KCMI to K24 to KCMI - 3.2 hours

Mom's Day 2010. Mom was already at our house but dad had been delayed in Kentucky due to an unfortunate mishap with Grandpa. He'd fallen and hurt himself pretty badly. No broken bones, thankfully, but he was in a bit of pain and needed some assistance. Family, as family does, eventually stepped up and agreed to keep an eye on Grandpa so Dad could join us in Champaign. I flew down to get him.

The day was picture perfect - the complete opposite of the day before. Saturday had been a bear; gusting winds at the surface in the 30- to 40-knot range with ceilings about 3,500 broken to solid overcast over the entire route. Then Sunday dawned. It was like someone had flipped a switch. The winds were a pleasant 3 to 6 knots at the surface and sky cover was 5,000 to 7,000 scattered to thin broken.

The forecast was for 25- to 30-knots out of the NW at 7,000. They were even more sprightly at the higher altitudes, but 25-30 seemed mighty fine to me. The winds were right at my back too, so I had options. I could throttle back and save some gas or throttle up and save some time. Since it was going to be a quick turn on the ground at Jamestown (we needed to be back in time for dinner at 2) I planned on using lean-of-peak settings. My thought at the time was that I might have enough gas in the tank, even with the headwind I'd face on the return, to make it back without needing to refuel.

As beautiful as the day was, I only saw one of my fellow T-hangar denizens taxiing out to take advantage of the glorious conditions. Even the planes on the University ramp were still. It wasn't long before I had my clearance and was on my way.

As I was climbing out of Champaign I began to encounter a little light chop. The fields, still barren and brown, were generating quite a few thermals in the calm, cool air. I reached the base of the scattered layer at about 5,000 and entered the smooth air. Reaching 7,000, I pulled the power back to about 65% lean-of-peak. The winds were as advertised and I soon found myself reveling in 154-knots of groundspeed and only having to exert 139-knots true airspeed for the privilege. At that speed and power setting I was sipping fuel at about 9 gph. That's about 3.5 gph less than my best power fuel burn.

The further SE I flew the denser the cloud layer below me became. By Terre Haute I was over a thin-broken layer. By the time I was approaching the Ohio River the cloud layer was rising to greet me. Still, it never seemed to get much thicker than a couple thousand feet. If I did wind up in the clouds, I wouldn't have far to go, up or down, to get out of them.

As I passed out of Louisville Approach's jurisdiction and into the arms of Indy Center, I started thinking about getting down. Jamestown AWOS was indicating 4,100 broken over the field. There was plenty of room underneath the clouds for a visual approach so I thought I'd ask for an early descent to 3,000. My first request was politely declined, but the next Indy Center controller I talked to was much more accommodating.

I started my descent and caught a glimpse of Green River Lake through a break in the clouds. It's only about 15 minutes north of Jamestown with moderate winds. At the rate I was getting pushed along I'd be over Jamestown in about 10. I needed to get down sooner rather than later.

In an effort to preserve my engine life I've established the habit of very gradual power reductions in the descent. This is to avoid shock cooling the engine with abrupt power changes. But as I passed through the clouds and entered the more jubilant air below them it became clear I needed to be a tad more aggressive if I was going to get the speed down to a structurally friendly number.

Soon I was in the pattern for runway 35 at Jamestown. The rougher air made establishing a good approach profile a little more labor intensive, but eventually I was able to wrangle myself into a nice final approach with a few extra knots in the bank in case winds died down. Rolling out on final I looked like I was way high, but I remembered that the runway was on a grade. Whenever landing in the uphill direction the approach always looks steeper than it probably is. The plus side is, with a good headwind, the landing rolls are pretty short. Gravity does a good job helping to slow the plane's momentum with minimal braking required.

Oh, I almost forgot. About a third of the way to K24 I abandoned my original power plan. The temptation to go fast with the aid of a generous tailwind had proven too great. I had pushed the throttle up to Best Power somewhere just SE of Terre Haute and thus needed fuel. So I taxiied up to the self serve pump so I could take on fuel.

It took about 30 minutes to take on fuel, Dad and his luggage. As we prepared to board, another SR20 wheeled over the field in a crosswind entry to the left downwind for runway 17. The winds actually favored runway 35. He was going to be landing downhill with a tailwind. Morbid curiosity compelled me to stand and watch. He flew a Navy approach, or what looked like one. His base leg was non-existent. He touched down about 1/4 the way down the runway and rolled all the way to the other end.

I watched him walk toward the parking lot after he'd shut down and parked his plane. He seemed to be contemplating his navel. I recognized the posture. I too probably looked that way after encountering a challenging landing of my own creation. It was kind of a "I know what I was doing, but what was I thinking?" sort of thing.

I opted to takeoff the way I'd arrived, on runway 35. Now, normally I prefer 17 if the winds are no factor. It's downhill and the ground slopes away from you as you climb. Runway 35 is exactly the opposite. But I had enough of a headwind that I thought the takeoff roll would be sufficiently short enough to allow ample time for comfortable terrain clearance. I was kind of right.

I was airborne about halfway down the runway and climbing, but not as briskly as I would have liked. The features of the houses below me presented themselves in unnerving detail. But soon we were flaps up and climbing at a reassuring 800 fpm. If anything, it was a vivid demonstration of the safety that extra power affords you. Had we been in a 310 hp SR22, we would've been nearing pattern altitude before I crossed the departure end of the runway. Well, maybe. In any case I probably wouldn't have puckered as much.

By now it was nearing noon and the sun had been baking the earth for a while. The air was alive with thermal activity. I had originally filed for 4,000 on the return trip as the winds were forecast to be light and variable. Just 2,000 feet above at 6,000 they were forecast to be as brisk as what I'd encountered on the way down, only right on my nose. We started out at 4,000, but I was soon asking for 6,000 as it was just too bumpy for a comfortable 1.6 hour ride.

6,000 put us just above the clouds. And by just above I mean brushing their tops. By the time we were headed back across the Ohio River into Indiana I was weaving in and around the tops. That's flying my friends. Nothing like zipping past or through a cloud to remind you that you're doing something pretty special in the grand scheme of human events.

Fortunately, the winds at 6,000 proved to be far friendlier than forecast. The net result was still a headwind, but not nearly of the proportions that I'd expected. We were making really good time. And, wonder of wonders, Dad stayed awake and talked with me the entire trip. Usually he was sawing logs before we'd even reached cruise altitude. Between talking with him and enjoying the grandeur of the cloud valleys we were flying though, the trip went by quickly.

Starting our descent into Champaign, the clouds had all but disappeared. There were holdouts here and there, but for all intents and purposes conditions were severe clear. All that remained was the turbulence which had increased in severity as the afternoon wore on. At 3,000 about 30 nm SE of Champaign I was having to do quite a bit of throttle jockeying to maintain a safe structural cruising speed and altitude. Several times I had the nose in a 5 degree, nose-down attitude and was still getting pushed up at about 500 fpm. Other times I was pushing the throttle all the way forward to maintain altitude in a downdraft. It wasn't a whole lot of fun but it still beat the heck out of my best day at work.

We were cleared for a landing on 32R and I greased it on. It would've been a shame to have worked so hard on approach only to bounce it. As an added bonus, we'd managed to return a good 30 minutes before dinner time. Laurie was happy, Dad was happy and Mom was happy. All in all, not a bad run.