Flying a Small Plane across the U.S.

This past year I joined a new flying club out of Vancouver, WA, just on the north side of the Columbia River from Portland. The club had 15 members when I joined and a single airplane. With the club looking to grow to 20 members, we set out to purchase a second airplane. The goal was a capable cross-country machine, and the club decided that an early-model Cirrus SR22 would fit our needs and budget.

The Airplane

The plane we ended up purchasing is a 2006 Cirrus SR22 G2 model, powered by a 310hp Continental IO-550 engine. Cirruses are fast, slippery airplanes. Unlike new Cessnas or Beechcrafts, they use modern composite construction and have featured glass cockpits since their inception.

Our new plane has its original Avidyne Entegra flight deck, along with the Avidyne IFD-550/440 stack which replaced the old Garmin 430s. The plane also has a remote-mounted Lynx transponder added for ADS-B compliance (more on that later).

The plane also has a TKS anti-ice system, which consists of precisely-drilled leading edge panels which secrete deicing fluid over the wings to prevent ice buildup. There are similar devices on the horizontal stabilizer, and also some deicing fluid spouts on the prop.

The plane also has air conditioning, and while I dismissed that as unnecessary at first, it is quite a luxury when you're roasting on the ground in the hot afternoon sun.

The mission

The plane was previously owned by someone on the east coast, but our pre-buy inspection was performed at a certified Cirrus service center in Rocky Mount, North Carolina. The shop is located at Rocky Mount/Wilson airport (KRWI), about an hour NE of Raleigh.

Fortunately for us, one of our original club members is a CFI and a former Cirrus instructor, having done ample instruction in the SR20 series of aircraft. He's also had experience ferrying aircraft across the US, so he was the perfect person to lead this mission. I was one of two pilot members who joined along for the ride, helping fly some of the legs home.

Avionics woes

On Tuesday the three of us flew from Portland, OR to Raleigh, NC and spent the night in downtown Raleigh. In the morning we drove out to the airport to the see the new plane for the first time.

This was the first time anyone in the club had laid eyes on it since the purchase, and there were a few surprises. The interior had some blemishes that weren't in the listing photos, and there were a couple of nicks and scratches on the body we weren't expecting. Overall though, the plane looked good.

We spent some time updating the databases on the Entegra and the IFD systems (which all use different databases, of course). We then did a thorough preflight and towed her to the fuel island. We filled the plane to the tabs (little markers inside the fuel tanks which indicate about 1/2 full), then added a little extra fuel for a test flight. As we taxied out we noticed that the transponder reported as failed on the IFD display, though it came back online before we took off.

We departed VFR and did a quick test flight around the Rocky Mount area, putting the plane through its paces. We did some stalls and steep turns, tested the autopilot, and ran the TKS system for a bit to see how the deicing membranes were working ¹. We noticed the transponder failed a couple more times on our flight. It was unclear to us which component was failing; we just saw a generic "Xpdr fault" alert.

We landed and parked the plane back by the hangar, then told the mechanics about the transponder issue. Looking back through our correspondence, apparently the issue had also been reported by the ferry pilot who flew the aircraft to North Carolina, but the squawk got lost in the shuffle of paperwork and didn't get seen by the mechanics.

The avionics technician worked hard to diagnose the issue in the afternoon (and also addressed a small autopilot trim problem too). He was able to reproduce the transponder issue on the ground twice, and one time the transponder had to be power-cycled to come back up.

Meanwhile, we were considering our route westward. Sweeping across the U.S. was a large cold front, with the usual convective activity (thunderstorms) leading and trailing it. This system stretched from Canada to Mexico, with considerable icing potential on our northern route home. We decided our best choice was to head south towards the Houston area where the weather was bad, but didn't have significant thunderstorms forecasted (yet). The sooner we could leave the better, so we could make it west before the front closes in on Texas.

Around 6pm we had a discussion with the avionics technician, and he told us that they would need to procure a diagnostic tool that could identify the cause of the transponder fault. It wouldn't be until tomorrow afternoon that'd we'd know what the issue was, and even then it was unlikely they could fix it.

While the transponder is important, it is not required equipment. As long as we stayed out of large Class B and C airspace (where mode C and ADS-B reporting is required), we could fly under visual flight rules (VFR). We wouldn't be able to fly IFR though. Knowing that we could power-cycle the transponder if we needed, we decided to takeoff and start making progress west tonight.

Heading west

We loaded up the airplane and took off right after sunset. Our first stop was Barrow County, Georgia (KWDR), which we picked because it had another Cirrus Service Center on the field. The weather was VFR and the flight was smooth. We had one brief blip of the transponder during the flight, but otherwise it was reliable.

Loading up

Departing Rocky Mount

On approach into Barrow County airport

We landed at a quiet Barrow County airport, then re-fueled. With three people and baggage we could fill our plane to the fuel tabs, which gave us 47 gallons to work with (the plane holds 84 gallons total). In cruise we burn anywhere from 10-16 gallons per hour, depending on altitude. That means we'd be flying 2 hours legs, or 300 nautical miles long.

Feeling a little more confident about the plane, we picked Key Field in Meridian, Mississippi (KMEI) as our next stop. This was the first leg that I flew and it was certainly a learning experience. I wouldn't recommend your first flight in a slick, modern airplane to be late at night in unfamiliar territory. The weather was calm though. We had to climb over some low stratus clouds as we moved west, but otherwise the leg was uneventful.

We flew the RNAV 19 approach into the Meridian, even though we were VFR. Since we were landing at new and unfamiliar airports at night, we made a habit of using an instrument approach even when the weather was clear. Having LPV vertical guidance gives you confidence that you're clear of terrain and obstacles (which you can't see in the black abyss below).

The FBO at Key Field was phenomenal. They were able to get us a crew car, a hotel at a discounted rate, and even warmed up some hotdogs for us. We spent the night in charming downtown Meridian.

Waiting out the weather

We woke up early Thursday morning and ate breakfast at the hotel, considering our options for the day. Overnight, the gap that we were hoping to shoot through in Texas had closed up. The prog chart and convective outlook were predicting thunderstorms from Dallas all the way to Gulf.

We could continue south for a couple more hours, but the convective activity was closing in fast. Looking further ahead, the cold front seem to collide with smaller system and became a stationary front over south Texas, where it would linger for several days. The prog chart was predicting nasty convection through the weekend.

Looking north, the front was moving swiftly and predictably east. It was forecast to pass though Tennessee by the end of the day. This means we could go north, land, then wait for the front to pass over us.

Considering all this we bailed on our southern route and planned to fly north to the Memphis area. We picked Tunica, Mississippi as our destination, on the southwest side of the Memphis airspace.

We loaded up and took off from Meridian under IFR, then turned towards Tennessee. Despite the nasty weather ahead the flight was quite smooth.

A T-45 on the ground in Meridian

Watching the weather from the backseat

In the soup

Given the proximity of the front, this was the most nail-biting leg of the trip. ATC was very helpful and was able to keep on the east side of the airport (even though it was closer to Memphis's airspace), then they gave us vectors to the field so we could land VFR. We elected not to fly an instrument approach because it would mean more time in the air and take us farther north (closer to the storm).

About 30 minutes after we landed the front passed (we noted the flags in the front of the FBO changed directions). We were able to park the plane under a large canopy to keep it out of the weather. Heavy rain and thunderstorms followed, and we were happy to be inside.

Blue skies

We watched the storm roll through from the FBO in Tunica. We ventured out for a bite to eat in town, and stopped into a Piggly Wiggly for some supplies.

As the afternoon wore on, the front moved slowly overhead and the storms thinned out. By 3pm we only needed to go 20 miles due west to be out of the system, but there were still some cells in the area with tops above 25,000'.

Around 4pm there was enough of a gap in the cells that we felt comfortable departing. We took off IFR and ATC routed us due west, where they were seeing the least precipitation. We punched through some low stratus, then flew between layers before the clouds dramatically gave way to sunshine.

Escaping the storms

Popping out on the other side

The Arkansas River in the distance

The rest of the flight was smooth and easy. We flew west over Arkansas, seeing Little Rock from the air. The clouds scattered as we flew and it was clear by the time we landed in McAlester, Oklahoma.

We flew a normal pattern into McAlester, but struggled to find the fuel station after we landed. The ramp was quite dark and there were no signs pointing to the FBO. We even asked a transiting Caravan pilot about the location of fuel, but they didn't know either. We parked somewhere on the west ramp and called the FBO. 100LL was only available by truck (which is lovingly call "full-service fuel"). Fortunately there was no call-out fee and the lineman met us with the truck quickly.

As we fueled we we decided on Amarillo, Texas as our next leg. It was a major airport with a large FBO and lots of hotels nearby. It would give us a good launching point for our trek over the Rockies tomorrow.

The flight from McAlester to Amarillo was clear and smooth. We passed over the lights of Oklahoma City to the north and Wichita Falls to the south. We made a 10pm landing at the Amarillo airport and parked at Signature Aviation. They were kind enough to give us a ride to the Fairfield Inn, just on the south side of the airport. Bell Helicopter has a large facility on the field and we passed many of their buildings as we drove.

Route 66

We were in high spirits Friday morning. With the bad weather behind us and blue skies ahead, there was a possibility we'd make it back to the northwest today.

Behind us, the weather over south Texas and Louisiana had taken another a turn for the worse. With more thunderstorms developing today, had we continued south we surely would've gotten stuck.

We returned to our plane on a dry, crisp ramp and did our preflight. Continuing west, essentially following I-40 (or Route 66, if you prefer), we identified our next stop as Gallup, New Mexico.

The terrain slowly climbs as you enter the Colorado Plateau, and the Gallup airport sits at nearly 6,500' MSL. We had purchased a portable oxygen system for our trip, knowing we'd need to pass through the Rockies somewhere. With one bottle and three cannulas we'd have about 4-5 hours of oxygen assuming an altitude 10,500 feet. Higher altitudes and we'd need more O₂ and burn through the tank more quickly.

The flight from Amarillo to Gallup got progressively more scenic as the dirt below us turned reddish and the terrain got more ragged.

We landed at Gallup (which was my first daytime landing) and got fuel, then turned our attention to the next leg. Grand Canyon International, which is located on the southern rim of the Grand Canyon, was a little over an hour away. We figured we'd have some extra fuel to do a scenic loop over the canyon before landing.

We departed to the west and climbed again to 10,500'. As we neared Lake Powell, we made a plan for our Grand Canyon tour. The Grand Canyon is a special flight rules area which is made up of multiple sectors. VFR traffic transiting the canyon has to use specific corridors at specific altitudes. We ended up making a large loop to the south, turning west along the south rim, then turning north over Saddle Mountain. We descended along Marble Canyon as we set up to land at Page.

It was a bumpy ride, but the views were exceptional. Truly a one-of-a-kind experience.

Turning south towards the eastern edge of the canyon

Along the south rim

Marble Canyon

The approach into Page is dramatic. The town sits on a high point with the lake to the north, the Glen Canyon dam to the west, and Tower Butte to the east. We made our traffic pattern over the lake and landed on runway 15.

The Glen Canyon dam

Turning downwind for runway 15, with the town of Page just beyond the runway

Tower Butte in the distance

The Page airport was bustling with activity. There were several tour companies operating private sightseeing flights, and some jet activity. There are three different FBOs on the field and we were easily able to get fuel, and refilled our oxygen bottle too.

On the ground we took a bit of a break and discussed our options. The weather in the northwest was looking particularly bad. Lots of icing and precipitation on both sides of the Cascade mountains. Our hope of getting home today wasn't looking promising. We decided we would head northwest and land in Tonopah, Nevada and decide if we could make it.

We departed Page and I flew a small scenic loop over Lake Powell, then we turned west ². We flew towards St. George, Utah. We saw dramatic red rock scenery to the north as we flew, and referencing our charts we realized we were looking at the Canaan Mountain Wilderness, and beyond it, Zion National Park.

Lake Powell

Zion National Park

Canaan Mountain, just east of St. George

We turned north slightly north and transited the Desert and Reveille MOAs, which were not in use at the time. I made a dusk landing into Tonopah, which was not my best. I had to remind myself that this was my third landing in the airplane. It's a lot different than our 182.

Sitting in a vast, flat valley, Tonopah is truly in the middle of nowhere. The airport also doesn't have self-serve fuel, which is something we learned after we landed. There is full-service fuel available but with a $100 call-out fee after 5pm. We landed around 6 (sigh).

Unlike flying in the eastern U.S., where there is an airport every 20 miles, there are far fewer airports in the sparely-populated Nevada desert. We bit the bullet and called out for fuel. The lineman showed up quickly, fueled us up to tabs and also let us into the terminal building. It ended up being a good experience, minus the $100.

Looking at the weather once again we made the decision to not try for Portland today. We contemplated a leg to Lakeview or Klamath Falls, but with widespread icing and IFR conditions we decided it was a poor idea (especially in the dark). The weather was clear to Reno, where we knew there would be services and an abundance of hotels.

The short hop to Reno was smooth, or it was until we started our decent into the city. Reno is surrounded by high ridges, and with strong winds from the southeast we got knocked around pretty good on approach. We heard that this is a typical experience flying into Reno.

We overflew the city lights and landed on runway 17L, in between a business jet and an airliner. We parked at Atlantic Aviation, a large FBO, and caught an Uber into town for the night.

Having an out

After waking up Saturday we took a long, hard look at the weather up north, trying to find a way to make it home. There was a significant storm system pushing through the NW and bringing with it typical November weather: cold clouds, precipitation, and ice.

While our airplane does have a TKS anti-ice system, we are not certified for flight into known icing, what's known as FIKI. A true FIKI system requires more heated components, redundancy, and rigorous flight testing (though some newer Cirrus airplanes are FIKI certified).

Simply put, this means we need to stay out of clouds when the temperature is below or close to freezing. While it may be counter-intuitive, this is actually a good reason to fly VFR. You're able to choose the best routes and altitudes, turning and climbing at your discretion. You don't need to wait for a clearance to climb above weather, and you can descend below ATC's minimum altitudes if you need to dip below something.

We made a plan to fly north, but stay east of the Cascades. We'd fly along to Bend, which forecast decent weather, then continue north to The Dalles, weather permitting. We planned to use an instrument approach into Madras (with a popup IFR clearance), to descend through the cloud layer if we needed.

Another complicating factor was oxygen. Oddly, none of the FBOs at Reno International were able to refill our oxygen bottle (this seems baffling for a large airport with a large amount of mountain traffic). We had about a half of a tank left from our flight yesterday. We'd have plenty of terrain clearance at 8,500', but we'd need to climb to 10,500' or 12,500' to get above the cloud tops, which would increase the rate of oxygen use for the three of us.

This was the only point in the journey where, if it were solely me making the decision, I would've chosen to stay on the ground. We had an experienced instructor though, who was well-versed in winter flying in Oregon. He emphasized to us that as long as you have an out, a plan B that you are willing to use, we could make a marginal day work.

We departed Reno VFR and flew north. We climbed to 8,500' initially, but as we expected the terrain grew higher and so did the clouds. We climbed to 10,500', but soon started skimming the tops of the layer below us. We ended up at 12,500' for most of the flight, which was great for fuel burn, but accelerated our oxygen usage.

As we crossed into Oregon the clouds descended below us and started to scatter. Sure enough, the Bend area was clear, as forecast. There was one tall layer of clouds in between Bend and Madras where we considered using that instrument approach, but once we flew over it we saw that it was clear on the other side to The Dalles. One thing about flying among broke cloud layers is that from a distance the clouds always looks solid and overcast; it's not until you're flying over them that can see if it's actually broken or scattered.

Departing the hills surrounding Reno

Clouds and snowy terrain near the Oregon border

Skirting above one final layer before descending into The Dalles

We descended into The Dalles and got some bone-rattling jolts, thanks to the wind in the gorge and the terrain to the west. I made my first half-decent landing though, despite crosswind gusts of 20 knots.

We got fuel at The Dalles and decided the weather would be just good enough to attempt passage through The Gorge into the Portland area. We pinged the rest of our flying club members and told them we were on our way, then blasted off for our final leg.

Coming up The Gorge wasn't quite scud-running, but it might have been close. We had to descend to 1800 at one point to make it below the clouds. Once through, we contacted Portland Approach and they transited us past Troutdale and PDX.

The Bonneville dam

We made a straight-in approach to runway 26 at Pearson Airport and landed. Several club members came out to greet us and the new airplane, and we parked in its new hangar.

Closing thoughts

The trip was an awesome experience for me, and a really inspiring task. I've done more flight planning in this one week than I usually do in a year.

Some things I learned:

• Flying an airplane across the country is a great way to learn its systems and checklists, but not a good way to get a feel for the airplane
• Things happen fast when you're descending into your destination at 170 knots.
• When you file an alternate with your flight plan, it can be a good idea to pick an airport along your route before you get to your destination. This is especially true if the weather is deteriorating along your course. This gives you an out that you can evaluate before you've burned most of your fuel getting to your destination
• I didn't talk about the Cirrus parachute system, but it definitely provides some peace of mind when flying at night over unfriendly terrain
• Cross-country flight planning like this requires flexibility: you have to be patient or efficient as needed
• It's amazing the redundancy a second (or even a third) pilot provides