Saturday, July 10, 2004 dawned with poor weather around southern and central Michigan due to fog. Our much-anticipated early departure to Mackinac Island (MCD) was not going to happen.

I had reserved the former 444UM for the planned day-trip, but 444UM been taken off-line. Instead, earlier in the week Finlay had changed the reservation to the brand new Skyhawk SP. I was excited. Not only was I planning my first real trip, but my wife, Kelly, was coming along and we had a brand new aircraft in which to fly. Kelly and I had flown a few sight-seeing flights, and had done the obligatory Marshall trip for dinner at Schuler's for our anniversary in May. But we had yet to really go somewhere.

It had been slightly over seven months since December 2003 when my CFI, Erik Alderink turned me over to Bill Lewis, and Bill had put ink on paper and told me that I was now a Private Pilot. I had flown short flights in the meantime, but was anxious to put my aeronautical skills to use with a genuine cross-country trip. Kelly and I had scrubbed a planned trip to Traverse City just two weeks earlier in late June due to wind gusts of 25-29kts. I was disappointed at the prospect of yet another weather-related cancellation. I moved the planned lift-off from 0600 to 0900 and stayed glued to duats.com, weather.com, accuweather.com, weather.unisys.com, weatherunderground.com?

By 0930, I had preflighted the plane and Kelly and I were in a hold mode at ARB. 888UM stood loaded on the tarmac in anticipation the flight. Kelly sat in the van with her book. It was hard for me to decide if she was disappointed or relieved by the weather. She had said all during my training that she might not ever want to fly with me. I was shamelessly trying to introduce her to the activity with flights to places that would interest her. I hoped it was working, but who can tell with women?

Finally, the fog was burning off and Lansing FSS said that the report of occasional IFR across south and central Michigan had been lifted. It now felt right for flying.

We loaded and called for taxi clearance with information Lima. I chuckled to myself. Working as a police officer around the airport, I had for years carried in my car an aviation band scanner. While parked near the airport writing reports or whatever, I avidly listened to the ground and tower frequencies trying to decipher what it all meant and dreaming of learning to fly. I recalled once, several years ago, hearing someone calling for taxi clearance with Whisky. I had wondered why on earth they would announce such a thing over the air! I had spent several years listening to the radio and wishing the budget allowed flight lessons. Almost a dozen years earlier I had taken a discovery flight with Finlay and had been hooked. He and I had seen each other often around the airport in the intervening years and he always encouraged me to never stop dreaming of learning. His patience and encouragement paid off, and I finally had the budget angle worked out. I had not wanted to have to save a bit and fly a bit, so I waited until I had the money in the bank all at once. Of course, I still went way over budget, but what the heck, it was worth it.

When we called for taxi clearance, the tower seemed a bit taken aback by the new call sign 888UM. With only a dozen hours on the Skyhawk's Hobbs, many of which were undoubtedly from the ferry flight from the factory, the tower had not yet become familiar with the new aircraft. Shiny and proud in the mid-morning sun, we taxied past other older, less well taken care of aircraft to the run-up area.

At 1000, ARB tower announced, "888UM, runway 24 cleared for takeoff, right turn approved to the north." I pushed the throttle in using the three count like John King does in the training video. In retrospect, with the new engine it should have been a five count or so, and we started to roll. The warm, moist air combined with virtually no headwind provided for very little thrust or lift. At last, nearing midfield, the plane left the ground and there was that now-familiar moment of both elation and elevation as the weight transferred from wheels to wings.

Our flight plan called for us to fly over Flint, and follow the FNT 005 radial until we reached Saginaw Bay. From there, we would track the West Branch, (BXZ) VOR and navigate between the Pike West MOA and the restricted areas around Grayling on the BXZ 000 radial. Notams listed all areas as potentially active, so we anticipated using much care to avoid them. Skyhawks don?t mix well with A-10s and F-16s. At the intersection of the BXZ 000 radial and the Gaylord, (GLR) 090 radial we would turn more westerly and would track to the Pellston, (PLN) VOR. Finally, reaching PLN, we would turn toward MCD.

Flint was hectic. It seemed that everyone in southeast Michigan had waited and taken off at the same time, and they all wanted to fly through Flint's class Charlie airspace enroute to northern Michigan. We squawked 4342 as instructed. Flint Approach was issuing rapid fire directions, but was patient with all of us. Fifteen years of listening to the police radio proved to be good experience, as I was able to keep track of what was being said and to whom. I don't know how ATC personnel do it, staying so pleasant while keeping an eye on so many aircraft. I admire them for their patience. Our flight was uneventful through the class Charlie, except for a quick vector to the west for conflicting traffic. Just north of us, we watched the traffic, a Merlin turbo-prop, pass by heading to the east. (Too cool, I gotta get one of them! Of course, not as cool as the King Air 350 that Finlay drives around!)

Shortly thereafter, Flint advised us to contact Saginaw and we did. Saginaw was a bit quieter than Flint, requiring no ATC directed detours, but was still fairly busy. Once headed toward the BXZ VOR, we requested a descent to avoid a few clouds which were filling in beneath us more than I was comfortable with. Saginaw was accommodating and we descended.

Having dropped lower, we were soon leaving Saginaw's radar coverage area. Soon we were told, "Radar service terminated, squawk VFR, have a good flight." We thanked Saginaw for their help and we were on our own. I double checked that we were on a proper VFR altitude, (Now what do John and Martha King say, "Odd North East". So, we want an even thousand plus 500 since we're headed a bit west of north).

In contrast to the machinegun fire directions we listened to from Flint and Saginaw, the solitude of being in nobody's airspace was shocking. It was a comfort to listen to local airports, CTAFs and hear the various pilots talk. Kelly kept our progress updated on our chart and we winged steadily north. Kelly has a superb ability to read maps, a result of extensive motor home travels with her parents when she was young. I kept her busy looking up CTAFs, AWOSs and such while explaining to her what the symbols on the map meant. It was as much a benefit to me as her; the best way to learn is to teach. Kelly's also a good spotter of other aircraft, having Lasik-enhanced 20/20 plus vision. Keeping us both involved in the flight was enjoyable for us both and made the time fly by. (Sorry, I couldn?t help myself!)

As we tuned different CTAFs, we heard planes that had gone through Flint with us calling their entries into the patterns at destinations such as Charlevoix and Harbor Springs. I felt a sense of camaraderie with them. We had never spoken to them, nor them to us, but we were all on missions to vacation spots using a mode of transport that only a lucky few can enjoy. I felt part of an exclusive club; a club of folks whom we did not know, but with whom we shared a bond of a common interest and skill. I felt fortunate and was thankful to be able to claim membership in the club.

We reached the BXZ and GLR radials intersection we sought and turned toward PLN. We over flew Burt and Mullett lakes. We remembered years earlier taking our boat along the inland waterway on a beautiful two day round trip from Alanson to Cheboygan and back. We spotted the rivers and locks that we had gone through. Kelly graciously resisted reminding me about scraping the boat's gelcoat horribly upon leaving the Cheboygan locks on our up-bound trip. Flying over northern Michigan was much different than flying over southern Michigan. I had become used to always having open fields below for emergency landings. Here, there were endless swamps and forests. I made myself continually know where the nearest airport was, and also kept a watch for open areas below. Paranoia can be a good instructor!

As we neared PLN, we could clearly see Bois Blanc Island to the north and, beyond it, Mackinac Island and the Upper Peninsula. The Straits area was beautiful. Seeing the bridge from the air is unforgettable. We turned toward MCD, seemingly along with every other aircraft in northern Michigan!

We listened to the MCD AWOS. The AWOS gave the noise abatement procedures for MCD. I had anticipated the procedures and had familiarized myself with them from studying the A/FD and Michigan Airport Directory with typical rookie obsession. This is a good obsession to never lose. We then tuned in the CTAF. I envisioned where everyone else was from their radio traffic. Erik had done this during my training, even at controlled airports, and it was a lesson that served me well here. A Lance, a Centurion, a Twin Cessna, a Citation (Gotta get one of them, too!), a Cirrus (Gotta get, well, never mind, you know?) and several others were approaching MCD. I managed to fit us in between a Travel Air and Cherokee. Everyone was friendly and worked to accommodate each other. We all seemed to be as anxious to help each other as we were to get on the ground. This contrasted with our experience at launch ramps with our boat, where "kill or be killed" seems to be the order of the day.

To make the MCD pattern challenging, MCD uses the same CTAF as Mackinac County / St. Ignace airport. Turning base for Runway 26, we quickly retuned AWOS and confirmed the light winds from 280. The 3501' x 75' runway at MCD slopes up from east to west, so we were landing uphill. Also, the runway undulates, but I could cope with that. In training, Erik had made a point to take me to numerous airports so I got exposure to different runway contours.

As usual, my approach was a bit high, so 30 degrees of flaps were used and we lightly kissed the runway just past the numbers, almost on the center line, and rolled smoothly to a stop. Following the directions of the UNICOM radio operator, we parked on the grass and off-loaded. Walking to the terminal, I saw a familiar sight. Aerostar 1111U from ARB was on the ramp. I love the Aerostars, they're like twin engine bullets. (Gotta get...) It was 1215.

We spent several hours on the island. Shopping, walking about and bicycling around the perimeter road. We did not take the taxi from, or to, the airport. Instead, island map in hand, we elected to walk. A grizzled old park employee at the airport gave us the insider tip about a shortcut through he trees that shaved at least half a mile from the walk each way.

When time came to depart we found that many planes had already left. We performed our pre-flight and run-up and departed on runway 26 shortly before 1800. Kelly had asked if we could fly around the island so she could take some photos. We climbed to pattern altitude and circled to the right so she would be on the inside. We were rewarded with superb scenery.

Our return plan was to stop for fuel at a nearby airport, and then head back to ARB. Although we might have been alright for fuel, I was more comfortable with having a good load on board. I ignored the fact that St. Ignace and Pellston had fuel and were stones throws from MCD and we headed for Cherry Capital airport.

Traverse City is our summer vacation area. We keep our boat there and spend a few weeks there each year. I had taken a summer class there in 2002 and had spent several afternoons sitting by the runway behind the college's aviation studies building while doing homework. While I studied, I had listened to the tower and ground frequencies and watched the steady flow of aircraft inbound and outbound. I dreamed of flying into and out of Cherry Capital airport. I would do so now. We flew southwest along the coast, seeing Beaver Island off our right side and passing over Lake Charlevoix and the Round Lake yacht basin. I wondered how many of the boaters on their expensive yachts were looking up at us in envy. We continued a bit west of TVC over the West Bay. We had a good view of the Manitou Islands just offshore from the Sleeping Bear Dunes. The picture on the right shows West Grand Traverse Bay, the south end of Lake Leelanau, Big & Little Glen Lakes, Alligator Hill, and Lake Michigan (editors note). I didn?t want a right hand pattern at TVC, since I do better with left patterns and wanted another good landing with Kelly. By flying west of the field, we assured a left downwind pattern entry for runway 36. Once cleared to enter the pattern, we flew right down the West Bay and paralleled Garfield Avenue until we turned left base. Winds here, too, were light. 20 degrees of flaps were used and we set down with another remarkably light landing. Switching to 121.8, we contacted ground and said we needed to take on some fuel. We were instructed to taxi to the GA parking area and follow the Harbour Air golf cart.

8UM's thirst satiated with 15 gallons per side, we called for taxi clearance with India. We were cleared via taxiway Charlie to runway 10 for an intersection departure. Although I had studied the taxi diagram, it all looked different from inside the cockpit and I had not anticipated an intersection departure. I taxied somewhat tentatively.

TVC Ground: (Pleasant Female Voice) "Cessna 8UM, continue straight ahead past the Falcon Jet on your left, pass taxiway Alpha to your right, straight on to runway 10"

Me: "Er, thanks. So, then, you could tell it's my first time flying to Cherry Capital, huh."

TVC Ground: "Ahh, you're doing fine there."

Me: "Thanks. I've got the wife beside me with the taxi diagram telling me where to go."

TVC Ground (Chuckling): "Oh! You'll be fine, then!"

Lift off came at 1915. Climbing, we turned south. I had planned to use the TVC and MOP VORs, but reconsidered. Time to try the autopilot. I programmed the GPS for 'Direct To' MOP. I told the autopilot to hold our altitude and to navigate based on the GPS. Too cool!

Lesson: A benefit of using the autopilot is that you can spend more time looking outside for conflicting traffic. Its also much less fatiguing on cross country flights.

We passed the time watching our progress on the GPS MFD, tracking our progress on the chart and spotting landmarks familiar to us from a lifetime of traveling about Michigan. Nearing Mt. Pleasant, I remembered that they often have parachuters. I called on the CTAF and announced our plan to over-fly the airport. A voice replied and said that they were climbing to 1-2-thousand for a drop. Not wanting to run afoul of any 'Body Bombs' or 'Mankind Missiles', I told the drop plane that I'd divert well to the west of the field to avoid conflicts. The voice thanked me, and announced that the parachuters were away. As we passed the field, we could see the canopies opening. We found the canopies beautiful, but they were probably more beautiful to the people suspended beneath them!

Another Lesson: Just because you don't need to talk to anyone, doesn't mean it isn't a good idea to key up. Communication is a good thing.

I re-keyed the GPS for 'Direct To' ARB. Lansing wasn?t too busy as we monitored the approach frequency. It was uneventful and the only traffic we dealt with was a Cirrus. (Have I said that I gotta get one of them, too?) The Cirrus passed us and crossed above and in front of us. The Approach Controller got a bit disgruntled on my initial call when I accidentally called him "Lansing Radio", rather than "Lansing Approach". I imagine he's gotten over it by now.

Before we knew it, we were back in familiar airspace. We spotted Livingston County, Howell's strip and then the dish at Peach Mountain, near Dexter. We considered a slow circle around Kelly's sister's house outside of Dexter, but elected not to due to increasing haze and decreasing visibility in the late-afternoon sun. ARB tower was closed, so we monitored ATIS for a few minutes to get a feeling of conditions. I announced our entry on a left downwind for runway 6. The God of Airmen smiled once again upon me and at 2030 I landed my third smooth landing of the day.

I was quietly ecstatic. This was what my flying lessons were all about; actually going on a trip; taking a day or two and traveling to places.

During training, Erik had told me that most members just fly around the local area and don't go anywhere. I don't want to be like that. I don't want my flying to consist of merely droning over familiar country, I want to see new places, or familiar places from a new perspective. My hope for this trip was that it'd be pleasant and memorably and that Kelly would enjoy it. She already wants a fall color trip to the Tawas area, so it must have worked.

Kelly's comfort was due as much to the superb equipment at the Flyers as it was my skills. Well, perhaps more the equipment, actually. She has pretty well prohibited me from flying [local competitor-Ed.] planes, and it is understandable. Aircraft with rust streaks on them don't instill much confidence. An FAA examiner from west of Ann Arbor once told me that he would refuse to do a check ride in an [local competitor-Ed.] plane, but would be proud to call a UM Flyers plane his own. My congratulations to Tom and Frank for their work.

To me, our club has always been about training and socializing with fellow pilots. More than that, though, I want the club to be my doorway to the excitement, the challenge and the freedom of flying to destinations, of actually going someplace in an airplane. This trip was the fulfillment of this goal, this dream, and has only whetted my appetite for more.

I strongly encourage all members to renew their passion for flight. Members who haven't flown for a while should get a refresher from their CFI and plan a trip. Take your spouse or significant other to dinner somewhere; take the kids to Cedar Point; take someone golfing; but more than anything, just take a plane and go somewhere!