Flying in Alaska - Part XII

The Eureka Burger

Well, the last time I wrote was back in July so I have a lot of catching up to do. As it turns out, I haven't done a lot of flying since then for various reasons, mostly weather related.

Shortly after the last issue of Flying in Alaska the whole family left for a vacation. That happened the last couple of days of July until the middle of August, about 2-1/2 weeks. My plane needed an annual inspection before the end of August, so I arranged to have it done while I was on vacation. Good planning right? So much for plans. The mechanic started the inspection the week we were to return. He finished up the last week of August. The plane was ready for another year of adventures, except now I can't afford gas for the next year.

Talk about a money pit! Well, being a good problem solver, I got around that problem. I'm using the money that I would have spent for" your" Christmas gifts this year to buy gas now. It should give you a warm fuzzy feeling to know I'm really enjoying it! And for Christmas, I'll send you each an e-mail with a new Flying in Alaska episode! So here's the latest.

The first week of September was fantastic as far as the weather goes, so I started flying to work. It was a great way to test the plane after the annual, and it gave me some night flying experience. We start running out of daylight at the end of August, and this year was no exception.

I prepared the plane one morning and rolled out into the darkness. I punched the throttle forward and watched the runway centerline markings float beneath the headlight on the wing. I pulled back and everything turned black outside the windshield, that is, except for the sky. The night was clear and the northern lights danced all around the plane. I reached up and turned off all the lights and everything was black except the stars and the dancing green lights.

Eventually, the northern lights gave way to the lights of Anchorage. There was the city, a sea of lights with a black hole in the middle where the airport was. The two paved runways at Merrill field are marked with lights, but not the gravel strip. No super cub pilot in his right mind would ever land on pavement if there is a gravel strip to be had. Those big smooth tires you see on super cubs that look like something out of a cartoon are expensive, why burn them up on asphalt?

I circled the airport in the dark above the white sea of lights and entered the pattern. I lined up on that part of the black hole that should have been a gravel runway and waited for the runway to appear. At a half mile out I started to get a little concerned because the runway was still hiding. Not really a problem, a half mile in a super cub is still a full minute of flight time. Plenty of time to spot something…I hope.

It wasn't long and I began to make out the gravel surface of the runway, or so I thought. Another few seconds and I began to see the tail fins of airplanes appearing out of the darkness as my meager headlight strained to light the way. I began to realize I was on final for the parking apron, the runway was 100 feet to the right. A little slip to the right and the blue reflectors along the sides of the runway replaced the tail fins of parked planes. Everything was coming together now. I made a beautiful landing out there in the dark as all landings with no witnesses are absolutely gorgeous. Ask any pilot you know, they'll confirm that for me.

Now one of the reasons for buying the super cub was to go moose hunting with it. My hunting buddy and I had the hunting trip all planned out for the third week of September. I was going to fly to Glennallen, he was going to drive up towing our atv's. We each own an amphibious atv that is like a plastic bath tub on six wheels that constantly needs repairing; or at least mine does, but that's another story. We were going to fly over our favorite moose pastures, spot the moose and then return to the airport. From there, we would drive to the trailhead, mount up and drive our trusty steeds over hill and vale to our monster moose and harvest him. Easy enough plan.

Along about the end of the second week of September the wind began to blow and it blew September right into October. Our hunting trip was definitely land-based this year, the plane stayed at home. Last week we had a typhoon die on our doorstep, and that took the whole week, which brings us to the Eureka Burger escapade.

Yesterday started out warm and sunny with no wind. Grady and I piled our survival gear in the airplane and headed east through the mountains toward Eureka for a burger. It's and old roadhouse on the east side of the Talkeetna mountains easy enough to find. Follow the Matanuska River to the glacier at the end, hang a left through Tahneta Pass and look for a small diner and gas station just past the last mountain. There are a couple of cleared mud holes that serve as a landing strip, choose the one that looks best.

We flew over the airport at a couple of hundred feet the first time to inspect the airport layout and to let the guy on the four-wheeler know we were there. Next pass at 20 feet was to inspect the surface of the mud in preparation for landing, and then we made our landing. The undersides of the wings and the tail feathers are all muddy now, but that's normal for super cubs.

Grady packed in the Eureka Burger, the headline burger on the menu, I had the battered halibut and fries, then back to the plane. The plane labored into the air with the extra load, but we were off. The return flight was pretty, but more-or-less uneventful. With little to do but dodge mountains and take photos, your mind begins to wander.

For example, in cruise, the engine runs at 2,400 rpm. That equates to 144,000 revolutions per hour and 432,000 revolutions on our three-hour round trip. That was and easy calculation that only took about a mile to figure out.

Traveling at an average of about 85 miles per hour, we traveled about 255 miles in those three hours. If you have time on your hands, you can multiply 255 miles by 5,280 feet per mile in your head. I always do the math from left to right in my head despite how our current educational system teaches us. For example, 200 times 5,280 is easy, 2 time 528 is 1,056 and tack on the three zeros for 1,056,000. Next, multiply 5,280 by 50: 5,000 times 5 is 25,000, 200 times 5 is 1,000 and 80 time 5 is 400. Add these up for 26,400 and tack on the extra zero for 264,000, add that to the 1,056,000 gives 1,320,000 feet. Add the last 5 times the 5,280 gives the 26,400 added to the previous sum gives 1,346,400 feet in 255 miles.

If you still aren't back to your home airport, you can divide the 1,346,400 feet by 432,000 revolutions. The math may seem insurmountable while you're flying an airplane, but it is really quite easy. First, guess. Divide each number by 1,000 to get rid of the zeros at the end, then it easy to see that 432 is about 1/3 of 1,346. Thee times 432 is 1,296, subtract that from 1,346, the remainder is 50, which is slightly less than 1/8, or about 0.12. So, the plane moves forward 3.12 feet per one revolution of the propeller; or 37.4 inches. Since I have two blades on the propeller, a single blade passes through the air about every 18-3/4 inches.

Now wasn't that worth a flight to Eureka and back? If you have any problems you want to work out, go for a ride in a Super Cub!