N9018J

Cessna Skyhawk SP   C-172S   Moundridge, Kansas to Pskov, Russia
This is the first of a number of 172's going to Pskov.  It popped up on short notice while my passport was in the hands of a visa service, having a Brazilian visa and extra pages inserted (I'd filled up almost all the original visa pages in less than two years after getting a new passport to replace the one I'd previously filled up), so I asked them to hold on to it till I got the forms to them for the Russian visa.  The Russians are particular.  The application form for a business visa requires information you'd put on a resume, and they require a letter of invitation from your business partner.  We got the invitation letter in a day or so, as a scanned email attachment, and it looked impressive, with all sorts of official-looking stamps.  It was in Russian, and I couldn't read much of it, but I could see the dates of the invitation were from the 1st to the 15th of September.  It was already the 26th of August, and it would be the second week in September before I'd get my passport back with the visa in it.  There was no way I could get to Russia before the 10th, and that left only five days' margin.  But nobody had thought to consult the ferry pilot. The airplane was ready, but it was in a hangar in Kansas, and there wasn't any point bringing it to Bangor with Hurricane Earl roaring up the coast, so I waited till Friday the 3rd to go after it.
Date	Destination	Distance (nm)	Flight time (hh+mm)
03 Sep	Warrensburg, Missouri	178	1+29
Beautiful weather, and a nice tailwind.
"	Dayton, Ohio	450	3+31
It was coming on evening by the time I'd filled up with avgas at Warrensburg, but I pushed on to Dayton so I could spend Saturday with my son's family there.

Date	Destination	Distance (nm)	Flight time (hh+mm)
05 Sep	Westfield, Massachusetts	539	3+58
I stopped at Westfield to fill up with avgas that's a dollar cheaper per gallon than at Bangor.
"	Bangor, Maine	271	1+51
Another pleasant flight.  Earl had dropped a soaking rain on Bangor, but without any damaging winds, and now he was off pestering Atlantic Canada, leaving clear skies over my route.  And now I was in position so that if the Russians returned my passport to the visa service on Monday, I could pick it up on Tuesday and head out with a good week to get to Pskov. But the Russians didn't return my passport until Wednesday, so I didn't receive it in Bangor till Thursday morning.  I was aware there was bad weather in Newfoundland (there usually is), but when I got the airplane ready to go and checked the latest reports, I saw it was truly miserable.  This meant, to have a hope of reaching Russia before my visa ran out, I'd have to leave Bangor Friday, refuel in Newfoundland, and continue without a-ny sleep.  The winds were now favoring Wick, which was good:  Wick's close to the great circle route from Bangor to Riga, my designated last departure point before arriving in Russian airspace; and I'd be able to change the oil and de-tank the airplane over the week-end, whereas at most places I'd have to wait till Monday.  You see, that's another way the Russians are particular:  they won't allow an airplane with a ferry tank in their airspace, so I had to return the plane to normal configuration before arriving. Update:  I've learned since that the reason we pull the tank and plumbing out is that the airplane will be sealed by customs immediately upon arrival, so the only way to return valuable fittings and equipment to the States is to get them out before entering Russia.
10 Sep	Saint John's, Newfoundland	690	5+34
I slept in a bit Friday morning, and timed my departure to arrive in Saint John's after the bad weather moved out, and in time to refuel, file, and depart about midnight Zulu.  I'd have to fly through the weather on the way to Scotland, but I wanted room to climb up and get settled down in cruise before I hit it.  I had to shoot an ILS approach in order to land at Saint John's, but by the time I was ready to leave, the sky was clear.
11 Sep	Wick, Scotland	1868	12+59
I had just set the airplane in cruise flight at FL090, the highest practical altitude for a 180-horse 172 carrying 115 gallons in the ferry tank, when the stars disappeared and was in the soup.  I was in the warm sector, and below the freezing level, so there wasn't any ice to worry about, and the turbulence was light.  I had calculated 12 hours 55 minutes for the flight at 120 knots true airspeed, and the winds were proving to be very close to the forecast:  an average 25-knot tailwind—not great, but not bad at all.  All I had to do was wait until I'd burned off some fuel—and flown out of the weather—so I could climb for better winds and efficiency.  The prognostic chart suggested I'd be free of the weather by 40 West Longitude, but by about 45W I was out of clouds and just in snow, and the airplane was feeling not quite so sluggish, so I thought I'd see if I could ease a bit higher.  But I was out of the warm sector now, too, with an OAT of 0°C at FL090 instead the +3 I'd enjoyed previously, and at FL095 I hit the bases and started picking up ice, so I gave it up and descended back to nine.  40W came and went, and still I was in snow, with no idea how high the bases were, and no inclination to struggle higher only to have to come back down again.  But around about 35W I flew out of the snow and into the first faint promise of dawn at the same time.  I'd burned off enough fuel by now that the airplane was giving me 125 knots true at full throttle.  I had no wish to force the airplane to an altitude at which it wouldn't be able to maintain a reasonable cruise airspeed, so I set the autopilot to maintain 104 knots indicated airspeed, which slowed me to 120 true, and the airplane began to climb:  it gained a few feet, hesitated, gained a few more, then sagged a bit, then gained another ten feet, and rested there awhile.  In two hours I was maintaining FL110, and there I was content to remain.  In the fullness of time I descended through broken cumulus clouds to make a visual approach at Wick, landed at 14:26 local time, and taxied directly to the hangar, where Andrew Bruce, the proprietor and dynamic spirit of Far North Aviation, met me with tools at the ready.  I'd flown 18 1/2 hours in the last 21 at this point, and I was feeling a bit gritty behind the eyelids; but I wanted to arrive in Russia on Monday, if possible, and to do that I needed to leave Wick Sunday morning.  So Andrew and I pulled off the cowling, and he started the oil change while I worked on getting the tank out.  After a couple of hours we had the ferry tank on the hangar floor and the oil out of the engine, but we still had to change the oil filter and remove some plumbing so we could put the fuel system back to normal, and re-install the seats.  I had the seat back and headrests attached to the rear bench seat, and I had worked that seat into position in the cabin, and then I just hit a wall.  I told Andrew I'd have to eat and sleep, and finish this in the morning.  If I could reach Aalborg on Sunday, and left there very early, I still might make Pskov by late Monday afternoon.
13 Sep	Aalborg, Denmark	435	3+13
I was still sluggish Sunday morning, and Andrew and I ran into some difficulties caused by our unfamiliarity with way the ferry system had been plumbed, and by the fact that we had to drain the right wing tank before we broke into the fuel system.  By the time we had the airplane ready to continue, it was too late to reach even Aalborg.  The only air service at Pskov is a daily flight from Moscow and return, in the afternoon; but that would depart before my arrival, and reach Moscow too late for me to catch a flight out of Russia the same day.  So that wouldn't work with me showing up on Tuesday.  The only train that would help me was the Baltiya, which runs back and forth between St. Petersburg and Riga, and passes through Pskov in each direction in the wee hours of the morning.  I had planned to catch that train Tuesday morning to St. Petersburg, and fly home from there Wednesday morning; but now I'd have to catch it in the other direction, 8 1/2 hours to Riga: a long ride on a train, but it'd get me out of Russia before dawn on the day my visa expired.  I emailed the aircraft broker in Moscow to ask the handling agents in Pskov to buy me a ticket, so I'd have something to show the immigration officials and relieve their minds.  Thank God for the internet, where I could find all this information and make these arrangements before I arrived.
"	Riga, Latvia	514	3+47
I like Aalborg for a fuel stop.  One of its several conveniences is that you can refuel your airplane yourself, using an ordinary credit card at the fuel pumps, instead of waiting for a fueler to work you into his schedule.  But this time three credit cards in a row panicked when I tried to get authorization.  It's not uncommon, especially when the fuel company is Shell.  "Shell" is all they see at the other end (they or their computer program), and they think, "Someone's stolen his card and is trying to spend five hundred dollars at a gas station!"  (I'd asked for more than I needed, to avoid the inconvenience of having to get an additional authorization in case it took a bit more than I expected to fill the tanks, but in any case it adds up in a hurry at $11.40/gallon.)  By the time I talked to one of the banks on the phone and explained the situation, I was running late, and I didn't arrive at Riga until 21:30 local, even with a wonderful shortcut from ATC.  I wa ready for the hotel.
14 Sep	Pskov, Russia	191	1+34

Comments

[Bob Echols]

Oh my gosh - welcome back Gerald to your bloggees. We are happy to see your return and excited about getting the heck scared out of ourselves by following your exploits in the sky. Hurray. Don't be stingy with words.

[John Moriarty]

Hi Jim,
we spoke at length on a flight DUB-ORL c30.10.08, would you pass me your email please I've lost your business card.