An “Air Port”

Any Port in a Storm...

 

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
15 Jun 2024	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - GKJ (Meadville, PA) - SDC	3.6	2831.8

Meadville, Pennsylvania seems to be a place that values its airport.

I have been aware of the Port Meadville Airport for many years and was puzzled that a landlocked municipality in northern Pennsylvania would be called "Port Meadville". More recently, I realized that the town is simply named "Meadville" and that "Port" is solely prepended onto the airport name. It makes perfect sense. Much as the city of Rochester's "Port of Rochester" receives and shelters ships that traverse the Great Lakes, Port Meadville is a safe haven in Meadville for air going vessels.

The Port Meadville Airport features an immaculately paved 5,000 foot long runway, fuel appropriate to kerosene guzzlers and air knockers alike, a genuinely nice terminal building with a great view of the ramp, and even infrastructure for a radio based localizer instrument approach. Aside from having one of the most inscrutable identifiers in the region (GKJ), Port Meadville is a wonderful facility.

Within the pilot community, Port Meadville is best known as the home of the $100 hot dog. (At least in the Northeast considering that Sporty's at Clermont County Airport in Ohio is much farther away.) This is due to the proximity of Eddie's Footlongs, purveyors of footlong hot dogs in Meadville since 1947. A mere five minute walk takes pilots from the airport parking apron to the start of the line at Eddie's. Based on n=2 visits, there always seems to be a line.

Mission

It was a beautiful day to fly. I had a high school graduation to attend midafternoon and knew that I could not go too far or do anything too involved. Port Meadville came to mind because, though I had been there before with Tom and Alicia while Warrior 481 was undergoing avionics upgrades, I wanted to log my own landing there. And I would need lunch. So...win-win.

Aloft at 6,500 feet, southwest bound, VFR and receiving flight following from Rochester Approach, I was nearly startled by the green of the terrain and the building cumulus south of my route. Though a few days premature according to the calendar, summer had definitely settled into Upstate New York. The trickiest part of the entire flight was providing the correct airport identifier to Rochester because it is so non-intuitive. When it doubt, it is easiest to read those identifiers right off the GNS 430W display.

ForeFlight ground track from Sodus to Port Meadville.

I hand flew to Port Meadville, enjoying the smooth air under a crisp blue dome of sky. Closer to Buffalo, the line of clouds encroached on my flight path and I deviated around it.

I crossed over Chautauqua Lake in the westernmost segment of New York as I was handed off to Buffalo Approach on 121.0. It was the former Erie Approach frequency that had been consolidated with Buffalo. (Interesting that approach control was consolidated across facilities separated by a state line). The frequency has always been memorable because I still recall a controller assigning it to me as "one two one nothin'".

Left base, runway 25, Port Meadville.

Inbound, there was a lot of chatter on the Port Meadville Airport frequency, but those aircraft had all cleared the area by the time I arrived (airport #277).

Port Meadville Airport

Seventy Seven Years

Port Meadville Airport's gate leads directly onto a residential street, though one of the first houses had a hangar within which a J3 Cub waited for its next flight. I wondered about the logistics of runway access as I walked past.

There was quite a line of people already waiting to order at Eddie's.

The hot dog stand is cash only, but an ATM is positioned next to the ordering windows for those of us so firmly ensconced in the twenty-first century that we do not regularly carry cash. For once, I already had cash in my wallet.

The local wildlife was rather bold, but I kept my footlong to myself.

Triumph and Tragedy

Back at the Port Meadville Airport, I entered the terminal building to explore.

I discovered a memorial to Meadville resident Vicki Van Meter who once held the record for the youngest pilot to fly from east to west across the United States, a feat accomplished in 1993 at the age of 11.

Given that she only lived to the age of 26, it was clear that there was much left unsaid by the memorial. Follow-up research revealed personal tragedy and how the smiling young woman in the photo struggled with depression. Her story ended prematurely from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Vicki was part of a cadre of young pilots pushing for aviation records in the 1990s, a movement that ended with the fatal crash of Jessica Dubroff in 1996. Dubroff was seven years old and attempting to gain publicity as the youngest pilot to fly across the United States on what was dubbed the "Sea to Shining Sea" flight. Flying is a mental game that goes well beyond mere mechanical manipulation of aircraft controls and such a stunt minimizes the thoughtful planning that is such a large part of being a pilot, responsibility that no seven year old is equipped to bear. Tragically, her instructor's Cessna Cardinal crashed after departing into severe weather from Cheyenne, Wyoming. The NTSB ruled the cause of the crash to be the instructor's decision to launch into poor weather conditions, putting the blame with the pilot in command exactly where it belonged.

In recognition of the massive potential for poor judgement and child endangerment in pursuit of these kinds of publicity stunts, President Bill Clinton signed the Child Pilot Safety Act into law as part of the Federal Aviation Reauthorization Act of 1996. The statute prohibits anyone who does not hold at least a private pilot certificate and a current medical certificate from manipulating the controls of an aircraft, if that individual "is attempting to set a record or engage in an aeronautical competition or aeronautical feat." Because 17 is the minim age for private pilot eligibility, the legislation sought to end publicity seeking flights made with young children at aircraft controls.

It was a curious historical cul-de-sac that I had stumbled upon. Because these events happened in the late 1990s, both well before my entry into aviation and when I was so busy as a graduate student that I largely ignored current events (except for OJ Simpson -- even in an effective media blackout, there was no escaping OJ), I was completely unaware of this story until investigating more after seeing the memorial at Port Meadville.

Room with a View

Port Meadville's terminal building features a second level that appears to have little purpose beyond granting an overhead perspective on the parking apron. As I took in the excellent view, I noted the less-than-excellent parking job made by a pilot that arrived while I was at Eddie's.

Parked next to Warrior 481 was a practically new 2022 Tecnam P2010 TDI flying behind a 170 horsepower diesel Continental CD-170 engine. Though it might appear to be a rather conventional, Cessna 172-ish strut-braced high wing airplane, the P2010 TDI boasts a 140 knot (161 mph) cruise speed while burning 5.2 gallons of jet fuel per hour with a 1300 nautical mile range. Nice!

After admiring the Tecnam, I returned to my trusty 1970s vintage magic carpet.

Right on Time

Targeting an arrival at graduation of 3:15 in the afternoon, I estimated that I needed to be airborne from Port Meadville by 12:30. I managed to get aloft a mere three minutes late. Fortunately, my dress clothes were waiting for me in the hangar so that I did not need to stop at home to change.

Port Meadville Airport photographed after departure.

To my chagrin, I found that the return flight featured just as much of a headwind as the outbound flight had. This time I flew a direct route home and, when clouds got in the way, I descended below them to hand fly in the bumps underneath.

Looking north along I-79 from Meadville toward Erie.

Chautauqua Lake with Lake Erie in the distance.

I landed at Sodus, pushed Warrior 481 back into the hangar, and meticulously cleaned the bugs from the windshield and the leading surfaces of the cowling, wings, and stabilator. I changed my clothes, fidgeting with a tie for the first time in many months, and hopped into the car with the air conditioning cranked as frosty as it would go. 

I arrived at graduation at exactly 3:15 pm. I love it when a plan comes together. What a great day to fly!