An Effective Congress near DC?
I was invited to Alexandria, VA to participate in a panel discussion at a scientific conference. My role was to provide unscripted remarks in response to the moderator's questions. Because the prior speaker, also a panelist, ran far over his time, the moderator directed most of the questions to me. I think this was her way of making my trip to Alexandria worthwhile. Overall, it was a great conference, I learned some valuable information, and I was fortunate to catch up with some old friends and colleagues that I do not see often because they live in exotic places like New Jersey or Copenhagen, Denmark.
When Getting There (and Back) is Half the Fun
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| Somewhere over Pennsylvania. |
After a morning of flying rides in N32816 at the Williamson Flying Club pancake breakfast, I enjoyed a beautiful flight to our nation's capital in Warrior 481 on the afternoon of Sunday, May 17. She waited patiently for me at the College Park Airport (KCGS) during the conference, just a Metro ride away on the north side of the Washington DC metroplex. College Park lies within the Washington DC Flight Restricted Zone (FRZ or "freeze") created in response to the events of 9/11. As this was my fourth excursion into the FRZ, the procedure was now comfortable and familiar ("Into the Flight Restricted Zone | Part 1, Of PINs and Prop Locks").
My original goal was to depart the final afternoon of the conference a little early and explore the reimagined exhibits at the Smithsonian National Air & Space Museum that opened since I was last there with Kristy and The Bear in 2025 ("A Bear's Adventures in the Flight Restricted Zone").
However, the weather forecast painted a dire picture for Tuesday evening with thunderstorms and potential tornados along the route. The Rochester area expected a pummeling from 30 knot winds. I've handily managed 30 knot winds at airports set in open fields, but I treat my home airport with caution in high winds because it is surrounded by a canyon of trees that spawn brutal rotors under those conditions.
Though I still departed the conference early, I headed straight home to ensure beating the weather. Air & Space would have to wait for the next trip.
Loosey Goosey
| Date | Aircraft | Route of Flight | Time (hrs) | Total (hrs) |
| 19 May 2026 | N21481 | CGS (College Park, MD) - SDC (Sodus, NY) | 2.6 | 3153.4 |
To recap, departure from the FRZ requires two steps that differ from ordinary IFR flights. First, a phone call to Washington Center is needed to file a FRZ flight plan using the old FAA format (not ICAO). Electronic filing is not permitted at all. Permission to file that flight plan is granted by providing a PIN that personally identifies the pilot as vetted for flight in the national security airspace of the FRZ. No PIN, no flight plan and, without a FRZ flight plan, there is no flying in the FRZ.
Second, at departure time, a phone call to Potomac Approach is necessary to receive clearance and the transponder code required at all times while airborne in the FRZ and the surrounding Special Flight Rules Area (SFRA or "sifra").
I learned on my first visit to College Park that a direct IFR route to Sodus would not be approved; an airway route was necessary. Through trial and error, I settled on a consistent route between College Park and Sodus: BELTS V265 HAR T445 BEEPS.
Despite the zig-zagging path of airways T445 and V265, this route nonetheless approximates flying direct closely enough that it does not add significant distance or time to the journey. Best of all, it has generally worked bidirectionally, though Potomac Approach has modified the southern end of it in the past.
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| My favorite route between Sodus (SDC, top) and College Park (CGS, bottom). |
With beads of sweat trickling down from my hairline, I made the phone call to Potomac from the cockpit of Warrior 481 while stewing in the unseasonable warmth that had enveloped College Park, MD.
"Warrior 481, I need to put you on a preferred route. Advise ready to copy." This was Potomac's way of telling me that I would not get the route home that I filed. "You are cleared to Sierra Delta Charlie airport via radar vectors, KRANT, V265, Harrisburg (HAR), then as filed..."
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| ForeFlight depiction of my filed route home starting at BELTS. |
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| ForeFlight depiction of the cleared route home starting at KRANT. |
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| A zoomed-in view of the FRZ showing where KRANT is located versus Washington DC. |
For context, KRANT is only 2.5 miles from the US Capitol building. It is also the southern terminus of the Victor 265 airway and roughly five miles southwest of College Park. Reaching KRANT from College Park would require a turn in the wrong direction on take off, a left turn toward downtown Washington DC instead of a right turn toward home. I have been assigned KRANT while inbound before and, while the photographic opportunities from that point in space are intriguing, I do not realistically believe that I will ever actually fly so close to the inner sanctum within the FRZ.
The controller at Potomac continued. "Which runway are you departing?"
"Three three," I responded.
"Oh, that's perfect!" he said. "On departure from 33, go ahead and turn right to go northbound toward BELTS." He paused for a moment to think. "Oh, I suppose that's basically what you filed, isn't it? Well, go ahead and just do that."
Go ahead and just do that? That seemed like a rather loose instruction for navigating the most critical national security airspace in the United States.
I suggested to him that I could depart VFR to avoid managing IFR release and void times, which he approved. After ending the call, I started the Warrior's engine, added both KRANT and BELTS to the flight plan in the Garmin 650 (just in case), programmed the squawk code into the transponder, double checked that squawk code, then checked the squawk code again. If there was any major mistake that I could make on departure in the FRZ, squawking the wrong code was it. Satisfied that I was ready to go, I taxied to the end of runway 33.
On departure, I was pointed directly at a large construction crane at the University of Maryland. Considering the high heat (90+ °F in May), the not incredibly long runway, and tall trees with an even taller crane off the end of the runway, I treated the departure as a short field high performance take off. Once assured that I was going to clear the construction crane with ease, I eased the flaps out and contacted Potomac while still flying runway heading.
"Warrior 481, radar contact. Turn direct KRANT."
Really!? OK. So much for "just go[ing] ahead" and turning north toward BELTS.
I started a left turn, programmed the navigator to go direct to KRANT, and pointed the nose of Warrior 481 right at the National Mall. My camera was sitting on the passenger seat, all set to go. But it was not to be. Within moments of rolling onto a direct course to KRANT, Potomac called again.
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| ForeFlight ground track showing the departure from College Park. |
"Ah, November 481, go ahead and fly heading 010 toward BELTS." This was 180° in the opposite direction, but would point me toward home. Happy that I programmed both KRANT and BELTS into the navigator, I switched the active waypoint to BELTS, and rolled into a left turn to the north.
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| Google Earth rendering of my flight path out of College Park. |
Effectively, I did a midair pirouette directly above the University of Maryland's SECU Stadium. From just 1,400 feet, that stadium looked absolutely enormous and I wondered how many eyebrows down below were raised by the maneuver. From that point on, the rest of the flight went as planned. Outbound, I gradually exited the tightly controlled airspace, first the FRZ, then the SFRA, then the Bravo. I hand flew the first part of the route and let HAL fly the rest. I had a beautiful flight home.
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| Passing a cumulus cloud en route home. |
I accumulated about 0.4 hours of time in the clouds and though my route skirted a thunderstorm system to the west, I avoided any inclement weather. In that regard, I made the right choice in departing early. Unfortunately, the severe weather expected at my original arrival time arrived two hours late. I could have visited Air & Space after all. But it is hard to fault a decision that got me home safely.
Although I log every flight electronically, I still appreciate the tactile experience of scrawling entries into a paper logbook (I just started my fourth). To me, a flight is not complete until I have put pen to paper, a consistent ritual since my student days 25 years ago. For this flight, I tried to capture the loosey goosey routing out of College Park in a concise comment.
"KRANT, not KRANT, KRANT, not KRANT." That seemed to sum it up pretty well.
Lesson Learned
Clearly, coordination between the Potomac flight data guy who provided my clearance over the phone and the Potomac Approach controller working my departure was imperfect. I think I managed that situation well by setting up my navigator to be ready for either KRANT or BELTS. I was genuinely surprised not to receive more exacting instructions while inside such sensitive airspace.
I have been assigned KRANT more than once while inbound, but have yet to actually cross it. On reflection, I don't think that crossing KRANT has ever been ATC's intent. Whether I am inbound or outbound, by including KRANT in the clearance, ATC is giving themselves flexibility to have me join (outbound) or depart (inbound) Victor 265 anywhere along that segment between KRANT and BELTS; wherever it best suits them.
The idea of navigating toward a waypoint without ever intending to cross it is a paradigm shift for me and changes the way that I think about IFR navigation in the National Airspace System. That is my primary takeaway from this experience.
Going forward, I will swap BELTS for KRANT in my filed IFR flight plans to and from College Park, even though I'm pretty certain that I will never actually get there.
