You KRANT Get There from Here

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

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.

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..." 

ForeFlight depiction of my filed route home starting at BELTS.

ForeFlight depiction of the cleared route home starting at KRANT.

As I processed this, I realized that the new route was essentially the same as filed except that it started at KRANT instead of BELTS (see above). KRANT is deeper within the FRZ than College Park, whereas BELTS is just outside.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

Sunset at Saratoga

Over the Land of the Waving Grass

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
08 May 2026	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - 5B2 (Saratoga Springs, NY) - SDC	3.0	3146.2

I hummed smoothly through the sky, deep blue above and below, finally, green. Warm colors, gentle air, and a mile high perspective on a vast world world accented by exquisitely clear air. These things were restorative for the soul. Tension drained from my shoulders with every mile, diffused into the very air holding me aloft.

Oneida Lake near Syracuse, NY.

Following a week of long hours, I departed work an hour early on Friday to take to the sky. Kristy had an event that night and I was on my own. Seeking exploration and dinner, a simple $100 hamburger run to a new destination fit the need and Warrior 481s nose parted the sky in the direction of Saratoga  Springs, NY. Just a week earlier, a new restaurant opened on the field: Sunset at Saratoga Kitchen & Bar.

Peck Lake near Gloversville, NY.

My first visit to the Saratoga Country Airport (5B2) occurred in 2013 when I flew the so-called "JetHiking Gypsy" there for the next leg of her nation-spanning odyssey by general aviation. I wonder what became of her?

Great Sacandaga Lake north of Amsterdam, NY.
"Sacandaga" is a Mohawk word meaning "Land of the Waving Grass".

A full decade passed before returning to Saratoga Springs in 2023, this time as a college visit with The Bear. She was long enamored with Skidmore during her college search and we made multiple visits, once by airplane. We arrived in Saratoga Springs after a beautiful flight through a painted cloudscape, ultimately flying an instrument approach in the rain after sunset to Saratoga County Airport. From the FBO, we could see that a significant construction project was under way on the next apron over.

X Marks the Spot

Saratoga County Airport is one of those "X marks the spot" kind of airports with crossing runways. Aside from a Commander 114 that landed a few minutes ahead of me, UNICOM was quiet at Saratoga.

Sectional chart depicting Saratoga County Airport.

Though the airport has an automated weather observation system (AWOS) on the field, I had no weather information until within range of the broadcast on 132.025 MHz. No METARs are pushed from Saratoga Springs because of the airport's non-ICAO compliant (number containing) identifier. This limitation is the same reason why South Haven and Williamson-Sodus changed their identifiers from 0D1 and 3G7 to LWA and SDC, respectively. Now, weather conditions at both can be found with other METARs and captured by FIS-B unlinked weather, whereas Saratoga Springs weather cannot.

Saratoga County Airport (5B2).

I entered the pattern for runway 23 on a crosswind to get some aerial photographs of the facility.

In 2023, we tied down outside the FBO building, a large blue hangar since repurposed as a maintenance facility. The new terminal building had a modernized lodge aesthetic and wrapped partway around a massive hangar with solar panels on the roof. Transient parking was located along taxiway C. Saratoga Springs is also popular with soaring enthusiasts and a large number of glider trailers are visible at the top of frame.

Just in case a geographically befuddled pilot happened to be lurking overhead, the apron left little doubt about one's location.

I parked next to the Commander and walked to the terminal with a member of the line crew from North American Flight Service who explained that the new terminal building opened last summer. He was personally delighted about the new restaurant. I was not charged any fees for landing or parking and all staff members I interacted with greeted me warmly.

Popular

Sunset at Saratoga is a perfect name for the new restaurant. Occupying the second floor of the terminal building with westward facing windows and balcony, it is beautifully set to frame sunsets for diners.

I arrived at 7:00 pm and discovered that the new venue was popular enough that there was a long line for entrance. I waited thirty minutes for a table. Owner Mike Speranza earnestly flitted about his new establishment, personally greeting all comers, cleaning off tables, and seating patrons. I did not see evidence of other fly-in guests, but that's actually a good thing. I am convinced that a critical ingredient  for a successful airport restaurant venture is an ability to draw street traffic. Basing a business model on fickle pilots subject to fickle weather is simply not sustainable.

The dinner menu offers varied fare from wings and salads to burgers to steak and shrimp scampi. Because I am my Scottish grandmother’s grandson, I went with the fish and chips, which I enjoyed. To my mind, airport restaurants come in two “flavors”. Most are basic diners, some quite good, but otherwise nothing fancy. Cream of the crop airport eateries, on the other hand, are the kinds of places you take passengers you want to impress, like the anxious spouse of a new private pilot. Sunset at Saratoga falls into this latter category. Based on my experience, I highly recommend it and wish Mike the best!

Elegantly Appointed

After dinner, I explored the new terminal facility before returning to the sky. Saratoga County (5B2) has the most elegant terminal building I have ever seen for an airport that still has numbers in its identifier!

In case anyone required a reminder that Saratoga Springs is in horse country, the terminal clearly boasts of this status with bold splashes of red in the facility's otherwise neutral ambiance. Other nonverbal hints of this include the four large oval racetracks depicted around Saratoga Springs on the sectional chart.

An overhead light display in the lobby was suggestive of terrain contours and clearly not an off the shelf item. But when I consulted a map, I could find no obvious corresponding local topography.

A deep blue shade of western sky reaffirmed that it was time to head home.

I returned to my airplane through the airside entrance from North American Flight Services.

During the warmer months, the west-facing balcony will be a wonderful place to dine and take in the sunset.

Ready to go!

Nerd Paradise

Great Sacandaga Lake.

The first half of my flight home occurred under a deep blue sky that transitioned to crimson at the horizon as though the air was somehow energized along the edge of the world.

Reflected sunlight from Venus shone brilliantly from millions of miles away, appearing long before the pointillistic illumination of the even more distant stars. Below in deep shadow cast by the horizon, terrestrial constellations twinkled brightly, shielded from the twilight.

My watch buzzed with an incoming text from Tom. "Late evening. I see you are on your way home. How was dinner??"

"Cruising along, autopilot on, air is dead calm, watching traffic on I-90, listening to a soundtrack mix from various Star Trek movies. I'm in nerd paradise," I responded.

Suspended in a quiescent atmospheric ocean, I watched the world pass by my windows. As twilight faded, natural features of the land disappeared, replaced by illuminated traces of civilization. At night, natural features can only be perceived in the negative spaces.

I proceeded home across an inverse dot matrix landscape to touch down at 10:00 pm after a very satisfying evening of flight. After months of poor weather and chaotically churning air, it was a joy to just...fly. No (significant) weather planning needed, no technical IFR flight to conduct, no constant control corrections to keep the airplane pointed in the right direction. Just a pilot, an airplane, and the physics needed to make it all work out.

Call of the Red-Legged Kittiwake

Even simple flights, in addition to the personal joy they bring, are opportunities for valuable learnings.

Bear Hug

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
24 Apr 2026	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - 7B2 (Northampton, MA)	2.0	3139.3

I crested terrain west of Northampton, MA to behold the Connecticut River meandering through cultivated fields that glowed warmly with golden hour sunlight. Nestled in a bend of the river was the Northampton Airport (7B2, airport #300), an idyllic country landing field near the foundations of the Holyoke range. At 5:45 pm on a Friday evening, I expected to discover an airport in repose. Instead, I was surprised to find three aircraft belonging to the field's active flight school orbiting in the pattern.

I was greeted warmly by FBO staff and assured that my selected parking spot was appropriate for an overnight stay. I always worry about inadvertently parking on someone else's tiedown at new to me airports. Moments later, I saw a familiar blue Impreza arrive in the parking lot. The Bear has never been much of a hugger, but the literal bear hug that I received from my daughter upon seeing her for the first time since January made the whole trip worthwhile.

With The Bear's expert assistance, we dressed Warrior 481 in her pajamas for the night before driving to Mount Holyoke College, just seventeen minutes south. I enjoyed the unfamiliar reversal, me as a passenger with The Bear at the wheel. Five months of driving in Massachusetts had transformed her confidence as a driver. As we ate in the dining hall, The Bear handed me an iPad filled with images from a recent dance recital that she photographed as a paid gig. She was proud of them and justifiably so. She has developed a wonderful eye for photography.

In Recognition of a Hectic Week

Rhode Island State House during my Providence walkabout on the morning of April 23.

Neither Kristy nor I were able to attend most of the orchestra concerts during her first year of college until this final one, Symphonic Possibilities. Even so, Kristy had work obligations that evening which meant that I made solo use of the airplane to expedite the journey. At the end of a hectic week, I was acutely aware of carrying accumulated fatigue.

On Tuesday, a colleague and I worked a half day before flying the Warrior to Providence, RI for a conference that I had been invited to chair. As chair, I was "on" for two days straight, including a late night reception on Wednesday. I managed to explore a few miles of Providence on foot Thursday morning and was charmed enough by the city that I am considering excuses to return and explore further. Once the Thursday sessions concluded, we returned to Atlantic Aviation-PVD, incidentally the only FBO that has ever charged me an hourly parking fee, and flew the Warrior back to Sodus. Friday began with an early start back at work, but I departed two hours early and flew to Massachusetts for my meeting with The Bear. I effectively tread back over the same territory as the day before, just in reverse and on a slightly divergent heading. An orchestra concert was just the kind of pause that I needed to rejuvenate at week's end.

After dinner, The Bear and I parted while she prepared for the concert. Solo, I walked the campus to compensate for the excessive amount of sitting I did over the preceding three days. Mount Holyoke's campus is truly lovely and the upper half of the Mary Lyon Hall clock tower was particularly striking when painted crimson by the setting sun. The Bear boasted that a publication (I forget which one) had named Mount Holyoke among the most beautiful campuses in the country. I agreed, but cautioned that Indiana would be tough competition in that category.

The Red-Legged Kittiwake

Mount Holyoke's orchestra performs in the campus chapel. It's a lovely space with a rather "live" sound for orchestra reminiscent of some European church venues The Bear played on tour in 2022 and 2024. It also has the most uncomfortable pews I've ever experienced and my back was upset with me by the time the two hour concert concluded. That pew ensured that I did not doze, which was quite likely its original intent.

The Bear and her soul piercing gaze with the Mount Holyoke Orchestra. Photo by V.

During intermission, I was greeted by The Bear's roommate, V, who expertly wielded The Bear's camera to photograph the concert. She described one of her shots as The Bear "looking directly into my soul." There was no mistaking that one when The Bear shared the photo later.

Composer and director acknowledging their love for the oboe. Photo by V.

That evening's program included a world premiere student composition entitled Hymn to the Third Death. Thematically focused on conservation of endangered bird species, the composer described for us how she used different instrumentation to give voice to individual birds. For the atmospheric first movement, she prominently featured the oboe to represent the red-legged kittiwake.

"We love you, oboe!" she exclaimed, turning around to look at The Bear. The director, Tian, also spun around, fixated on The Bear, and waved enthusiastically, a delightful moment that V captured perfectly from the chapel's choir loft.

Into the Soup

 

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
24 Apr 2026	N21481	7B2 (Northampton, MA) - SDC (Sodus, NY)	2.3	3141.6

I slept well that night, the kind of deep, unbroken sleep enhanced by exhaustion. I rose refreshed at my usual time and set about flight planning. I expected rain and low ceilings at home, but was satisfied that the air temperature aloft would remain high enough to avert any icing risk. Before I departed for Massachusetts, forecasts for my return suggested low IFR conditions after 11:00 am that could shut me out of Sodus. However, that morning's revised predictions called for higher ceilings and removed the time urgency for departure. Even so, I optimistically filed an IFR flight plan home with an 8:00 am departure time.

Waiting outside of "Blanche".

I departed the hotel in Chicopee, stopping to top off the gas in The Bear's car before meeting her at Blanchard Hall (nicknamed "Blanche" by the students) for breakfast. It was an early start and, clearly, most students were still asleep. We enjoyed a substantially less crowded and quieter meal than dinner the evening prior. For her part, The Bear was game to meet for an early breakfast, but warned that it would be in her pajama pants. That seemed like a fine compromise to me.

Back at the Northampton Airport, I checked in at the FBO and offered to pay the overnight tie down fee. "Nah, don't worry about it," responded the young woman working the counter. Outside, I paused to contemplate a little wooden airplane that was just big enough. Following my gaze, the Bear knew what I was thinking before I even asked it. She is such a good sport.

For a moment, I thought I was at Re-Dun.

There is nothing quite like a professionally striped sidewalk. The Bear helped me with the Warrior's canopy cover and we stood at the airplane talking for a long time, neither of us wanting to end the conversation. When I saw that it was nearly 9:00 am, I realized that I needed to go.

Runway 14 at Northampton points directly at the Holyoke range. Kristy and I hiked one of those peaks with The Bear on parent's weekend last October. To the right is Mount Holyoke itself, for which the college is named. Barely visible is the Summit House, the final destination for MHC students on Mountain Day each fall. I wish my employer had Mountain Day. I suppose we would need to find a mountain, first. Not many of those in Rochester.

I was airborne at 9:00 am. Though the river valley no longer glowed in golden hour light, I was sure to photograph the airport's surroundings before turning westbound on course and picking up an IFR clearance with Bradley Approach. Despite the fact that I was out in the sticks, I was surprised to receive a full route clearance, albeit a simple one.

"Cherokee 481, cleared to destination via Albany, Syracuse, direct."

It seems like whenever I file an airway route, I get cleared direct and whenever I file direct, I am assigned an airway route.

The Connecticut River, the Northampton Airport, Northampton, and Mount Tom.

As I passed over the idyllic little airport, student activity was already beginning to stir on the surface.

The first 1.3 hours of flight were lovely with blue skies above and occasional scattered clouds below my 6,000 foot cruise altitude.

Albany, NY.

"Corruption's such an old song that we can sing along in harmony
And nowhere is it stronger than in Albany." - Hamilton

I took notice of the Albany skyline for the first time, seeing a curious array of four identical skyscrapers aligned in a row. I noticed them earlier that week on the eastbound flight to Providence because they stood out from quite a distance against the backdrop of the Berkshire Mountains.

Between Albany and Syracuse, the first herald of weather materialized below, becoming progressively denser as I continued westbound. The overcast thickened as well, followed by the occasional streaks of individual raindrops on the windscreen, soon joined by many more, until I found myself watching the hypnotic flow of rain sluicing over the wings' upper camber. I remained in total IMC and rain for the final 0.8 hour of the flight home.

I entered the rain east of Syracuse. From FlightAware.

Superiority Complex

At my home airport, the automated weather observation system (AWOS) dutifully reported a consistent cloud ceiling of 3,000 to 3,200 feet above ground level (AGL). Based on this, I expected that Rochester would descend me below the deck (the minimum vectoring altitude near Sodus is 2,000 feet) where I could fly a standard VFR traffic pattern to land. No instrument approach necessary.

However, despite constant reassurances of VFR weather from the Sodus AWOS, Rochester was reporting IFR conditions with ceilings closer to 800 feet. Runway 4 was in use by landing traffic at Rochester, but the glideslope equipment was out of service. This meant that the ILS (instrument landing system) lacked vertical guidance that morning and could not guide aircraft quite as low below the clouds as usual. Rochester ATC was actively seeking alternatives.

"Brickyard 123," called Rochester Approach to an inbound airliner. "Are you LPV capable?" LPV (localizer performance with vertical guidance) is essentially the GPS-equivalent to an ILS. It's the gold standard of GPS based instrument approaches. Warrior 481 has been LPV capable since I first upgraded to the GNS 430W navigator in 2012.

"Negative," responded the airliner. That pilot promptly requested delay vectors while the flight crew figured out the best way to get into Rochester.

Better than some airliners, evidently. Photographed the prior evening en route to Northampton.

Ooo! Ooo! Mr. Kotter! I can! But I had no interest in landing at Rochester except as an alternate if the weather was too low at Sodus. Given the AWOS broadcasts, I did not anticipate that to be the case.

"SkyWest 456," responded Rochester Approach to another airliner checking on. "Are you LPV capable?"

"Negative," responded the Skywest pilot.

How is it that my Cherokee is better equipped than a bunch of these airliners?

"November 481," called Rochester. "Say approach request at Sodus." With a stiff wind out of the northeast, I requested the RNAV-10 approach starting at ZIKED. My thinking was that if I could fly the procedure on my own from an initial approach fix (IAF), ATC would not have to vector me to final while juggling a bunch of airliners at Rochester with reduced ability to navigate below the weather.

"November 481, expect that," responded the controller. With a few taps on the face of the GTN 650, the approach procedure was ready to go.

Can't Get There from Here

"November 481, I can't clear you to ZIKED. Can you accept vectors?" I can always accept vectors, but I was puzzled by this response. Why could the controller not clear me to ZIKED?  And why would he choose to vector me onto the final approach into Sodus when he already had his hands full at Rochester?

Flabbergasted, I accepted vectors to final.

Rochester assigned a descent to 2,600 feet and began issuing headings. First slightly to the southwest to widen me out from the airport, then to bring me around. Despite the AWOS claiming a 3,000 foot  ceiling, I was still engulfed in the clouds at 2,600' (roughly 2,200' AGL).

"November 481, fly heading 010," Rochester instructed. They were turning me perpendicular to the final approach course, which meant that I would receive one more vector before being cleared to intercept the final approach course. That final vector came sooner than expected.

ForeFlight ground track of the approach into Sodus.

While only partway through the turn to 010°, Rochester called back and blurted out the rest of the clearance. "Aaaaand, 481, go ahead and keep the turn going to 070, intercept the final approach course, cleared for the RNAV-10 approach at Sodus." To my ear, the controller's patter seemed to speed up as he delivered this instruction, from "conversational" to something approaching "auctioneer". It was as though talking faster would somehow increase the Warrior's rate of turn.

Flying on autopilot (literally, not mentally), I rolled the heading bug to 070° and punched the APR button to capture the final approach segment. I was too close to the final (hence the controller's hasty delivery) and overshot slightly (visible in the above track), but HAL smoothly rolled the airplane into a successful intercept. I crossed the final approach fix (FAF) just as I established on final, pulled the throttle back to achieve a 90 knot, 500 foot per minute descent, and locked in 10° of flaps.

Well past the final approach fix, I was still engulfed in the clouds and wondered if I would need to abort and fly the much advertised LPV approach into Rochester that morning. But I broke out at 900 feet above the ground, deactivated the autopilot, and made a smooth touchdown on runway 10 in steady rain.

I guess I needed to fly that instrument approach after all! On its dedicated frequency, the nearsighted AWOS continued to blather on about a 3,000 foot ceiling.

Why?

Overall, the 5.3 hour round trip flight to Northampton was an overwhelming success. It was my 300th unique airport, I reunited with The Bear, enjoyed a wonderful orchestra concert, and logged additional real world IMC experience with the GTN 650 Xi. But two lingering questions still nagged at me.

1. Is my little airplane really better equipped for LPV approaches than many airliners?

2. Why could the controller not clear me to ZIKED and why would he choose to vector me when he clearly had his hands full at the main airport?

I reached out to a friend and supervising air traffic controller at Rochester for answers. As it turned out, he was on duty that morning and remembered the scenario well.

Yes, he confirmed, many of the airliners that come into Rochester do not have WAAS GPS receivers and are not LPV capable. As strange as it sounds, my Warrior can fly low LPV approaches that an inbound Delta A321 might not be able to manage.

Further, he explained that my tight downwind to the airport meant that a turn at ZIKED would have exceeded 90°. (In terms of heading change, not bank angle!) ATC is prohibited from clearing aircraft direct to a fix on an RNAV approach where such a turn is required. He commented that they could have provided a short vector to the southwest, then cleared me to ZIKED, but the controller chose to vector me the rest of the way instead. Alternatively, they could have cleared me to GOYER for the procedure turn, but because it adds workload and flight time for pilots, they tend to assign that only if a pilot requests it. 

In the end, the flight entailed all of those wonderful things already mentioned (The Bear! Concert! Experience!) but included valuable learning, too!