After going through all the hoops set up by the CBP websites in order to prepare the way for crossing the Canada - USA border--decal purchase for the aeroplane, eAPIS registration, examination to check whether Chris knows the regulations pertinent to the Special Flight Rules Area around Washington DC (including the printing and filing of the Certificate to say he'd passed), on-line notice of intent to cross the border, phone calls to Syracuse Customs to announce the exact time of our arrival, as well as filing the Flight Plan--our actual entry into the USA was surprisingly easy, this time.
We revved up at the appropriate time, Chris having briefed me on the flight procedures ("I will ask you questions like 'What angle must we fly at from here?'" - pointing to the Ottawa VOR on our Canadian LO-chart), and took off from Runway 09 at 11 a.m (15 Zulu). As soon as we were airborne, Chris was speaking to the Air Traffic Controller who "had his IFR" for him, writing it down and reading it back in the air. "YOW VOR to Syracuse VOR Victor 145 Flight Planned Route Maintain 6000 feet climbing through 2500 feet at this time." The distance was about 140 nautical miles and as we crossed the St Lawrence, where lies the international border, we entered thin cloud and began talking to the Air Traffic Controllers from Wheeler-Sack (a military base responsible for the airspace in these parts), who have a noticeably different (New York) accent from the Montrealers. The upper winds had smoothed the upper surface of the clouds as if with sweeps of a broad paintbrush, and when we came close to the shore of Lake Ontario south of Watertown we could see some of it through holes in the cloud layer. Over to Syracuse Approach who said, "Fly heading 216 and I'll have the direct approach available for you momentarily." Which sounds to a British English speaker as though his approach heading may not be available for very long so he'll have to make best speed, but which actually means: any moment now.
We were beaten to the customs shed by a Metroliner that touched down just before we did and we were told to park beside this aircraft that had been into Canada and was bringing back some object from the military, packed in a large cardboard box. A voice on the air commented, "Ugly, isn't it?" so the Metroliner's Captain must have felt doubly insulted when Chris asked, "Is that the one over there with the spindly legs?"
"Don't give the Metroliner crew a hard time, now!" warned ground control.
Having given the Metroliner a going-over, the customs / immigration officer rolled over to our spot in his car, checked our passports, tried to find radioactive material in PTN with his Geiger counter, failed, made a joke of it, and we were free to go, all within the space of about three minutes.
Our next stop was at another corner of the Syracuse airfield, the FBO Exec Air who without any formality other than a sign-up sheet handed us the keys to their "crew car" and a hand-drawn map to the recommended local diner, Zebbs, the sort of place that has posters of Elvis and Marilyn Monroe on the chrome plated walls and offers you boneless Buffalo wings at vinyl topped tables in little booths. I had a tasty bowl of chilli topped with melted cheese. Rain began as we drove back to the airport along a street lined with greenery and flowering trees; in gardening terms, we were already well ahead of Ottawa.
The heavy shower was finishing as we took PTN down the long taxiway past the New York Air National Guard base to the threshold of Rwy 28 for take-off. We climbed towards the cloud base and ATC cleared us "direct, when able" to the VOR at Binghamton. Victor 499, our airway of choice, was long, straight and monotonous, because we were "in IMC" (i.e. had no view) for most of the way. Through the occasional hole we saw the U-bends of the rivers and the striped fields typical of the NY - PA border. Looking out for the waypoints on our chart and on the GPS, with funny names like SCOFF, NOSEE, SWANK, MEATS, etc., we were handed off to Wilkes-Barre (pronounced "Wilksbury") and then Harrisburg Approach. The Harrisburg controller helpfully encouraged us to fly "direct Westminster" so as to make a short cut on the planned route and then, "direct Gaithersburg", which meant we must be nearly there. It may also have suited Traffic Control's purposes to keep us out of the way of the larger aircraft like the Springbok Heavy and the Lufthansa Heavy that were also flying around somewhere up there. The girl being trained (Chris assumes) as a Potomac Approach controller gave PTN a heading to fly but didn't tell him that it was an intercept heading, and didn't clear us for the approach. As we flew through the VOR radial, Chris prompted her and her supervisor took over, giving us the proper approach clearance! For the initiated, Gaithersburg has a "non-precision approach". I think Chris was glad to touch down. It had been a long flight into an unknown, high-traffic area and I'm sure he was feeling tired.
Once on the ground, it's my turn to take responsibility for our movements, so I got us a taxi to the Comfort Inn at Shady Grove where we were booked in for the next four nights. We checked in, had supper at the Indian restaurant next door and spent the next day in downtown Washington, getting there by means of the metro train. I'll describe Friday May 1st in my next blogpost.
On Friday evening we were just in the process of renting a car when we had a call from George at Norfolk airport, VA. "I'm on an earlier flight," he said, "getting to Dulles at 6:30 instead of 9. Any chance you could meet me that early?" It meant we had to drive down the 12 lane Interstate during the rush-hour instead of at a quieter time of day, but what a bonus to have two more hours of his company than we'd anticipated! We managed it, following my printout from Mapquest, and met him in the baggage hall. Feeling wobbly with hunger I wolfed down a bag of nuts and raisins, we lost our way on the roads outside the airport, found ourselves again at a suburb called Sterling, and ate a relaxing supper (with beers) at an Irish pub, out on the patio in the evening sunshine.
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