Groundhog Day at Alton Bay

Tell Phil That I'm Not Interested

For over a century, February 2 -- otherwise known as Groundhog Day -- revolved around the supposed meteorologically oracular talents of a corpulent rodent in the Keystone State. But since 1993 and the debut of the Bill Murray film of the same name, Groundhog Day has come to represent the ultimate do-over and a chance to make things right. (I prefer this positive interpretation over that of "mindless repetition" also sometimes attributed to Groundhog Day.)

Over the last three years, The Bear has expressed great interest in visiting Alton Bay, the only FAA-authorized ice runway in the continental United States. While her passion for aviation is a fraction of mine, she happily seeks out novel flying experiences: her first flight through the clouds, her first landing on grass, her first seaplane landing, or her first flight around Manhattan. I am more than happy to indulge this interest and Alton Bay most certainly ticks the novelty box. Unfortunately, opportunities to get there often come down to the whimsy of weather.

In 2022, Alton Bay did not open the Saturday morning that we anticipated. But it was an excellent flying day, so I took wing with a group of WFC pilots for sushi in Massachusetts instead (Westfield-Barnes Airport, KBAF). Less interested in sushi than landing on a frozen bay, The Bear chose to stay home. While eating our lunch in Massachusetts, Alton Bay opened and our group made the short hop to the ice. The Bear was furious that she missed out. A very brief 2022 season for the ice runway eliminated opportunities to return that year. In 2023 and 2024, ice formation during the warm winter was so anemic that Alton Bay did not open at all. When I organized the 2025 Williamson Flying Club trip the previous week, it was on a Saturday when The Bear could not participate. In compensation, I pledged that I would actively seek out another opportunity to take her.

Groundhog Day

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
02 Feb 2025	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - B18 (Alton Bay, NH) - SDC	5.4	2957.9

So it was that on Groundhog Day 2025, I found myself back at the controls of Warrior 481 bound for the Alton Bay Ice Runway on the same course and altitude as eight days earlier. Weather conditions were different this time around, but the critical difference was that The Bear was flying right seat with me. I needed far fewer tries to make things right than Bill Murray required back in 1993.

The Bear and me flying to Alton Bay!

"Wakey-Wakey, Eggs and Bakey"

It almost did not happen. 

Alton Bay was closed during the previous week due to a snowstorm and the crew only managed to clear the runway the day before. A NOTAM closing Alton Bay was still active until 7:00 am that morning. Additionally, a promising forecast nonetheless held some risk. I awoke that morning at 5:00 am and checked weather, squinting at ForeFlight on my phone in the dark. I concluded that the risk of being shut out of Sodus by snow on the return flight was too great. I woke The Bear, told her that we would not go that day, and encouraged her to sleep in. I took my own advice and slept until 7:00 am. 

However, while we snoozed, a new TAF (terminal aerodrome forecast) issued for Rochester that pushed the weather out a few hours. As expected, the NOTAM closing the ice runway did expire and no new notification replaced it. In a fit of strategic whiplash, I woke The Bear for the second time that morning and told her that we could still make it if she could be ready to go in 20 minutes. She agreed enthusiastically (impressive for a sleepy teenager) with the stipulation that I make breakfast while she got ready. We had a deal.

At the airport, there was ice and snow to remove from in front of the hangar door, fuel to add to the Warrior now resting on three fully inflated tires (the left main had a new tube), and then there was the moment when I slipped on ice while pulling the airplane from the hangar and landed flat on my back. Somehow, I avoided knocking the wind out of myself or hitting my head on the slick pavement. My abs absolutely ached the next day and I suspect that I reflexively, abruptly curled up while falling and that probably saved my head.

To put it mildly, we had some delays in getting under way. 

We departed Sodus at 8:30 am, an hour and a half later than our original plan. Fortunately, the extra time granted by the revised forecast amounted to three hours such that our new window of opportunity was still wider than I originally assessed despite the delay.

Camera at the Ready

We passed from Syracuse, through multiple sectors of Boston Center, and ultimately to Boston Approach once within the boundaries of New Hampshire. Same course, same altitude, same frequency handoffs as the week prior.

Photo by The Bear.

Weather conditions on Groundhog Day were better than the week prior, characterized by a high ceiling and no thin screen of clouds hiding the ground from view. Despite sameness in many dimensions, the flight was nonetheless a completely different experience due to the welcome presence of my daughter.

Photo by The Bear.

The Bear peered downward past the wing and studied the newsprint winter vista laid out below, her camera held at the ready. "I haven't flown in winter for a long time," she stated. It rang true, though I did not remember how long it had been.

Photo by The Bear.

"What do you think this is?" she asked, turning her camera around so that I could see the displayed raw image.

"Landfill," I suggested, knowing that the answer would disappoint her.

Photo by The Bear.

She was particularly proud of capturing this singular tree, its shadow crown starkly visible against the snow like a reflection. The Bear is developing a really good eye for photography.

Photo by The Bear.

Foothills of the Adirondack Mountains.

Lake George in Upstate NY.

Sixth Landing at Alton Bay

Mountains near Alton Bay with Lake Winnipesaukee just behind them.

Just like a week prior, I navigated the terrain northwest of Alton Bay to enter the pattern on a 45-degree angle. Radio chatter was continuous and I worried for a moment that parking would be full.

"There it is!" I pointed to the ice runway as we cleared terrain hiding it. At first glance, the parking area appeared quite full and my heart momentarily sank. Still, landing aircraft were not being turned away.

Photo by The Bear.

A closer look showed that there were indeed spaces available. The Bear wielded her trusty Nikon like a pro and captured our approach and landing.

Photo by The Bear.

On my first visit to Alton Bay in 2015, the runway and parking areas were not nearly so crisply defined as what we saw through our windscreen. Back then, the runway showed some curvature and the parking area was oddly trapezoidal. In 2025, the entire Alton Bay Ice Runway facility looked as though it had been laid out on a draftsman's table.

Photo by The Bear.

As we crossed over the parking area, I made a perfunctory radio call. "Alton Bay traffic, Cherokee Four Eight One, short final, 1, Alton Bay."

The pilot of a Cessna Skylane still on the runway responded plaintively. "I am clearing as fast as I can." I realized in the moment that he must have mistaken my position report as a prompt to hurry up.

"No worries, we have plenty of room," I responded in as assuring a tone as possible.

Photo by The Bear.

The Skylane was on the verge of clearing the runway as we prepared to touch down on the surface of the frozen lake.

Moments before touch down. Photo by The Bear.

I am happy to report that it was another soft landing on the ice. Nobody wants to be responsible for breaking the ice runway.

Photo by The Bear.

As we coasted to taxi speed on the runway, we passed the Skylane taxiing in for the ramp on the parallel taxiway.

Photo by The Bear.

An orange "bob house" caught The Bear's eye. Growing up in Michigan, I would have called this an "ice fishing shanty" or just a "shanty". I still distinctly remember being roughly five years old when a shanty on our lake caught fire and how the charred enclosure spent the remainder of the season half submerged and trapped in the ice.

Photo by The Bear.

An RV that was behind us in the pattern touched down as we taxied toward the parking area.

Photo by The Bear.

Alton Bay's floating bandstand is the only permanent, year-round feature on the surface of Alton Bay. We were directed to parking about halfway down the west side of the parking apron and a volunteer helped The Bear and I reposition the Warrior properly in a parking spot.

Mission Accomplished!

It is no small task getting to Alton Bay from Sodus, but we managed it. For me, it was my first time visiting the ice runway twice in the same season. As I reflected on the weather uncertainty, the early wake up, the fall on the ice that morning, and the long ride, I wondered if the experience had been worth it for The Bear.

"Are you glad you came?" I asked her.

"Definitely!" she answered.

We met another volunteer at the red "swag tent" who offered me another ice chip. I mentioned that I already had one from the previous week and she asked, "Did you do the landing both times?" When I answered in the affirmative she handed me with the chip. I passed it on to The Bear as a souvenir of her first landing on the ice. The volunteer also presented me with a certificate and, because I did not get one a week earlier, she amended it to include both dates of landing. 

"Oh, you were here on the 25th!" she noted. "That was our second day open this year and we set a record that day." (164 airplanes.) I later learned that 70 airplanes landed on the frozen bay the day The Bear and I were there.

I also offered to buy The Bear a hat. She chose a blue one, just like mine.

Good Timing

We exited to the shore at 11:00 am as Shibley's at the Pier was opening for the day. It was perfect timing and we were among the first seated for lunch.

As we enjoyed our lunch, we sat on the same side of the table so that we could watch the comings and goings of aircraft to Alton Bay through the windows. At one point, we were watching an RV on final approach when a green and white Citabria swooped into view from above the restaurant in a steep, descending turn and appeared to cut off the RV. A gasp went through the restaurant as the Citabria seemed about to collide with the RV and the two aircraft landed quite close to each other in the same part of the runway. Was this a planned maneuver between the pilots? Was it "air rage" or recklessness? I have no idea. As the aircraft taxied in to parking, I envisioned a fist fight breaking out once the pilots emerged from their respective rides, but do not actually know what happened.

The Bear very predictably ordered a hot chocolate with whipped cream as part of her lunch. It, and our sandwiches were excellent. Taking a long standing behavioral cue from Kristy, The Bear asked for a box for her leftovers, then forgot it when we left.

Airplane Spotting

A Bonanza taxies to the parking area.

A Super Decathlon and Warrior 481.

A Citabria and Maule on amphibious floats.

The owner of the amphibious Maule (seen in the background getting a picture of his bird on the ice) commented that he was the only one there who could claim to have landed in the same spot on Alton Bay in both the winter and summer. He certainly had a point. Such a cool airplane!

Alton Bay's floating bandstand about 100 feet south of the runway threshold.

A 1956 Cessna 182.

"That is a Super Viking," I said to The Bear as the vintage Bellanca taxied past. "Its wings are entirely made of wood and it's fast."

"Wood?" responded The Bear with the kind of doubt that only a teenager can summon.

The Viking launched from the ice as an Alton Bay volunteer -- I think it was Paul -- watched.

The Bear was utterly fascinated by the surface. While I grew up walking across frozen lakes in the winter, being on the ice was a unique experience for The Bear.

"Hey, that was going to be my shot!" she complained as I took this picture.

"Mark found the cracks disconcerting last week," I responded, completely dodging her accusation.

"Yeah, actually, I wasn't going to say anything, but..." The Bear trailed off meaningfully.

A 1993 Cessna 205.

Photo by The Bear.

Shortly after noon, we decided to head home. I still had concerns about wind and weather back in Sodus and, once The Bear had her fill of the Alton Bay experience, I saw no reason to dawdle.

An Encounter with Polecat 2

Photo by The Bear.

We launched from Alton Bay at 12:17 pm, climbing northward over the vast icefield that was Lake Winnipesaukee.

Blurry shot of a labyrinth in the Path of Life Garden, Windsor, VT.

Famous ski resort in Killington, VT.

As we crossed back into New York, our Boston Center controller was also working "Polecat 2". With a callsign like that, I assumed that Polecat 2 must be military and this was confirmed for me when the other pilot indicated his destination was the CHUGS MOA (military operations area) that we had just passed beneath.

A very tiny Polecat 2 zipping by. Photo by The Bear.

Then Boston Center turned his attention to us. "Cherokee Four Eight One, traffic, 11:00, one thousand feet below, F-15." A target moved across my traffic display at 450 knots (518 miles per hour).

"I see it!" called out The Bear, pointing toward an Adirondack ridge ahead where a small, fast-moving dot zipped across our path. Good eye! We do not encounter in-flight fighter planes often in our travels, let alone pick them up visually. Based on the Polecat callsign, I believe that this F-15 was based at the Westfield-Barnes Air National Guard facility that we frequent for sushi.(F-15s and sushi...now that is a combination.)

Photo by The Bear.

"Any Way the Wind Blows..."

An approaching cold front from the west was forecast to bring wind, turbulence, and snow with it that afternoon. While the snow was delayed until after our return home, we encountered occasional, moderate turbulence and a powerful headwind once we passed Syracuse. I slowed the Warrior down to better manage the turbulence and this, combined with the headwind, dropped our ground speed as low as 73 knots. The last thirty minutes of the ride home were a slog.

Ice on Sodus Bay. Photo by The Bear.

Forecasts indicated that the wind at Sodus would be out of the southeast at ten knots gusting to the mid-teens. Despite the fact that the runway was a solid sheet of ice, I decided that morning that the wind would be manageable. As we bumped along near Syracuse against a westerly wind, uplinked weather claimed that the wind at Sodus was actually out of the north-northeast at ten knots gusting nearly to 20 knots. But this was not the case by the time we landed.

In the descent, wind direction rotated counterclockwise until it became a direct southerly crosswind. We settled to the ice covered runway in a significant side slip right at the edge of available rudder authority, touching down on and holding centerline (what little I could see of it) while bleeding off the excess speed I carried during landing to ensure control authority. Braking was less effective there than at Alton Bay and, with full aileron into the wind and backpressure on the controls, we coasted to walking speed in the final tenth of the runway. For anyone who ever wondered if landing on the Alton Bay Ice Runway is difficult, it had nothing on the landing at Sodus that afternoon. But we had a good outcome and I was pleased with my performance.

Transitional

As an aviator, I am always thrilled by the prospect of landing on the ice of Alton Bay and experiencing a surface seasonally transformed. But for me, today's flight was less about the ice and more about The Bear. I delighted in her enthusiasm about experiencing the ice runway, about her keen scrutiny of the landscape passing beneath our wings en route, and by her enthusiastic sharing of raw images just captured with her camera as we sat side by side in the Warrior. Most of all, I enjoyed sharing the adventure with her.

Much like the seasonal ice runway, this phase of our lives will soon transition to something new and different. College acceptances are already rolling in and high school graduation is just four months away. I am very excited for her in this coming phase. After all, I regard college as where I became who I truly am. All of the places she applied are wonderfully well suited to her and I came away from every visit saying, "I wish that I could go here!" I genuinely look forward to seeing her come into her own in the coming years. But I know that I will also miss having her at home. The way I see it, the fact that she enthusiastically devoted an entire day for an adventure with her Dad is a true gift.

Alton Bay's "Excellent Water"

Winter's Airport

For pilots in the Northeast, one of the most eagerly anticipated events each year is the freezing of Alton Bay, a narrow, southerly oriented limb off the main body of New Hampshire's expansive Lake Winnipesaukee. When bay ice consistently thickens to over 12 inches, a team of dedicated volunteers collaborates with the New Hampshire Department of Transportation to open the Alton Bay Ice Runway. Over the years, its coveted status as the only FAA-authorized ice runway in the continental United States has endeared it to aviators seeking novelty. For pilots who fly wheeled aircraft and whose insurance companies do not permit "off airport" operations, the plowed 100 foot wide by 2600-3000 foot long Alton Bay Ice Runway gives a taste of backcountry experience at an FAA-recognized airport.

Despite its acclaim, the ephemeral airport leads a finicky existence. In 2023 and 2024, the ice never thickened sufficiently for it to open at all. Thaws, rain, snow, and strong crosswinds can temporarily close the airport. Warm spells can mean doom for this frozen Brigadoon. Additionally, cooperative wind is critical because all take-offs and landings must be made to the north (runway 19 is permanently closed); Alton Bay is one way in and out. Finally, no matter its condition, the FAA stipulates that ice runway operations must cease by March 31 each year.

An early winter cold snap in 2025 led to Alton Bay opening unusually early: January 24. But getting there from Rochester, NY is never a simple task and not only requires the runway to be open with favorable conditions, but the weather between here and there must be amenable to a six hour round trip to get there and back again. In particular, the capricious lake effect weather machine dominating atmospheric conditions on the southern Lake Ontario shore must shut down enough for anyone to consider making the flight. In ten years, I have only managed six trips to Alton Bay (including 2025).

When forecasts looked promising for Saturday, January 25 -- the second day the runway was open for 2025 -- I rallied Williamson Flying Club members to go. Six answered the call. Considering that the runway had not materialized since 2022, pent up demand was understandably high. I urged all participants to be airborne by 7:00 am if we were to have any chance of securing limited airplane parking spots on the ice of Alton Bay. I assured anyone grumpy about the early departure that they would thank me later.

Fireball

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
25 Jan 2024	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - B18 (Alton Bay, NH) - LCI (Laconia, NH) - SDC	5.8	2952.5

We launched under darkened skies with the eastern horizon warmed by the slightest crimson glow. As Warrior 481 lifted us to a cruise altitude of 7,500 feet, the first hint of the sunrise came in the form of a massive fireball turned vermillion by miles of low haze between us and the horizon.

Though we climbed above the low cloud layer first, the sun soon followed and shed its merlot aspect in favor of something more balanced across the visual spectrum.

We skimmed low over the clouds at 7,500 feet on a direct course between the Williamson Sodus Airport and Alton Bay.

Accompanying me aboard Warrior 481 were Mark G and Joe F. Mark has joined me on a number of recent aviation adventures from Tuskegee to Old Rhinebeck to aerial forays over New York City and Boston. Joe is a recently certificated Private Pilot who last flew with me in 2023 when we visited a pancake breakfast at the National Warplane Museum in Geneseo, NY. Joe experienced his first grass landing that day and was about to get his first ice landing. Joe's interest in Alton Bay goes back to childhood. He grew up near Lake Winnipesaukee, had watched airplanes landing on the ice as a kid, and never dreamed that he would someday arrive in one. His parents would be waiting for us when we arrived.

Photo by Ed.

A few miles ahead of us were Ed C and Randal S. Randal is another recently certificated Private Pilot who flew with me in 2024 for an after work ice cream run to Dansville. He also joined us on our most recent flight to Old Rhinebeck. 

Behind Warrior 481 were Scott L and Gilead B in Eight Five X-Ray. Scott was with me the day we landed at Alton Bay for the 2019 winter carnival and became one of the 150 record-breaking airplanes to touch down on the ice that day. Today would be his first landing on the ice as pilot in command. Gilead achieved his first landing at Alton Bay when we went in 2022.

At cruise, we were separated from the mountainous surface by an ethereal scrim of vapor.

Not Cool, Man

After transitioning across multiple sectors of Boston Center's vast airspace, the home stretch found us on with Boston Approach under a crisp, blue New Hampshire sky. With as much as 25 knots of tailwind, we made the flight from Sodus to Alton Bay in only two hours.

Lake Winnisquam with Lake Winnipesaukee in the distance.

I was anxious about availability of parking on the ice and punished myself by remotely monitoring the veritable swarm of uplinked aircraft traffic data in the pattern at Alton Bay. It was a foolhardy obsession because I had no idea of how many aircraft were already parked on the ice. Watching new arrivals from a distance fed my anxiety, but told me nothing of value.

A few miles out we navigated terrain on the west side of Lake Winnipesaukee. Joe called out some of the peaks below and reminisced about his childhood exploration of them. 

We slipped into the left downwind for runway 1 at Alton Bay and, once we could see the parking area, sighed in relief. It was only half full of parked aircraft. 

Rolling out on final approach, I was surprised to see another airplane stopped right at the runway threshold. Usually, Alton Bay volunteers hold departure traffic significantly farther back from the threshold when other aircraft are about to land. As a result, I normally aim my touchdown point for the threshold to ensure plenty of runway length to coast to a stop on the slick surface.

"Should that guy be so close to the threshold?" Joe asked. I confirmed that it was an odd place for them to be. Stopped with their back to us, the pilot of the other airplane would be incapable of seeing us. This is why ice runway prime movers Jason Leavitt and Paul LaRochelle regulate take-offs on busy weekend flying days. I adjusted my trajectory to land slightly long so as not to buzz the other airplane.

Then I saw the high wing airplane creep forward. "Is he moving?!" I asked rhetorically in utter disbelief. Sure enough, as we were on short final, the other airplane decided to take off. My options were to hope he got off the ice before we landed or to initiate a go-around. With his take off imminent, I was concerned that a go-around might create a midair collision risk. Managing that would require significantly sidestepping the runway at a low altitude while aborting the landing.

As we sank lower and the other airplane gained airspeed, I debated these two options silently. Once the other airplane broke "ground", I committed to landing. Everything worked out fine, but it was much closer than it should have been. Mark captured the whole thing on video. (See below, judge for yourself.) I was particularly annoyed that the other pilot was probably completely oblivious to our presence. 

My hypothesis is that Paul et al. released the other plane to the runway while I was still on base and there was still plenty of time for them to take off. Instead of launching immediately as expected, the pilot dawdled at the threshold before deciding to take off. Ultimately it was all fine, but not the kind of adventure I was looking for that morning. At the time, I was unaware that another unfortunate surprise was in store for us later in the day.

Back on the Ice

In spite of the distraction, I greased the landing on the ice. It was my fifth landing at Alton Bay in ten years and my sixth visit.

Paul and Jason marshaled us to parking. Though Jason moved on once we were stopped, Paul lingered to help me push the Warrior into a parking spot and I was able to personally thank him for all of his efforts to keep the ice runway going for so many years.

Since 2019, pilots in command have been presented with poker chips -- what the Alton Bay crew fittingly call "ice chips" -- commemorating landing at Alton Bay. I received my 2025 chip from Paul before he returned to managing arrivals.

We had arrived!

The parking situation at Alton Bay was very fluid. Though we arrived shortly after 9:00 am, the Super Cub parked next to us was already firing up to leave. This constant turn over of traffic allowed Alton Bay to set a new record that day: 164 airplanes. Impressive considering that there is only parking for about 30 at one time. One pilot flew all the way from San Antonio just to land on the ice.

Another First Time Ice Landing

We looked up in time to see Scott and Gilead lined up for Scott's first ice landing. Eight Five X-Ray glided directly over our heads as I videoed the arrival, panning past the morning sun to catch some JJ Abrams-esque lens flare. Scott's landing looked good from where I was standing (video below).

Scott taxies in after his first landing at Alton Bay.

Scott was directed to the other side of the parking area from us, just one airplane away from where Ed was already parked.

Ice Runway Pilots Assemble!

(Cue the Avengers music...)

Ed first visited Alton Bay with me in 2018, then turned the tables by flying me and Paula there in his Archer II in 2021. But this was his Archer's first appearance there since she donned her beautiful new wardrobe. Looking good on the ice!

Photo by Joe's mom.

We gathered to congratulate Scott on his first ice landing and to collectively pat ourselves on the back for getting there early enough to find parking. See? I told them that they would thank me later for the early start. Joe brought his parents over to meet the Williamson Flying Club crew and his mom was kind enough to capture the obligatory photo of everyone squinting into the sun.

The above video captures our approach and landing, including the other aircraft taking off while we were on short final. It also commemorates Scott's first landing on the ice.

Excellent Water

When landing on a frozen lake, one becomes very aware of the non-standard surface supporting all of those airplanes. Morphology varies from year to year, but the 2025 surface was largely black ice with a multitude of air bubbles trapped within that resembled an infinite universe of stars. Peering into it was like staring down eternity. Seeing me take this picture, Mark commented how disconcerting the cracks were. I could not disagree.

ForeFlight screen shot for Alton Bay.

In ForeFlight, runways are always described in terms of surface condition and type such as “poor asphalt", "good grass", or in the case of Alton Bay, "excellent water". For anyone who ever wondered what excellent water looks like, see the above photograph for an example.

Stopping to Smell the Flowers

We departed the ice in search of food. The only breakfast option that I know of in Alton Bay is the Bayside Diner. Because it is so small, the staff turn things around quickly to cycle people through. Our experience was no exception. For the wait staff, each shift must be a sprint.

Huh. Must be a seasonal sign.

Fortunately, our wait for seating at Bayside was short. Randal, Scott, Ed, and Gilead claimed a booth while Mark, Joe, and I sat across the narrow aisle from them at the counter. The stools were so close together that I kept bumping Joe as we ate. 

Next to Mark was another New York pilot from the Fulton County Airport near Albany. His flight required only half the time that ours did. When I asked about the 195 Factory, he told us that the previous owner had passed away, taking with him a vast lifetime of specialized knowledge. Sadly, it sounded like the end of an era for the 195 Factory that so impressed me just a few years ago.

Breakfast was fast and delicious. I had the meat lover's omelet with home fries and it was truly “egg-celent”. Though it was both second breakfast and lunch for me, first breakfast was five hours earlier and I was famished. Once we were fed and our bills in order, we surrendered our seats to those waiting.

I Love a Parade

Back at the airport, I did what I always do at fly-ins. I went airplane spotting. As seen here, even temporary airports warrant signage.

"It needs more lens flare!"

The entire morning was a parade of general aviation airplanes swooping low (some lower than others) over the parking area before touching down on the ice. Taildraggers and trikes, low and high wings, two seats to six seats, they all came with the same aspiration of sampling the ice of Alton Bay.

Though backlit by the sun, there was no mistaking the silhouette of a Piper Cub variant.

From shore, it was easy to spot the WFC's Eight Five X-Ray and Ed’s Four Four Papa.

That blue and white one looked familiar. I am certain that I saw it on most of my past visits to Alton Bay.

A two seat Cessna 140 provided some vintage credibility to the gathering. These airplanes were manufactured by Cessna between 1946 and 1951.

Also introduced in 1946, the Globe Swift was a nimble, all-metal, two seat sport plane with a sleek, Art Deco aesthetic. While I have always been fond of the vintage high wing Cessna taildraggers, the contemporary Swift is far more exciting. The pilot of this Swift posted a video of his landing.

I have more direct experience with the two seat Cessna 150/152 with a combined total of 135 hours logged in them. While not as appealing to me as their direct tailwheel ancestors the 120/140, I will always have a soft spot for these airplanes. Cozy (i.e., small and cramped inside) and unhurried (i.e., underpowered), I fondly remember reaching a point in my training when the 150 became such a extension of my own body that climbing aboard was like wrapping myself in a second skin with wings.

Volunteer Ground Control

Because of its unique geometry, the Alton Bay Ice Runway requires careful coordination on the ground to avoid conflicts. Pilots approaching the runway for take off cannot see aircraft on final approach behind and above them. (Like our friend that morning.) Ground traffic flows from the parallel taxiway southbound to parking and from the parking area northbound to the runway actually cross each other. All day long, Alton Bay volunteers were focused on the choke point where these three traffic patterns intersected.

Airport manager Jason Leavitt held a departing Cherokee in the parking area while other aircraft were inbound on final approach.

Landing traffic (like the Cessna 170 above) generally have right of way while outgoing traffic taxiing for departure and newly arrived traffic taxiing to parking are held in position. When the line for departures got too long, volunteers occasionally closed the airport to landing via radio to release waiting aircraft and relieve congestion on the ground. 

With a pause in landing traffic, the white and yellow Cherokee was prompted to taxi to the runway for take off while new arrivals on the taxiway were held in place. 

With the Cherokee finally able to depart, new arrivals accumulated on the taxiway were finally cleared into the parking area. The coordination performed by Alton Bay's volunteers really was excellent, particularly given the high traffic volume. The system may have broken down with the airplane that took off while I was on short final, but it worked reliably most of the day.

Water Hazards

Open water around the docks is somewhat disconcerting, but results from bubblers working to protect dock supports.

Airplane Spotting

I always liked the sporty look of the Socata Trinidad.

A local outfit called Epic Seaplane Adventures was flying rides for hire in this superfluously ski-equipped Cessna 180.

The Globe Swift taxied for departure while flashing us its distinctively toothy grin.

“Nurple?” Oh, because of the purple. Got it. Funny.

Insert macho posturing joke about airframe parachutes here.

More vintage cred: a V-tailed Beechcraft Bonanza! This was probably the largest aircraft we saw on the ice that day.

If a Searey lands at Alton Bay and Jamie is not present to see it, is it really there? Well, those photons are obviously bouncing off of something!

An interesting homespun solution to maintaining a warm engine on the ice: someone’s jacket standing in for cowl plugs. Pilots are clearly an innovative bunch. It was cold on the ice and I hoped that no one was walking around without a jacket because theirs was crammed into the snout of a Champ derivative. In the background, Joe and his parents were checking out Warrior 481.

I always thought that Maules had an attitude, but I think it has more to do with the name than the actual personality of the airplane.

Each year, rotary wing aircraft get their own special parking area.

Gilead's Turn

Having arrived as a passenger in an airplane that he was perfectly capable of flying, Gilead took a turn in Eight Five X-Ray to log his second landing on the ice runway.

With Gilead on short final, I noted that whoever cleaned Eight Five X-Ray’s belly did a heck of a job! (Mine needs some work, but it is too cold for that job right now.)

Photo by Ed.

It was another excellent landing on the ice for Eight Five X-Ray that day.

Rush Hour

After two hours on the ice, we saddled up for the return flight. Strong headwinds -- forecast to be stronger than the tailwinds we enjoyed that morning -- would stretch the flight home to over three hours.

Across the parking apron from us, Ed and Randal waited patiently for random bystanders to clear the way before cranking the engine. Prop blasting random bystanders on the ice is frowned on.

Several pilots had the same idea at the same time. Ed got out earlier than we did. We waited in a line of four aircraft to depart as Paul held us in the parking area while new arrivals streamed overhead.

When we finally advanced to the front of the line, Jason had us give way to a group of newly arrived aircraft accumulated on the taxiway.

Eventually, the ground handlers waved us on toward the runway and, unlike our compatriot from earlier that morning, I immediately throttled up for take off upon reaching the threshold. 

Feeling Salty About This One

Rattlesnake Island, Lake Winnipesaukee.

We flew northbound over Lake Winnipesaukee and stopped in Laconia for fuel along with the other participants in our flying caravan from Sodus. To my surprise, the apron near Sky Bright's fuel farm was covered with salt! While perfectly normal for roads in winter, airports do not use salt because it poses too great a corrosion risk to light aircraft. Fortunately, the ramp was dry so Warrior 481 was not spritzed with saline from taxiing through puddles. Still...not cool.

This reminded me of the time we discovered that someone salted the runway at the South Haven Area Regional airport circa 2005. What started as an observation of salt stains on people's hangar floors (including mine) ultimately led to the fire department hosing off the entire 4,800 foot long runway. Oh, what a circus that was.

Feeling Low

I chose an 8,500 foot cruise altitude to give Mark and Joe the most comfortable ride home. Unfortunately, this also meant meager ground speeds topping out around 85 knots. Shortly after crossing back into New York, clouds forced us down to 4,500 feet over the southern foothills of the Adirondacks. I clicked off HAL, preferring to hand fly in the bumps hurled at us by the terrain. I diverted southwest toward Great Sacandaga Lake and lower terrain in search of a smoother ride.

Low over the terrain, we could not raise the local sector for Boston Center. Radio reception improved closer to Rome and we made radio contact with Center just in time for them to hand us off to Syracuse. Syracuse advised of lake effect snow creating a wall between us and Sodus. Ed diverted south of the weather and made it through VFR. Gilead and I, both trailing Ed, ran into dramatically lowering visibility and requested pop-up IFR clearances. These were immediately granted. Syracuse Approach was extremely helpful in assisting us as we picked our way through the weather. Though the visibility plummeted due to snow, we were not in clouds and there was no discernable icing risk.

ForeFlight track from LCI-SDC

Within a a few minutes of going IFR, we emerged into clear air on the other side of the lake effect snow band and made for Sodus where I flew a practice RNAV-28 instrument approach with the autopilot. In total, I logged about 0.1 hours in actual instrument meteorological conditions (IMC).

A Deflating Experience

On short final, I clicked off the autopilot and brought Warrior 481 into ground effect, pulling the yoke back until she settled softly to the runway. The moment we started rolling, I could tell that something was wrong. The Warrior wanted to pull toward the left side of the runway, a pull that became increasingly insistent as we rolled out. I countered with aggressive right rudder and barely succeeded in keeping the plane on the runway. I brought the Warrior to a stop and pulled the mixture to ide cutoff to silence the engine.

Mark and Joe looked at me in confusion. "Flat tire," I explained. Then added, "I think." I had never experienced a flat tire in an airplane before, but I was pretty sure that we had one now.

Sure enough, the left main was flat. Fortunately, airport manager Mike B and Ray were both still on site. We were able to refill the tire with air and it held long enough for me, Mark, Joe, Dan VH, Gilead, Scott, and Mike B to push the Warrior from the runway all the way back to my hangar.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the critical dumb luck factor in play during this incident. A flat tire at home was an inconvenience. At Laconia, it would have been a major headache. At Alton Bay, it would have been a crisis. I am incredibly fortunate that this happened at home.

I departed the airport very curious about the cause of the flat, but had already ruled some options out:

• Blowout. Obviously, the tire did not blowout because it held air when we inflated it.
• Spinning the tube in an underinflated tire and shearing off the valve stem. Nope.
• Wet brakes from ground operations freezing at altitude and locking the wheel so that landing wears a hole right through the immobilized tire. Nope. The Warrior was rolling when we touched down and we did not taxi through any liquid water at Alton Bay or Laconia.
• Compacted snow or ice in the wheel pants immobilizing the wheel such that a hole is worn through the tire on landing. Nope. We operated off of uncontaminated surfaces all day and the wheel pants were clean inside.
• FOD (foreign object debris). Picking up a screw or other sharp object from the runway. Possibly...

In the end, Ray discovered a small hole in the tube without any evidence of what caused it. The tire was perfectly fine.

This was not how I envisioned ending the day's flying, but this clearly falls into the "expect the unexpected" category. Just as I value the camaraderie on our flying adventure that morning, I value all the folks who came together to help get my stricken airplane off the runway.

Wrapping Up

I am pleased to have organized a successful first fly-out for the Williamson Flying Club in 2025. This was the first time our Activities Committee formally organized a trip to Alton Bay. I logged 5.8 hours of time with a sliver (0.1 hours) of IMC time. It was my fifth landing at Alton Bay, my first uncomfortable moment flying into Alton Bay, my first IMC time for the year (even though barely), and my first ever flat tire. I was glad to share the Alton Bay experience with Mark and Joe. All in all, a good flying adventure to kick off 2025.

Still, I could have done without the flat tire.