The fly-in, fly-out eclipse-viewing idea (previous post) ended up working reasonably well. Here are some lessons learned from our August 21, 2017 trip…
For viewing the eclipse per se, Celestron EclipSmart 10×42 binoculars were amazing during the partial phase. I lent them out to kids from age 5 up and they just loved them, as did their parents. (Kids were also great at finding the sun through the binoculars, something that eluded most adults, including me!) Totality was enhanced with Zeiss 8×42 Victory binoculars. A camping pad and pillow were helpful for comfortable viewing, though probably tripod-mounted binoculars would be better and, of course, a telescope with equatorial mount is the gold standard (Charles Edward Marsden, an amateur astronomer visiting KSRB (see below), was kind enough to let us look through his rig during the partial phases).
On to the aviation stuff…
Round-the-world hero pilot Matt Guthmiller took his Bonanza down to Tennessee, dropped a passenger, and then treated himself and four passengers to the view from 11,500′ with 24 additional seconds of totality. His advice is to fly as high as practical: “Less traffic, less worry about clouds, above 10,000 MSL with TCAS and talking to approach don’t have to worry as much about everybody else doing the same thing.” The dropped-off passenger was David Spiegel (Instagram: d_spiegel), who made this photo from the ground:
How about using an aircraft to skip out on the $2,000/night motels and traffic jams but still view from the ground? Except maybe for airports close to California, it is virtually impossible to max out an airport’s capacity for parking. Airports with multiple runways occupy so much area that, as long as you’re willing to park on the grass, there is always space. We landed at one of a handful of idiot-proof airports (long runway; precision approaches) within the clearest forecast band in the eastern half of the U.S. Ramp space was by reservation and did fill up a week in advance, but pilots of singles and light twins were invited to park in the grass on the other side of the runway “at their discretion” via a recording on the ASOS.
We started planning on July 12, using a Google Doc (shared in case it is helpful or interesting). We got serious around August 10 when weather forecasts first began to cover August 21 and then contacted a bunch more airports on August 15. We made the near-final “where to go decision” after 8 pm Eastern the night before (new aviation weather comes out at 0Z, 6Z, 12Z, and 18Z; the cloud forecasts are at 3-hour intervals) and confirmed the next morning. We started out thinking that Clarksville, TN would be the likely destination, then shifted to South Carolina (a little closer to us), then shifted back towards eastern Tennessee.
In retrospect, none of this would have been necessary in a four-seat or six-seat airplane. A pilot willing to land on a 3000′ runway would find a huge selection of airports within any weather band. For a jet that needs to stay on pavement or a plane that takes up a lot of space, such as the Pilatus PC-12, it does make sense to make reservations. None of our friends with light airplanes had any trouble landing last-minute in South Carolina or Tennessee.
KSRB in Sparta, Tennessee provided a near-textbook example of how to run one of these events. They sold ramp space with non-refundable deposits. They invited the public to drive in and view from a field next to the ramp. Airport management set up porta potties, brought in a DJ and a food truck, etc. PAX and crew who arrived airside were given wristbands that allowed them to transition freely between the public area and the ramp, packed with about 130 transient aircraft, moving tugs, a medevac Airbus H135 that went in and out a few times, etc. Folks who drove in had to stay off the ramp. We met a lot of quasi-local pilots as well as airborne families from Texas, Florida, and New York.
The airport added a huge complement of extra staff to drive “follow me” trucks, operate tugs, and pump fuel. We were parked and fueled within about 15 minutes after landing. The only thing that the airport could have done differently is ban APUs. It probably didn’t occur to the management that a NetJets Challenger (N726QS) and a G450 crew (N888XY; SexyJet), parked directly in front of the invited public, would run their APUs (crazy noisy small jet engines in the tail, used to generate electricity and run A/C when parked, then used to start the main engines) for hours. “What assholes,” commented one light aircraft pilot. “Douchebags,” said another. I figured “well, maybe the passengers are making them do this,” but then found that the NetJets customers had deplaned and were in lawn chairs near the terminal with their Havanese dog. In other words, the NetJets crew was running the APU for themselves. (The privately owned jets did not abuse their neighbors or the public in this manner. For example, a huge Falcon 900 (N874VT) showed up (loud!) taxied in, and did a complete and immediate shutdown once on the ramp.)
We were able to escape the noise inferno created by NetJets and SexyJet by walking about 1/2 mile to the piston side of the ramp, but the general public did not have this option: “The taxpaying citizens behind the fence are the actual owners of the airport,” said one pilot. “It is like NetJets coming into your house and pissing on the floor.” [Update: A friend who owns an FBO read the above and said “Those NetJets guys do that all the time. They run the APU for hours. They don’t care.” Note that NetJets is owned by Warren Buffet.]
Landing was a little scary for pilots accustomed to busy towered airports or sleepy nontowered airports. The volume of landing traffic in the three hours prior to the eclipse was at times similar to the busiest towered U.S. airports, but with pilots responsible to figure out who else was in the pattern. This on a UNICOM frequency shared with other nearby (and busy) airports. There was a mix of jets with pro crews, experimental (home-built) taildraggers, and boring family airplanes. What kept this reasonably safe is that the airport managers broadcast a “please use Runway 4” on the ASOS. That kept everyone landing in the same direction. And then there are a lot of conventions for traffic patterns published in the FAA’s Aeronautical Information Manual, which every student pilot reads carefully.
NetJets and SexyJet shut down their APUs during totality, which enabled everyone to hear the crowd cheering. For the true Zen experience it would probably be worth trying to get to a wilderness area (in the U.S., anything more than a 1-mile walk from a road!), but I enjoyed being with enthusiastic people and, especially, so many children who were awestruck.
After totality ended, pilots literally fled. The first airplane departed just a few seconds after totality ended. I.e., they had started up before the end of totality. Two more were waiting. There were departures every 30 seconds during the partial eclipse that followed totality. We waited until the end of the eclipse, waited behind three other airplanes, and departed without any conflicts with other aircraft. The airport positioned a couple of spotters near the runway to call out on the radio that they were not observing any landing traffic. (Only an FAA tower controller can clear an aircraft for takeoff so these guys were providing information to pilots, not instructions.)
The FAA did not seem to have prepared in any way for the high traffic. Single controllers were working multiple frequencies, just as on an ordinary weekday. On arrival we were pressured to cancel IFR about 80 miles from the airport and, on the way out, were unable to get VFR advisories until more than 200 miles northeast.
Summary: Whenever a solar eclipse comes through the U.S., viewing is as easy as checking the weather a couple of days in advance and turning the key on a Cessna, Cirrus, or Piper. Not a pilot yet? You have nearly seven years to get your certificate before the April 8, 2024 eclipse. If the weather is clear this will be awesome for folks in the Northeast. The moon’s shadow goes right over Niagara Falls, Burlington, Vermont, and Moosehead Lake in Maine. One idea: Plattsburgh.
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