A Coast to Coast Adventure

Two Weeks to Taxi Sportsman builder, Everett Mellish and Glasair’s Customer Assembly Center Manager, Ephraim Carter travel from Arlington, Washington to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida in February 2010 in search of some sun. Here are few notes from their trip.

Day 1

It was a little late in the day to leave but nevertheless the epic journey begins. Trekking from coast to coast in an amphibian Sportsman is one of my great dreams and I imagine most pilots would love to have the same opportunity.

After 5 hours testing the freshly installed clamar 2500s, we weigh and load all the necessities and cockpit snacks for the rare experience of seeing more of the United States than most will ever see.

Weather is a factor that can delay any cross-country trip, especially from the great wet northwest, so naturally marginal VFR is on the menu. But, ah, the comfort of having something floatable while flying out of the Puget Sound!

Venturing south towards Portland it’s decided that the “mighty Columbia river” on the Oregon side must be graced with a landing of “Splash”, appropriately named by owner Everett. This is to become mandatory for every state we encounter. We turn the corner into the Columbia Gorge and it’s not the typical windy chute, instead it’s an opportunity to enjoy the cliffs and waterfalls I’ve heard about.

Daylight and visibility direct us to a cool town in the gorge known for windsurfing and vineyards, called Hood River. The wind is calm; we lower the gear and call it a day.

Day 2

Morning delivers fog and low cloud layer, but there’s hope in the forecast, so we head for out for coffee and the airport. Since we are loaded to gross weight, we decide to head south to avoid crossing the Rockies at the waist and escape the typical winter storms of the northern route.

With the floats rigged for “off the water” performance, the full gross takeoff weight of 2500 pounds and 600 feet of elevation produced a 1000 foot roll with climb-out reaching 700 feet per minute at 85 knots. We climb to a cruise altitude of 8000 feet and note 115 knots true, with fuel burn at 11.6 gallons per hour.

The eastern side of the Cascades fades and the Sierra Nevada range comes into view. Tonapah looks like a good place to get fuel and stretch our legs, so we use 800 feet of the 7000 feet available.

Pressing on, we decide to get some dust off the floats, and dipping into both Nevada and Arizona sides of Lake Mead should do the trick. Way too cool! With sparkling clean floats in the full spectrum sunset, we land at Henderson airport in Las Vegas for the night.

Day 3

Typical Vegas morning this time of year, cool and calm, we set out for the Grand Canyon scenic route. This is my first encounter with the “big ditch” and I’m highly impressed with its “grandness”!

After the tourist session at 8000 feet over the canyon, the oncoming plateau has us climbing to 9000 feet — No problem. The next fuel stop is Grand Canyon Valle airport. American transportation history is well preserved here and our arms get twisted ever so slightly to check out the flying museum, which includes a Ford Trimotor, a Curtis Robin, and a few more notable aircraft I would love to fly. We have to pull ourselves away, knowing there are still hundreds of miles to cover before the sun falls behind us.

At 6000 feet elevation and fully loaded with fuel, we lift off in about 2800 feet of the available 4200. We hurdle the last remaining big rocks east of Albuquerque and look for a lake en-route to wash the plane with. We come across Lake Conchas in New Mexico, circle for the deep area, and splash onto the lightly rippled water. Reluctantly, Everett is left on the island with the camera to get some action video. The show starts with a gross weight, (minus Everett) take-off at 4300 feet elevation in roughly 23 seconds. After some fly-bys and showing off I get the signal to pick up the stranded videographer. It’s always fun to dock with the wind being less than helpful, there is now a fish swimming around with some expensive sunglasses. Remember folks, make things floatable with a floatplane! Everett is comfortably back in his seat with slightly wet shoes and we trudge on into the fading daylight looking for Childress, Texas.

Ten minutes after landing the fog drops in. I give the hotel a call to see if we can get a shuttle, and are told to call the sheriff, I’m not sure now if we should have landed here. I give them a call anyway and fortunately they offer up a courtesy car. Day three comes to an end.

Day 4

Unusual weather for Childress has delivered dense fog for us, so we go to the local coffee and donut shop. There we find Americana at its finest. The round table of friendly comedic buddies offer us a chance to find out a little about this place. One tells us “Childress is thirty minutes by phone from Amarillo.” I’m certain this is the place that is used for witness relocation, don’t tell anyone.

Finally, we get enough ceiling around noon and head out into the rising cloud layer. Milking out the range, we’re able to make it all the way into Louisiana at sunset. Clear skies entice us to continue on and make up some time, so with the stars above and the lights below the hum of the Lycoming IO-390 pulls us into Florida. We get treated to an ominous moon rise as we descend into Panama City for some much needed rest.

Day 5

Unfortunately the end of the odyssey nears. We cut across the gulf as much as possible and the missing breakfast starts to take its toll. Cedar Key is the only place along the way that looks like a chance for cuisine. The first actual “sea” landing is upon us. A smooth touchdown and slow taxi to the shore, we stop on the soft sand about thirty feet from the shore and the shoes come off. Into the gulf waters we go! A couple of cigar-toting guys welcome us to shore, compliment the plane and give us a ride to the nearest restaurant. A table with a view to the plane bobbing in the water makes me smile and pinch myself.

Back into the air with a full belly of energy, we move inland to view the endless wetlands and waterways. A quick dip into a fresh water lake to rinse off a little salt water and the sun sets hastily into the west.

We land at Boca Raton airport to a welcoming family. Happy we’ve made it! Yet sad it is over.

Flying over the wide open spaces that look so barren and uninhabitable somehow offer people a place to plant their roots, even in what most would consider, the middle of nowhere. As crowded as it may seem, there is still plenty of land out there to personally discover, and I think the Sportsman is an incredible way to get out and discover America.

Ephraim Carter and Everett Mellish

Arlington, Washington to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida 2010