North to Ottawa | Part 1, With a Little Help from Kingston Radio

Just A Stone's Throw Away

Satellite photo of the Rockliffe Airport (CYRO). Image from Google.

In 1920, the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) established Ottawa Air Station directly on the Ottawa River at the outskirts of the Canadian capital. Military flight activity ceased in 1964 and the field eventually transitioned to civil use as the Rockliffe Airport. Since then, the former airbase has seen its runways either truncated (9-27), deleted (15-33), or transformed into taxiways (4-22). Today, it is home to the Canada Aviation and Space Museum (CASM, part of the broader Ingenium collection of museums in Ottawa) housed within a 1988 facility built along former runway 22 (taxiway D). The museum is consolidated from three separate aircraft collections: the National Aviation Museum that was focused on bush flying and early Canadian aircraft manufacturers, the Canadian War Museum's collection of World War I to Cold War military aircraft that included a number of rare war trophies from European conflicts, and the RCAF collection from Rockliffe focused on aircraft that flew in defense of Canada. Because it is located directly on a public use airport, CASM welcomes fly-in visitors.

Drawn by an impressive collection of rare and unusual aircraft, I planned a flight to Ottawa/Rockliffe in 2023. This was not a simple jaunt in the Warrior. Additional challenges to making this trip included operating across the international border, managing Canadian aeronautical procedures that differ slightly from those of the United States, smoke from Canadian wildfires during the summer, and long stretches of rain in the fall. I ultimately settled on October 19 to make the flight. By choosing this date, it meant that I flew to the capitals of two nations to visit their respective national air museums within two weeks of each other. It was an interesting, if not entirely premeditated, accomplishment.

Planning

Advance tickets are recommended for the CASM, so I purchased an 11:00 am ticket. My entire itinerary for the day was built around this ticket time:

• Depart Sodus at 8:45 am and fly IFR to Canada around the east end of Lake Ontario. 
• Clear Canadian customs in Kingston, Ontario (CYGK) at 9:40 am. Kingston is just across the border on the northeast corner of Lake Ontario and west of the mouth of the St Lawrence River. 
• Depart Kingston IFR by 10:15 am for an 11:00 am arrival at Rockliffe (CYRO).
• Depart Rockliffe IFR by 3:00 pm for home.
• Clear customs in Ogdensburg, NY (KOGS) around 3:41 pm.
• Proceed home to Sodus VFR.

Preparations for this trip the night before included:

• Flight planning to time-out each of the four legs of the planned round trip as well as verification of customs hours (Kingston, 9:00 am to 4:00 pm M-F, Ogdensburg, 8:00 am to midnight every day).
• Filing three IFR flight plans (KSDC to CYGK, CYGK to CYRO, and CYRO to KOGS). I planned to fly home VFR to Sodus at the end of the day and did not file anything for the KOGS to KSDC leg. 
• Completing and submitting the necessary outgoing and incoming eAPIS (Electronic Advance Passenger Information System) manifests required by US Customs and Border Protection.
• Calling customs authorities for both nations to advise on planned arrival times. 

ForeFlight glitched while filing the CYGK to CYRO flight plan and sent me an email suggesting that I contact Montreal Center to correct it. When I called Montreal Center and explained my issue, the answering controller simply hung up on me. I called Canadian Flight Service instead and a very friendly briefer helped me refile that plan by phone. Unfortunately, in the scramble to fix the Canadian IFR flight plan by phone, I introduced an error that only made itself apparent en route to Rockliffe the next morning.

I learned during the process that all Canadian IFR flight plans require an alternate airport regardless of weather conditions. In the US, the requirement to file an alternate is contingent on weather forecast within an hour of arrival at the destination as described by the “1-2-3 rule”. Filing an IFR flight plan for Canada by ForeFlight without an alternate will result in a rejection of that plan by Canadian Flight Service without a specific error message citing the cause.

Chimera

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
19 Oct 2023	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - YGK (Kingston, ON) - YRO (Ottawa, ON)	2.4	2744.3

Thursday, October 19 dawned as a perfect fall morning in Upstate New York with the sun shining down through clear, crisp air that carried a hint of invigorating chill.

US Sectional chart with the route from KSDC to CYGK around the east end of Lake Ontario.

I filed a route of BRUIN to ART (Watertown VOR) to Kingston to avoid overflying significant portions of Lake Ontario. Because Restricted Area R-5203 over Lake Ontario was hot that morning, Syracuse Approach vectored me closer to the shoreline and, once past the restricted area, offered direct to Watertown. But I had an arrival time that I needed to hit within +/- 15 minutes, was already running a few minutes early, and declined the shortcut. Syracuse cleared me direct to BRUIN sounding mildly puzzled by a pilot turning down an expedited route.

Looking northbound along the east end of Lake Ontario.

As I flew along the autumnal shore of Lake Ontario, I realized that I was anxious. Part of it was a general anxiety about clearing customs, but I was also concerned about radio work at Kingston. Although Kingston is an uncontrolled airport (like Sodus), it is also home to a Flight Service Station (FSS, "Kingston Radio"). While the FSS does not carry the authority of a tower, it still gives advisories and helps with traffic flow. Most on-field FSSs vanished in the US before I started flying, though I did experience one in Altoona, PA years ago that functioned similarly. Regardless, I would be subject to procedures that were new to me.

Wolfe Island in Ontario, Canada.

As I worked my way around the lake, Syracuse passed me to Wheeler-Sack Air Force Base. Wheeler-Sack passed me to Montreal Center. Montreal Center advised me to contact Kingston Radio a few miles before I crossed the border over Wolfe Island. Kingston has an ATIS (Automatic Terminal Information Service) frequency from which I gleaned the current weather. Uncontrolled airports in the US may have automated weather reporting systems (AWOS, ASOS), but are rarely staffed by a human being that records hourly ATIS broadcasts. Delta was current at Kingston.

A throbbing at my wrist caught my attention. To paraphrase the alert displayed on my watch: "You don't appear to be exercising in any way, yet your heart rate is really high." Evidently, I was more anxious than I realized!

I switched frequencies for Kingston Radio while still mentally composing the slightly verbose, Canadian-style initial call I needed to make. Initial call-ups are expected to include aircraft position and altitude, planned arrival procedure and runway, and estimated time to landing. During this time, a barely readable transmission came across the frequency.

"This is Kingston Radio, was that November Two One Four Eight One checking in?" I waited a moment for the other aircraft to chime in and, when no one spoke up, I announced myself.

"It wasn't, but November Two One Four Eight One is fifteen southeast with Delta, descending out of five thousand, planning a left downwind entry runway 19, arrival in seven minutes." The 45° pattern entry to the downwind that is preferred in the US is not used in Canada. This was a shame, because I was perfectly positioned for one. Instead, I planned an allowed -- if less preferred -- pattern entry onto an extended downwind.

Joining the downwind for runway 19 at Kingston.

The airport's layout betrays its military roots. During World War II, Kingston was one of several British Commonwealth Air Training Plan (BCATP) airports constructed in a distinctive triangular configuration where pilots trained to feed the voracious war effort. I routinely fly over others in Ontario between Buffalo and Detroit (examples include St Thomas, CYQS and Brantford, CYFD). 

Kingston Radio provided updated weather conditions while sequencing traffic like a tower with the exception that no landing clearances were given. I started thinking of Kingston Radio as the "not tower", operating with an oddly functional hybrid of towered and uncontrolled airport procedures. A Cessna 150 inbound from the north was planning a straight-in landing to the same runway. As I reached the base leg in the pattern, Kingston Radio prompted the Cessna for a position report. It was still miles out and I lined up with runway 19 to land.

Turning left base, runway 19, Kingston.

I landed lightly on runway 19 (airport #269) in the face of a stiff southerly wind off Lake Ontario. I taxied to the FBO ramp of what was only my fourth airport outside the US, shut down, and called Canadian customs to report my arrival. As usual, I was immediately cleared into Canada and provided with a confirmation number. No officers met me at the airplane. 

When landing IFR at an uncontrolled US airport, a phone call to Flight Service is necessary to cancel IFR. Towered airports, on the other hand, will automatically cancel the IFR as soon as the aircraft lands. I wondered if Kingston Radio cancelled IFR for me the way a tower would have and called Canadian Flight Service to be certain. The briefer confirmed that Kingston Radio closed out my IFR. Honestly, I felt a little spoiled by Kingston Radio!

On the ramp at Kingston with the former airline terminal and control tower.

What the Heck is a LANRK?

After a brief pitstop at Central Airways, I cranked the Warrior's engine and contacted Kingston Radio to request IFR clearance to Rockcliffe. I had a schedule to keep.

Ottawa VTA (VFR Terminal Area chart).

Rockliffe (CYRO) is northeast and just outside the inner core of airspace surrounding the capital city's MacDonald-Cartier International Airport. West of Rockliffe along the Ottawa River are two restricted areas, CYR-537 and CYR-538. Though of limited diameter, the restricted areas reach up to 3,000 feet to protect Parliament Hill and Rideau Hall from overflights. While nowhere near as onerous as the airspace protecting the US capital, they are problematic for aircraft descending to or climbing away from Rockliffe and departures from either runway there are advised to turn 20° north from runway heading to avoid conflicts. I filed a route from Kingston via the Ottawa VOR (far left of the chart above) then direct to Rockliffe to avoid the restricted areas entirely.

Canadian VNC (VFR Navigational Chart) showing the route I filed to avoid restricted Ottawa airspace.

However, Kingston Radio read off a full route clearance for me with a very different routing. "November Two One Four Eight One is cleared to Rockliffe via PERTH, LANRK, direct..."

How do you spell LANRK?

Canadian VNC showing the route I was cleared for by Kingston Radio.

By this new route, I would approach Rockcliffe from the southwest rather than the west-northwest. I would spend time en route pondering the implications of that change relative to the restricted airspaces. I genuinely did not want to bust any airspace in the Canadian capital.

Off runway 19 at Kingston and turning en route to Rockliffe.

Kingston Radio helpfully coordinated my departure from runway 19 with another aircraft launching from runway 25 that I could not see. I was off the ground at 10:15 am exactly to plan. Before I departed the control zone to the north, Kingston Radio signed off and advised me to contact Montreal Center. Montreal Center immediately cleared me direct to LANRK, effectively providing a shortcut to Ottawa. All was going extremely well.

Montreal Calling

In cruise flight, I was astounded by how desolate the landscape between Kingston and Ottawa was. While I saw highways and farms below, the landscape resembled none of the urban sprawl surrounding the US capital.

Cruising at 5,000 feet over unfamiliar Ontario lakes and fields, my watch buzzed again. It was not my heart rate this time, it was an incoming text from my wife who was having some heart rate issues of her own.

"Canada just called me about you. Gave me a heart attack. Please give me a holler that all is well?!?" (Yes, she actually texted the word "holler".)

When Kristy answered a call from an unknown Montreal number that morning, a blast of frenzied French filled her ear. She was able to glean that they thought I was running late for an arrival at Rockliffe and wanted to know if I had left Kingston yet. Kristy can track my phone and verified that I was still in Kingston. The caller from Montreal advised that she would call me next, but my phone never logged a call.

Running late? I'm exactly on time! How can that be?

Root Cause Investigation

Later in the day, I pieced it all together. Canadian IFR flight plans are actually two flight plans that exist in parallel, the IFR clearance part (just like in the US) that needs to be specifically delivered to the pilot immediately prior to flying it and a search and rescue part that automatically activates when the flight is scheduled to depart. The latter search and rescue component is unique to Canada, but I was already very aware of its existence. Because I was right on time, I could not conceive of what had gone wrong.

However, when I reviewed my notes from filing the IFR flight plan from Kingston to Rockliffe with Canadian Flight Service the night before, I realized that I made an arithmetic error in my scramble to fix the glitched Canadian flight plan. I planned to depart Kington at 10:15 am, but mistakenly converted this to 1315 Zulu, which is actually 9:15 am. As a result, my search and rescue flight plan to Rockliffe activated at 9:15 am while I was still flying in US airspace en route to Kingston. Because I planned a 41 minute flight from Kingston to Rockliffe, Canadian Flight Service started looking for me around 10:00 am when the plan was not closed on time. This was 100% my mistake.

Presumably, once I received IFR clearance as relayed by Kingston Radio, my location and intentions became obvious enough that Flight Service did not need to call me. Kudos to Canadian Flight Service for their diligence and I am sorry that my inability to do simple math caused any trouble. These "self-activating" flight plans in Canada are one of the things that US pilots are repeatedly warned about because the process is so different from what happens in the US. Delays in departure time can cause exactly this outcome if the flight plan is not amended. However, even this awareness failed to save me from my own foibles. While there was no ultimate harm in this case, I strive for professionalism and am frustrated by the error.

Fortunately, this was the only snag in an otherwise well-planned and well-executed cross-border flight.

Is There Anyone Else There I Can Talk To?

Until now, all of my previous flights to Canada were to a single, specific destination (Toronto, Bromont, and London) with direct returns to the US. This was the first time I ever cleared customs at one airport before flying to another purely within the Canadian ATC system. Thus, this flight was different in character from previous forays into Canada.

Montreal Center handed me off to Ottawa Terminal, where I was impressed by the fluidity with which the controllers switched between French and English on the crowded frequency. Amid that aural chaos, the controller requested my intentions for landing. Because the wind at Ottawa (Rockliffe does not have weather reporting) was out of the southwest, I planned a direct right downwind entry to runway 27 for a visual approach. Right traffic mandated for runway 27 at Rockliffe keeps aircraft mostly over the Ottawa River and eliminates overflying portions of Ottawa south of the field.

"OK, if you want to cancel IFR in the air, you will need to do so before descending below 3,000 feet," the controller instructed. This is not something that one would usually hear in the US. I was vectored clockwise around the city to approach Rockcliffe from a northwesterly direction exactly as I would have done had Nav Canada granted my filed route.

Portions of Ottawa grayed out by morning haze.

Ottawa Terminal held me high on approach to Rockliffe due to an aircraft below doing aerial survey work. When I was finally allowed to descend, I cancelled IFR. "Cherokee One Four Eight One, do you want to also cancel the search and rescue portion?" (The Ottawa controllers liked to use the last four digits of my tail number instead of just the last three, which sounded incredibly unfamiliar and clunky to my ear.)

"Affirmative, Cherokee Four Eight One." I said this without any hint of irony, not having figured out why Flight Service called my wife that morning.

I descended over the Quebec side of the Ottawa River with the airport in sight. As an uncontrolled airport without a Flight Service Station, communications at Rockliffe were more comfortable and familiar than at Kingston.

From the air, the massive Canada Aviation and Space Museum was obvious. Rockliffe Flying Club aircraft lined the northernmost taxiway.

Right base for runway 27 at Rockliffe with the skyline of Ottawa in the background.

According to both the Canada Flight Supplement and the museum's website, fly-in visitors are to call the Rockliffe Flying Club on Unicom to advise that they are parking at the museum. In turn, the flying club will call the museum by phone to arrange entry for the pilot through a back door.

A vintage WACO on the field at Rockliffe.

While still rolling out for landing on runway 27 (airport #270), I called the flying club.

"Rockliffe Unicom, Cherokee November Two One Four Eight One."

After a longer than expected pause, "Uh...Cherokee...go ahead." I wondered if US numerical tail numbers are as awkward to parse for Canadians as Canadian all-letter callsigns are for US pilots.

"I'm here to visit the museum. It's my understanding that you will call them about letting me in. Is that correct?"

"Uh...stand by." When he returned to the frequency, he sounded much more confident. "Yes, Cherokee, go ahead and exit on Charlie, then taxi Alpha to Bravo, cross the runway to Delta and you can park right over there."

Ugh. I already know where to go. I decided to call the museum myself once I parked the plane.

"Thanks," I said with more enthusiasm than I felt.

A new voice sternly joined the frequency. "That's not what he asked. He needs you to call the museum so that he's not stuck outside trying to get in." My unknown benefactor clearly understood the system.

"Oh," replied Rockliffe Unicom. "OK, we'll call them."

Warrior 481 parked near the Reserve Hangar (left) and the Canada Aviation & Space Museum (right).

Taxiways Bravo and Delta are portions of former runway 22. The Canada Aviation and Space Museum and the Reserve Hangar (for aircraft either being stored or undergoing restoration) bracket the former airbase runway. In fact, the extension of the runway past the museum even defines the footprint of the museum's long, narrow parking lot. Arrivals by car pay $3.75 / hour ($9.00 daily maximum) to park on site. Arrivals by air pay nothing to park. That is a nice change.

Backside of the Canada Aviation and Space Museum. Imagine being able to park outside the Smithsonian like this?

Canada Aviation and Space Museum Reserve Hangar. The picture does not do justice to the size of this hangar.

Those are some really big doors!

I waited several minutes outside the massive hangar doors of the museum. With good access to an airport, the Canadian museum is situated far more advantageously than the Smithsonian National Air & Space Museum (NASM) on the National Mall in the US. Moving airplanes into and out of the NASM is not easy.

By now, it was 11:15 am. I was not only concerned that I had missed my entry time, but that I might miss the special Reserve Hangar tour at 11:30 am. Eventually, a tiny door opened in the massive, blank fascia of the museum and a security guard waved me over while apologizing for the wait.

I was in! My pre-paid ticket was accepted and I obtained the second to last open slot for the Reserve Hangar tour. I was all set to immerse myself in Canadian aviation history.