Route 66 Air Rally

[PhrogPhlyer]

6 minutes ago, taoftedal said:

the good folks at Lycoming

Just don't tell them it's a trans-"Continental" rally.

They might want their semi-hat returned.

[jgf]

21 minutes ago, taoftedal said:

asked that I mention them in any interviews with the press along the route.  Oh, and they gave me a hat to wear

 

Ah, a NASCARE event. lol

[PhrogPhlyer]

9 hours ago, jgf said:

Ah, a NASCARE

Oh but we are members of the esteemed NAASSKY.

National Association of Aircraft Simulation Superlative Katzenjammer Yeomen,

 

Here are our new offices/hangar.

[Airbasil_1]

54 minutes ago, PhrogPhlyer said:

Here are our new offices/hangar.

 

Mine would rather be these ones: 

 

Hangar: 

 

 

Office: 
 

[PhrogPhlyer]

20 minutes ago, Airbasil_1 said:

Here are our new offices/hangar.

Basil, the intention behind the photo is a bit of humor around the creation of a non-existent group NAASSKY.

Old hangar and decrepit aircraft as home for an "esteemed" group, in line with the fun banter going back and forth as we prepare for the rally's start.

[TomPenDragon]

26 minutes ago, Airbasil_1 said:

Mine would rather be these ones:

Have to admit, those are pretty nice...  Probably smell a lot better than a 55-year-old flying club Cherokee, too.

[TomPenDragon]

2 hours ago, PhrogPhlyer said:

NAASSKY.

I'm more an IMSA man myself - the Institute of Mentally-Suspect Airmen.

[TomPenDragon]

Prologue - Atizapan

 

The ringing of his cellphone woke Reymundo Paul Harrison. The ringtone was the sound of an old, mechanical telephone bell, sharp and impossible to ignore. He reached over to the nightstand and felt around. The phone was not there. He grunted and opened one eye. Sunlight shone through the curtains – well, at least whoever it is had the decency to wait until morning, instead of calling in the middle of the night – although if they had, they would have found him awake – he had only fallen asleep a little before 4:00. Since he used his phone as a clock, he had no idea what time it was. Judging from the tone and angle of the sunlight, though, business hours were still a ways off – somebody was about to get a lecture about appropriate times to call. He always told his clients that they could call him anytime, 24/7/365. He never really meant it – not unless it was a genuine business or personal catastrophe that could not wait - and most of his clients knew and respected that.

 

But, what if it was a genuine crisis? He shot out of bed before the person on the other end grew frustrated and hung up. Too quickly - he had to stop in the middle of the floor as the room dissolved into a gray fog, try to hold his balance as best he could - and wait for his brain and his eyesight to return. It made him feel old. He was just 35, but it had been a very rough year and he was exhausted. Were he his client, he would be chiding them about finding a better life balance. He usually trotted out, “It isn't success unless the intra-personal, interpersonal, and professional are all addressed and satisfied,” in his very first session with a new person. But, were he a cobbler, he'd be barefoot. His first laugh of the day was at himself.

 

The phone kept ringing. He had disabled the voicemail feature, so it would keep on sounding until the person on the other end got frustrated and hung up. This caller was persistent as well as boundary-challenged, though, and perhaps he should re-think this. Why did he have it like this in the first place – oh, because he guaranteed his clients absolute confidentiality and could neither vouch for the security of his provider’s voicemail system nor his clients’ understanding of this fact and their discretion to not leave sensitive information in a message. He worked with some very powerful people, and powerful people could be dangerous when they felt betrayed.

 

He walked into his closet. One wall was lined with suits, top and bottom. Mauro de México was all he wore these days. Tom had introduced him to Mauro – the only way the tailor would take on new clients. The memory reminded him that he had three more on order, and Mauro had been trying to get him in for a fitting since the beginning of October. It was nearly the end of the month already – where did October go? First thing next week, he was going to have to go to Mauro’s shop in Colonia Del Valle and get that done.

Tom had been right about Mauro; once you wore a Mauro de México, you’d never be satisfied with another suit. They moved with you like body paint, never went out of style, and were perfectly constructed – impeccably; that was a better adjective. He shrugged his shoulders as he considered the fact that, while he may have been stressed, frazzled, frustrated, concerned, and hasta la madre far more times in the past year than he would have ever accepted from his clients or even wished to admit to himself, he had looked darned good doing it. Sometimes, the mere appearance of control and competency was enough.

 

Opposite the the suits were his casual clothes. In the center was a dressing table and chair, piled high with what he had been wearing since Wednesday. While his suits were carefully hung and arranged by seasons and colors, his downtime wear was scattered haphazardly, carelessly-hung shirts, pants, sweats, and the like all lumped together as an afterthought. A metaphor for his life, he realized. It’s too early to be having such realizations, he realized immediately afterward. One’s life was always worth examining, but only after one’s first cup of coffee.

 

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was unmistakably Latino: His refined features came from the blood of conquistadores; his skin tone and the curliness of his hair from the blood of their African slaves… But his overall countenance, and his heart, were Mayan. He stood somewhat shorter than the typical man, at 170 centimeters. While he had always tended toward thin, this was only due to nerves and never being able to find the time to eat properly – he would blow up like a balloon if he let himself.

 

The phone sounded once more, and he fished it out of a jacket pocket. “Hello,” he said with a weariness in his voice that surprised him.

 

“Hey, Rey, what you say?” came out of the speaker in a rich tenor.

 

“Tom?” Rey asked, his eyes instantly wide open, although he already knew the answer. “Tommy Merlin! Wow, man, great to hear from you! How’ve you been?”

 

J. Thomas PenDragon. Head of I Group. Former rock star, keyboardist and rhythm guitarist for the Royal Keepers, where Tommy Merlin was his stage name. His boss, although Tom preferred the terms, “Success Facilitator,” or simply, “servant,” for brevity. His mentor, who had first elevated him from check-in clerk to Resident Manager at New York’s most exclusive luxury boutique hotel, the Prestige, and then had moved him into the life he had today. His friend, certainly his best friend, perhaps his only friend because when one is moving and shaking, who has time for friends?

 

“Pretty good,” Tom PenDragon said. “You?”

 

“Good,”Rey answered, the smile on his face shining through the phone line. “Busy.”

 

“I’ve heard. I’m impressed. Been flying lately?” Tom’s question struck Rey out of left field.

 

“I haven’t really had the time.” Rey answered directly – it was too early to try to game out where Tom might be going with this.

 

“How are your projects coming along?” Tom certainly knew the answer to this. Why was he asking?

 

“I finished up my last on Tuesday. Or did I?” Conversations with his friend were always challenging – even a casual chat was a chess game with the man. Rey decided to take a pawn.

 

“I don’t know. Do you have anything in the pipeline?” Honesty was about the only rule of their games. If Tom said he didn’t know, he didn’t know. He was getting at something else, then.

 

“Not for the rest of the year,” Rey said. “I’ve been driving myself pretty hard all year. You asked about flying? If I’ve logged five hours this year, it’s a lot. No, probably not even that much.”

 

“What’s your license situation?” Tom actually wanted to talk about flying, then; it wasn’t a just a feint. This seemed a strange topic of conversation, seeing as the last time they had talked had been on New Year’s Eve, and then only to exchange seasonal pleasantries.

 

“Current,” Rey answered. “I did have time for that. So, PPL with instrument and multi-engine ratings…”

 

“Oh, you got your multi? That’s great!”

 

“I was also starting to work on Experimental.”

 

“Want to fly sportsplanes, huh?”

 

“Oh, do you think you can take a guy up in a dual-control Mustang, let him fly it for a half-hour, and not have the bug bite him, Thomas?”

 

“But that was the flight that convinced you to go for your license.”

 

“Yes it was. And I’ll never be the same, thank you very much.”

 

“So, if you don’t have any plans, want to go flying?”

 

“Yeah, I’d love to. When do you get back from Europe?”

 

“Two weeks ago. I’m home. Where are you?”

 

“Home. Atizapan. I can’t remember if I told you – I bought your old house at the Airpark at the end of last year. If you’re in Morelos… I don’t have any plans for today, so why don’t you stop by if you have the time and we’ll take something up.”

 

“I was thinking of something a little more extensive than an hamburger run. Have plans for November, Rey?"

 

“Uh, no, not right now.”

 

“Want to go air racing?”

 

“Huh? No, I’m not anywhere near proficient enough for racing. I doubt I could even keep anything halfway lively straight and level these days.”

 

“See, that right there makes you a good pilot, Rey. You know your limits.”

 

“Only because it was the very first thing you said to me, the first time you took me up. And you never stopped saying it all flight. And then you gave the Cirrus...”

 

“’Cause I saw you had the bug. The gleam in your eyes was unmistakable. And from the first time you took the stick, I saw right-mindedness, too. You wanted to know what the aircraft could do, but you asked first. You told me what you wanted to try, and you looked to make sure my hand was firmly on the stick before you tried it. Want to know a secret? It wasn’t. It never was. The moment you looked away, I loosened my grip and let my hand relax on the armrest. All of your landings, from the very first one, were all you. All I ever did was talk you through the first few. Had I been a CFI, I would have soloed you after our third or fourth flight together. You’re far more of a natural pilot than I ever was.”

 

“That’s kind, Tom. And you’re right; I do know my limits, so I’ll have to bow out.”}

 

“It’s not that kind of air racing. More rally-style. Have you heard of U.S. Route 66?”

 

“As in, ‘Get Your Kicks On…’? Did the Keepers ever do a cover of that one?”

 

“Nah, that’s a little older than most of the stuff we did. Chuck Berry and The Stones did great rock-and-roll covers of the song; the world didn’t need another one from us. But yes, the very same. Runs – ran, it was delisted as a highway in 1985, but I think most of the roadway’s still there – from Chicago to L.A. - Santa Monica, to be precise. What it really is is a challenge of how well a pilot can make and stick to a flight plan: Penalty time is awarded for arriving earlier and later than your plan; the team with the lowest penalty time wins. And it’s GA aircraft, too; no tearing around in a Mustang. To me, it’s really more of a road trip than a race. I thought it might give us a chance to catch up, too.”

 

“Now that sounds interesting. Sticking to the timing of a flight plan has always been a weak point for me…”

 

“Me, too – I’ve always been more of a, ‘get there when I get there,’ kind of guy.”

 

“All November? Well, I do need a break… Okay, Tommy, I’m in.”

 

“Great! Pack a bag and I’ll pick you up in an hour or two. Oh, did the Airpark ever install that fuel pump we were talking about some years back?”

 

“It’s a committee – what do you think? We’re still talking about it.”

 

“Could you call a fuel truck, then? I’m a little low. 100LL.”

 

“Sure thing. Around 9:00 okay?”

 

“I’ll be there by then, then. See you…”

 

Rey looked down at the phone once the line went dead, and summed up his mixture of surprise, shock, confusion, and excitement in four words, spoken aloud to nobody but himself:

 

“WTAF?”

[PhrogPhlyer]

2 hours ago, TomPenDragon said:

“’Cause I saw you had the bug. The gleam in your eyes was unmistakable. And from the first time you took the stick, I saw right-mindedness, too. You wanted to know what the aircraft could do, but you asked first. You told me what you wanted to try, and you looked to make sure my hand was firmly on the stick before you tried it. Want to know a secret? It wasn’t. It never was. The moment you looked away, I loosened my grip and let my hand relax on the armrest. All of your landings, from the very first one, were all you. All I ever did was talk you through the first few. Had I been a CFI, I would have soloed you after our third or fourth flight together. You’re far more of a natural pilot than I ever was.”

Dabbing away a "speck of dust" from the corner of my eye as I read this again and again.

The CFI's dream student.

Now that's someone you want sitting next to you on this rally!

[PhrogPhlyer]

2 hours ago, TomPenDragon said:

Institute of Mentally-Suspect Airmen

Shhhhhh...

I'd bet there are many of us, I mean OTHERS of course (cough cough), who are also members.

[PhrogPhlyer]

4 hours ago, TomPenDragon said:

55-year-old flying club Cherokee

Been there, smelled that! LOL

[PhrogPhlyer]

45 minutes ago, Sirrus said:

Can I enter this beauty please?

Well, I would say a "civilianized" '51, especially one so beautifully maintained, is quite welcome.

As a young kid, hanging around my local airport, N87, there was a red Mustang, brings back memories,

What year was she manufactured, and will you be staying with FSX (inquiring minds want to know)?

I see you landed an Air India sponsorship, you must have friends in high places.

Hope you have a more successful run the the original had in 1962.

[PhrogPhlyer]

6 hours ago, TomPenDragon said:

no tearing around in a Mustang

Looks like we may have one in the Rally, but since scoring is on estimated time per leg vs actual time per leg, we don't have to worry as it roars past us,

[ScottishMike]

“Springfield or St Louis?”

“Springfield.” She replied “Big enough to have a decent hotel, but small enough to be friendly.”.

 

The taxi took over half an hour to arrive.

It was a Best Western, not luxury but good enough.

“I thought it went quite well. Food'l be here in a minute.” I was hungry. It was our first proper timed test run Lansing to Zelmer.

“It looks good if you just look at the headlines, plan was 2hours 25minutes, actual 2hours 26minutes. But looking at the detail you realize we were 13minutes late. Just lucky the 13minutes was wiped out by not doing the 12minute circuit I had included in the plan.”

We had decided that we would do a proper circuit at destination airports. Her words rang in my ears:”You are going to have to be disciplined: Join the circuit 1000' above the runway heading upwind, continue for 2minutes then crosswind for 2minutes downwind for 4minutes descending to 500' above Rwy then 2minutes base leg then final, which should also be close enough to 2minutes.

So I can plan 12 minutes on arrival overhead. Subject to ATC of course”.

Suzanne showed me the plan we (well, mostly she) had worked out:

Airport to airport distance 169 n.m.

Climb to cruise 5000' 7minutes and 6n.m. 163 n.m at cruise remaining

Normal cruise 106 kts – wind 233/35 kts actual cruise 73kts (163 n.m. / 73 = 2.23 hrs = 2hrs 14minutes) add 12minutes for circuit = 2hrs 26minutes

Given we skipped the circuit because we were behind planned time it's not a particularly good result.

“What do you think went wrong” Her plan really, so she could answer.

“Mostly the wind. It wasn't consistently 233/35 kts. It varied from 223/37 to 238/32. Almost a head wind but not perfectly so. Always planning for a circuit on arrival does give us some le-way. As today it can be omitted to save time.”

“Let's sleep on it and discuss it during the flight back tomorrow. Keeping to heading, altitude and speed more taxing than I had expected. The aircraft had an autopilot but it was not connected. I'm off to bed.” I said wearily.

“See you tomorrow, seven sharp for breakfast.” She reminded.

“Yes Ma'm.” I saluted.

[PhrogPhlyer]

1 minute ago, ScottishMike said:

Yes Ma'm.” I saluted.

Smart man,

[jgf]

29 minutes ago, PhrogPhlyer said:

have friends in high places.

 

 

I have high friends in places.

[PhrogPhlyer]

1 minute ago, jgf said:

I have high friends in places.

Lots of that happening in several "legal weed" States.

[taoftedal]

1 hour ago, ScottishMike said:

 

.. we would do a proper circuit at destination airports. Her words rang in my ears:”You are going to have to be disciplined: Join the circuit 1000' above the runway heading upwind, continue for 2minutes then crosswind for 2minutes downwind for 4minutes descending to 500' above Rwy then 2minutes base leg then final, which should also be close enough to 2minutes.

 

 

... and remember Suzanne ... 6) Route time for each leg begins when you roll for take-off, and ends at a full stop on landing. The Committee is really testing our math and navigation skills on this rally.  Time to dust off the E-6B ...

 

[PhrogPhlyer]

16 minutes ago, taoftedal said:

Time to dust off the E-6B

I'm so evil.

 

[PhrogPhlyer]

14 minutes ago, Sirrus said:

Unfortunately it crashed in April 1962, killing Flockhart.

I've read much about this, such a shame.

I'll call it a '45 model, unless you can find out more specifically.

I can't find anything other than the '62 race info.

And , welcome aboard.

[PhrogPhlyer]

Route leg distances in NM and SM. SM = NM X 1.15

 

One of our "eagle eyed" participants noticed and error with the leg one distance.

It's been corrected,

Edited October 27, 2023 by PhrogPhlyer
Correction to Leg 1 mileage.

[taoftedal]

Holy computer Batman!  I mention a E-6B and they make me a Guru!  

[PhrogPhlyer]

1 minute ago, taoftedal said:

I mention a E-6B and they make me a Guru!

You're right, yo should be using the Jepp CR.

[PhrogPhlyer]

And now there are SEVEN! Plenty of ramp space for more entrants.

Sirrus, glad to have you here.

 

 

[jgf]

53 minutes ago, taoftedal said:

Time to dust off the E-6B ...

 

There's actually an E-6B gauge for FS2004;  I am ignorant of its use but it came with a couple of aircraft i have.