he and Bob Meyer have been working on for years. (A future article will detail the surprises and challenges that faced them on this RCAF aircraft reconstruction. This story will appear when they complete their first flight in the near future).

And on that note, the final third of this tome will appear in next month’s issue of COPA Flight.  This last segment will face strong headwinds, delightful unforecast weather, helpful aviators, challenging mountain flying and a helpful lesson on DRCO for Kapitan Ken. 

In the meantime, fly safely and proficiently to enhance your pleasure.

Ken is a former COPA director who lives in Victoria, BC. He provides services internationally in advanced training, expert witness, flight test and aircraft sales. He has logged more than 15,000 hours on 375 types of fixed wing and rotary aircraft. Soaring his Diamond Xtreme is what he does for pleasure.