More than two hours later, with my cell phone to my ear, I listened to an updated winds-aloft forecast as I strode back across the lawn to the plane. It was just as I had left it, seatbelt dangling out of the open door. The autumn sun was starting to get warm. So much for an early departure. After an abbreviated walk-around, all of the takeoff items were rechecked. The second engine run-up and mag check of the morning were just as smooth as the first. Finally, I advanced the throttle to full power. Less than five seconds later, I was flying.
The Rotax 912 ULS engine makes its full 100 hp. at the max allowable rpm of 5800, which is limited to five-minute “bursts”. The maximum continuous rpm of 5500 produces somewhat less power. In cruise flight, with my current prop setting, the engine turns at an easy 5200 to 5300 rpm, burning less than 5 gallons per hour. Thus configured, my 701 maintains an airspeed between 95 to 100 mph. (The tundra tires seem not to impose much of a speed penalty.)
The ground adjustable Warp Drive prop (carbon fiber, three-blade, 70 inch) was set to a cruise pitch of 13.5 degrees. Even so, the take-off and climb performance are nothing short of amazing. The take-off ground roll is just under 100 feet with a climb rate of 800 feet per minute while loaded with full fuel (24 gallons), eighty pounds of gear, and me.
I maintained the northerly runway heading for only a minute or two before making my initial turn to the southeast. Settling in for the first leg of the flight, I began taking care of various routine tasks. I pushed the direct-to button on my Garmin 396. When the identifier for my initial fuel stop was entered, the GPS unit instantly offered much more information than I would ever need. The heading I was looking for was superimposed over the moving map and I reflexively gave the center control stick a slight nudge. The left wing dipped a bit. I was turning in order to pass east of Oakland’s Class “C” airspace. After a ten-degree correction, I rolled out and as I passed through 1500 feet, I contacted Oakland Center to request flight-following radar services. The controller bid me “good morning” and gave me a squawk code and an altimeter setting. A minute later he came back with “radar contact” and confirmed my position and altitude. What a great service, I thought to myself as I listened to various airline crews and other pilots check in with the controller who would then guide them safely through his sector.
As I left the San Francisco Bay Area behind and headed southeast across California’s central valley, my GPS ground speed, when compared to the indicated air speed, showed that I had a 10 to 15 mph headwind. From Oakland Center I was handed off to Nor Cal Approach, then to Lamoore Approach (Naval Air Station), and finally to Bakersfield Approach. I had planned to land at a small, uncontrolled airfield called Shafter Minter (MIT). It was just north of Bakersfield. I hoped to get in, refuel and be on my way again with a minimum of fuss. The facilities at MIT were minimal but the four things I required were right there. Next to the fuel pump were a ladder, a trash can, and an outhouse. Fifteen minutes later I was back in the air.
. . . few minutes after the preflight, both my seatbelt and the master switch clicked, one after the other. The 100 horse engine, a Rotax 912 ULS, came to life effortlessly, followed by the avionics. Fifteen minutes later, with the engine warm, the run-up and the pre-takeoff items checked, I started to taxi. As I turned the plane toward the departure end of the runway, I caught a glimpse of someone waving at me. Unfortunately, it was a “stop & come here” sort of wave from one of our employees. I acknowledged him with a forced smile, shut down the engine and climbed out.
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