Airventure 2025 | Day 1

July 16 | It’s Friday, and I’m just now starting my Oshkosh/Brodhead blog. My, how time flies.

I started a day later than I usually do because I lost a couple days on emergency service calls. I’m a retired electrician, having turned over the business to my daughter Lolly, but it seems that sometimes only I know where the bodies are buried.

I spent Saturday with the great-grandkids, Sunday flying Young Eagles at Sonoma Skypark, so I didn’t start packing in earnest until Monday. I had good luck bringing donated parts out to Brodhead and Oshkosh to sell for the Chapter last year, so this year I went through the hangar and dug up three file boxes full of parts and a pair of wheel pants. We’ll see how I do this year.

I left Skypark early enough Wednesday morning that I made my first fuel stop at Wendover Airport, right on the line between Nevada and Utah. I was flying on an IFR (instrument flight rules) flight plan at 13,000 feet, so I had to spiral down after the last ridge line to get to patter altitude. I was monitoring the field frequency and heard a Pilatus announce landing runway 22. Taking the easy route, I announced entering for landing downwind for the same runway.

Turning final, I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t getting closer to the runway. I went around and made what wasn’t one of my smoothest landings. As I taxied past the wind sock, I saw that I had a lovely quartering tailwind on that runway, reinforcing the lesson that you ALWAYS check the windsock yourself, and especially, never trust a Pilatus pilot.

Even though I departed just before noon, it was the usual hot takeoff and climb, so I was watching my oil and cylinder temps, with the cowl flaps open and running a rich mixture, until I finally climbed back up to 13,000 feet to get over the Salt Lake Class B airspace and the line of mountains backing Salt Lake. Smooth sailing after that. Ha!

I fly with an iPad running Foreflight, which is and incredible resource for real-time flight information, as well as containing all my charts and airport information. It also shows ADS-B (Automatic Dependent Surveillance-Broadcast) weather, as well as other aircraft and the altitudes they are flying. Precipitation shows as various shades of green, convective activity show yellow, orange and then bright, angry red. The line showing my flight path went right through some very brilliant red, with little lightning bolts in the middle.

I asked ATC (Air Traffic Control) for permission to divert right so as to miss those little lightning bolts. I also noted that some of those big airplanes flying above 20,000 feet were also asking to divert.

It took what seemed like forever to skirt the thunderstorms, bouncing and trying to avoid getting wet. It looked like other cells were racing me to my overnight destination at Rawlins, Wyoming, but I beat them to the airport, circled looking for the windsock, and landed on runway 11, taxied in and shut down, glad to be on the ground. The people of Wyoming are lovely, but I always dread flying over it in the afternoon.

I got the crew car, found a room, went to Cactus Pete’s, recommended by Ray, The Rawlins airport attendant, for dinner, then went back to my room for a hot shower and soft bed, and fell asleep thinking about the next day.