viewfromright

Ditto!

We have started planning for next year, I believe the bookings for the University accommodation open in late July this year...

http://www.eaa.org/news/2013/2013-04-16_final-push-for-bugatti-100P-racer.asp

Well done Mr H.... For those of us that couldn't make it - thanks.

Hi Captain Absolutely great pictures, thanks for posting!!!! Can you ask some there to turn on the web cam................. http://www.natfly.com.au/webcam/ as it is still showing " "Natfly Temora Airport 2012 Looking to the North"

My condolences to Wayne's family and friends. Yes Nev, a very accomplished pilot. He will be missed in this part of of the world!

Very professional video - well done! P.S. Good luck with the PPL......

OOps typo....

A group of us are flying "up north" this winter and high on our "wish list" is Broome. And as we all know Broome is a CTA. Does any one out there have any suggestions as to landing areas close to Broome that are RAA friendly. Thanks in advance ! John

Still raining with 102mm in the last 24 hours!

My engine has a good compression feel when turned over cold, but is stiff to turn over when hot, and hard to pick up the compression cycles.

Not good news this morning! http://www.abc.net.au/news/2011-08-18/abc-helicopter-crashes-at-lake-eyre/2845962

CFI i found some old background on the information network - http://www.skybrary.aero/bookshelf/books/1132.pdf

With a couple of week’s holiday due, we took the opportunity to extend our Natfly experience and tour the Murray River – from the air! After a very soggy weekend the weather finally cleared enough for us to head south from Lismore, so skirting the Evans Head bombing range and over the Clarence River delta we continue past Grafton towards Coffs Harbour. The weather gods are still not happy to see us clear and away as the valley we’re heading for turns grey and wet - so a judicious turn around and head back to the delightful South Grafton airstrip was called for. A great little club - hot coffee and warm hospitality, sunshine and a few yarns on the verandah. After an hour we are up and away again, this time with a clear run through the valley and over that nasty little ridge to the west of Coffs controlled airspace - there really needs to be an ultralite corridor established through there! Once past Coffs Harbour a clear run along the coast - weather to the west looking not too cheerful, but scattered cloud on our route. A great coastal flight with beautiful beaches and headlands - Nambucca, Southwest Rocks and Crescent Head. Getting bumpy up there now so time to track into Port Macquarie for the night. Thanks to the good folk at the tourist bureau we find a motel room (err - didn’t realise it was school holidays did we) and at the end of the day a magnificent sunset - just what the shepherds were looking for. We ask our taxi driver - busy weekend coming up? Dunno, only been a driver for two weeks, but you gotta watch the Thursday night bingo ladies. Up and away early the next morning - perfect weather for the day’s adventure - down to Taree then up the Manning valley, past my old home town Wingham and the landmarks that seem to have shrunk since I lived there. Following the railway line - there’s Mt George - and into the Williamstown ultralite corridor that my pilot has long had a hankering to fly. Weather perfectly still - no rotors, downdrafts or other nasties as we wend our way up to Gloucester. Barrington Tops looming off to our right and still some fog below, but nothing too serious. This would have to be one of the most delightful flight paths for the keen aviator - but make sure your instructor doesn’t set it for your next navex as it twists and turns its way up the valley. I Fly Railways - towards Dungog - ah, beat the train though. Into the Hunter Valley - over Maitland with the sand-hills of Stockton standing out on the coast and then a right turn up the Hunter. Huge open cut mines rubbing shoulders with fancy horse farms and vineyards - the green and the grey - then on the horizon the four steam plumes of the Liddell Power Station. With the ground slowly coming up to meet us this is a great way to get across the divide - those early railway surveyors knew what they were doing! The Hunter slowly winds its way down (or up for us) through the ranges, like a glacial braided river on its longer reaches, and then we are on top and over and wondering just which one of those ridges was the dividing line. Then down into Mudgee for fuel and a coffee break at the Aeroclub - thanks for the self-service and a chance to relax in comfort before our next leg. Out of Mudgee and set the heading for Orange, south west along the Western Slopes. Autumn making its presence felt at Orange with the trees peppering the town with …. orange … and red. South of Orange we pass the huge Cadia Hill copper mine, then with the hills slowly falling away to the east, we track a little more westward towards Wagga following the Olympic Way - I Fly Roads. Young, Cootamundra, and the smoke begins as the first of the stubble burn-offs appears. We can see the flames flare behind the ute as it drives around the edge of the paddock - very controlled burns here, just one square at a time. Then Junee and the 20 mile call for Wagga. But Rex and Jetstar, are hot on each other’s tails, heading in on 23, and another VH calls at 10 miles - we’ll both wait for those guys, do a couple of 360’s, then VH calls in to approach on 05 - so which is the duty runway? Turns out the RPT guys like to do it that way, but tricky if you don’t know and are listening out before you make your final check overhead! So we come in on 05, all fine for refuelling and tie down - this has been the longest day’s flying for me yet, so am feeling pretty pleased with our efforts! Feels good to stretch out though. It’s all go at Forest Hill these days - the RAAF still train their apprentices there, just like they have for the last 60 or more years, but now Rex have a pilot training facility, and service their fleet there as well, on top of the eight or so flights to Sydney and Melbourne. Forest Hill is 10km out of Wagga Wagga - so if you are flying in for the night, or longer, it makes sense to hire a small car, but the country taxi drivers are easy going and give you a running commentary on the trip into town. We have made contact with the “Captain” who has organised some accommodation for us. We catch up again that night over dinner, followed by a tour of Wagga by night. Thanks so much to you both for your wonderful hospitality. The next morning’s weather check is not good - could that be thunder I am hearing over breakfast and the radar shows a line of rain heading for Wagga. So we wait for it to clear, but it continues to be grey and grim, especially to the North and Temora. We had plans to fly down to Holbrook, so instead hire a car and drive. Take a few of the side roads for a trip through the countryside, looking its best after the summer rains. Lunch at Holbrook, then drive out to the airstrip looking for the museum we know should be there - somewhere. Drive round and round - lots of hangers, the odd cottage, but no museum. The pilot finally spots someone in the training office. Turns out they are still on track, but bureaucracy has held them up. However tucked away in the hangars is an incredible collection of recreational flying history, in excellent condition. More country hospitality with a sneak preview of the aircraft that will be the museum’s foundation exhibits. With the showers continuing we decide to drive to Temora and fly in as soon as the weather clears. It’s already getting busy when we arrive, but grey and soggy - where has our sunshine gone! Thursday morning looms out of the fog - visibility about 50 feet - so a chance for a lazy morning for the navigator. My pilot drives away into the mist, back to Wagga to wait for the weather to lift. Takes a while, but at last I spot what must be our Jab - then we catch up an hour later, the talkfest has already begun! Plenty of forums to pick from, including a couple for the navigator - we do appreciate the chance to see things from our side of the flight deck. “A second set of eyes” has empowered me to join the preflight, keep a closer check on the map, Ersa and instruments, practice plane spotting, listen to the calls and take note of what is going on over the airways and generally know what is normal (or not). And to speak up when it looks or sounds odd - for it is better to say something daft, than to miss something critical. The “Partners of Pilots Emergency” talk is inspiring - and fun. Jill gives an attentive group the basics of aeronautics, what the instruments tell us, and what you can do if your pilot becomes incapacitated. Best response of the day: Jill “So when we talk on the radio, who are we speaking to?” Answer (to general hilarity) “Roger!” But seriously, how to call for help, how to identify your plane using the transponder, how to advise where you are from the GPS readings, and what information is critical in an emergency. I also take a lot more notice now of how my pilot lands - and he appreciates my interest in what is going on. As Jill says - your landing might not be pretty, but you now know how to get help to get down should the need arise. The next step is to do the full POPE course, and learn how to land, from the right hand seat, with all three of us intact! Natfly is fun and well organised – lots of forums, display stands, planes to look at, engines to compare, stories to tell. My pilot pines for the Carbon Cub SS - I suggest we start buying lotto tickets. We enjoy the flying exhibitions that showcase the developments in ultralite aviation, and of course the daring aerobatics. As the weather improves, the numbers grow, but it never feels too crowded. The Temora location, and the availability of so many hangers, generously lent by the airpark residents, ensures there is plenty of space for everyone to enjoy the weekend. I take the opportunity to visit the Aviation museum and am awed by the collection of planes on display, and the fact that they are all still flown on a regular basis. Also on display in the campground, and still plying the roads, were the buses belonging to members of the Australian “Flexible Clipper Club” out for their annual gathering, including an original Ansett Roadways imported by Sir Reginald back in 1947, still licensed to carry passengers. By Sunday the weather is perfect for flying - thanks “Follow Me” and Traffic Control for making the departure easy - and we track south west over the Murrumbidgee, the paddocks below forming a patchwork of multihued rectangles and circles. Lots of ultralite traffic on 126.7 as they disperse across the country. Smooth flying in the morning air, the Snowy Mountains away to our left and plenty of ground water from the rains earlier this year. Then Lake Mulwala on the Murray River, the dead trees standing like sentinels in the water, a quick hop over and into Yarrawonga for refuelling. From Yarrawonga we plan to fly along the Murray - I Fly Rivers. The Murray River is at its best, twisting through the River Gum forests, the billabongs full, and swamps reflecting the sunshine. Until seen from the air it is hard to fathom just how many bends there are! Lots of campers on the river beaches and boaters out enjoying their Easter break. Close to the river the paddocks are green, but away in the distance they soon lose their lushness. We take a shortcut, bypass Echuca, then re-join the river at Barham - ooh, need to swap to the Adelaide map! With the day warming up its time to leave the bumps behind so call 20 miles from Swan Hill to finish the day’s flying. What do you do on Sunday afternoon in Swan Hill, we ask our taxi driver - well of course you visit the historic village - beautifully re-created on the banks of the Murray. A perfect way to pass an afternoon, strolling around the township, old machinery and mallee busters, shops selling the best that 1900 had to offer, school house, church, hall, post and newspaper. No hustle or bustle, just a ride in the horse cart with Harry pulling us along, and a couple of kids with a fascination for … animal poo … oh no, Harry’s walking in it… oh, look at the goat … oh no Harry, not again! A hundred years away from our flying holiday. But the Murray calls and Monday morning sees us heading north-west to Robinvale. The Swan Hill vineyards show their best autumn colours as we turn down-river. The scale of agriculture here is intense, and through it all the river winds its lazy way, marking the NSW-Victoria border with a band of green. Perfect flying weather this morning and as we come into the Mildura district we spot the first of the magnificent Murray River cliffs. We are now on a mission - coming up fast is the junction of the Murray and the Darling at Wentworth, and there it is, the Darling slinks around a corner, dull and khaki coloured and joins the mighty broad Murray, the two sets of water not mixing yet, and it is some kilometres downstream before the colours merge. We follow the river until it heads north (again) then cut the corner across to Renmark. The South Australian border stands out as a line between red paddocks and green mallee. Down there, is a fence marking the change, but up here, it is even more distinct until the line merges with the horizon. The river has turned south (again) and looks like a perm gone wrong on the GPS. Intense agriculture with citrus groves in abundance, for Berri is just down the road. Then we are into Renmark and time for refuelling. Looking pretty deserted here and Dad who looks after the bowser is out till 12:30 so my pilot goes to see if anyone is at home in the hangars. Our luck is in, and the helpful owner of a local plane shows us how to access and pay for our fuel. Then he is off for the Anzac Day Service and we are clear for our departure to Goolwa. Again we give our thanks to country hospitality and aviation goodwill. The morning is nearly over by the time we leave, so we opt to cut another corner - a luxury the river boats never considered possible - and set our heading for Murray Bridge. Ancient sandhills are in evidence with the different vegetation colours marking the ridges and valleys, and away from the river the country looks tough, but Murray Bridge is soon on our nose and the country begins to soften. Plenty of radio calls for Murray Bridge and Strathalbyn, but our final destination is Goolwa on the Southern Ocean coast. As we turn on finals the ocean looks calm, the wave sets are rolling in and it looks like great weather for a day at the beach. Goolwa airstrip is well set up with plenty of hangar space, aeroclub, skydiving and four flavours of fuel. With the help of the groundsman we refuel, arrange to tie down for a couple of nights, hire a car and within an hour are on our way into town. Goolwa is packed with day trippers from Adelaide but we find a good coffee shop away from the crowd before exploring the old harbour town, pause for a few minutes reflection at the war memorial, then take a short drive to Hindmarsh Island to see the Murray Mouth up close. On Tuesday morning we set off for a trip around the Fleurieu Peninsula - Victor Harbour, down to Cape Jervis, past the wind farm, and along the western coast of the peninsula, through the vineyards, splendid in their autumn colours and into McLaren Vale for lunch. South again to Mount Compass, ooh, can I have a pet Llama… and back to Goolwa. The days are flying by and it’s time to head for home and what better way to start than a cruise along the Coorong - so Wednesday morning we set a south-east heading for Kingston. We soon spot the first of the barrages and then the Murray River ends its journey as it flows through Lake Alexandrina and into the Southern Ocean. The Coorong continues for nearly 100 kilometres along the coast - a narrow band of sandhills separating the lagoon from the sea. As we fly along it gets shallower before finally merging into a series of pools then vanishing completely. Turning east we leave the coast behind, then over the sand hill ranges and there’s that borderline again. The country looks green after this year’s rain, though The Little Desert to our north looks imposing and desolate, but as we approach Horsham the farmland cuts in again and the flying seems smoother. Horsham is another great little country airstrip with a card-swipe bowser and a small terminal with complimentary tea and coffee and a gas heater that was built to take sixpences. So thank you Horsham Council for your hospitality. Refuelled and refreshed we head east for Shepparton. The GPS shows a splattering of country airstrips. This part of Victoria is well set up for aviation and I count 19 airstrips on the GPS screen. The burn-offs are happening again. One paddock looks like a paint job for a zebra and one large one is reflecting its smoke cloud in Lake Cooper, and neither of them helps the visibility. The potholes in the sky are making themselves felt again so it’s into Shepparton for the night. We refuel and on my way to pay pass a group of senior school students studying BAK theory - that’s interesting, I comment to the confident young instructor as she scans the credit card - and it turns out it’s only about a quarter of the group (school holidays) who are studying for their PPL as a VET subject while they are still at school. What a wonderful opportunity - and all those local airstrips to practice their landings and navex’s! Thursday morning, and we turn North East, over our old friend the Murray and into a 35 knot headwind. What a difference that makes to the groundspeed as we beat our way along! Quite a bit of cloud over to the east and a VFR over Mudgee flying IFR worried about getting through the cloud - can anyone tell him the ceiling, his mate says it’s all ok at Cowra but it’s not good here. At last he finds a hole and is through, but it’s an interesting lesson in weather wisdom, and why radio calls should be kept succinct, with much of the transmission lost in overcalling, and much of it repeating what has already been said. He was happy to land safely, and so were we when we finally made it into Parkes. Quick dash to the terminal, and I’ll be back to help get the gear. In Parkes we again check the BOM site for our home town weather, and it is raining more than ever - it hasn’t stopped all week, so are glad to be west of the range enjoying the sunshine. It’s still looking good for Sunday so Friday morning we are away early and tracking north for Moree. It’s a glorious morning - all the cloud has cleared and any headwind vanishes as we gain height. Just north of Parkes we spot “The Dish,” then past Peak Hill and its gold mine, and a crop circle half harvested that HG Wells would die for, Narromine, over the Castlereagh River and while the Warrumbungles make themselves felt as they slip by on our right, soon the air is smooth and clear. Now the wind is with us and what a difference that makes! The grey haze of The Pilliga looms ahead, like a vast green inland sea - there be tigers - but The Pilot has it mapped and we carefully pick our way through the clear central channel. As we pass over Wee Waa there’s Mt Kaputar poking its nose above the grey, brown, black patchwork of the cotton fields that are getting larger with each mile. All too soon we are on approach to Moree - just one crop duster in the circuit, calling the same arrival time as us, but he has local knowledge on his side and with the variable wind slips in on the cross runway as we come in to land on 19. We get a lift into town with a local Jabiru owner, he is off to Glenn Innes for the weekend for the Celtic Festival, but we have our sights set on a day’s R&R before we head back to work next week. Moree’s major attraction is the mineral rich hot artesian pool that is a perfect way to relax and revitalise in total luxury. With the town now free of the lumbering road trains that have for so long tyrannised the main street there is a revitalised café scene and a sense of relief down Balo Street. And so we “take the waters” on the last days of our holiday. The weather check on Saturday night has the high finally starting to ease its easterly stream so we are optimistic for a clear run through to the coast on Sunday morning. It looks good at Moree, calm and clear, with an estimated flight time of two hours. This is our home turf, more or less, and we count down the land marks as we head east. Past the neatly lined up cotton bails outside Moree, the wide flat cotton fields and then gradually the country starts to get crinkly. A few Charlie Bravos down on the coast, but our little gap in the range looks good. Over the Gwydir River, in full flow, then the Dumaresq, the ground coming up to meet us again as we work our way down the Bruxner Highway. There’s Tenterfield away to our right and the mountain view is amazing in the clear air. Not a cloud between us and the coast. We spy Mount Lindsay and the Border Ranges, then we are over Drake, Tabulam and the headwaters of the Clarence River. Over the Richmond Range and into the Richmond Valley - Mount Warning on the horizon and the hills of home. Suddenly it’s busy again, the Sunday traffic is out and about, Ballina, Evans Head, Casino and Rex is on his way out of Lismore. Our last turn on final, bit of a crosswind into Lismore but The Pilot manages it with ease and we are back home. One last refuel, unload, wash the plane down and into town for coffee and reflection on how fortunate we are to have opportunity to take time to fly around this corner of our country. To use the facilities that are available for aviation, to enjoy the hospitality shown to us along the way and to marvel at the grandeur of it all. Louise - from the right seat

Hi Josh Good to see you back on the forum, but must admit your post leaves me asking more questions than answers. Would it not have been a better idea to bite the bullet, brush up on your theory and invest in a couple of hours refresher training before attempting your BFR, knowing that you were out of practice, and with the chance that you may not pass?

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