Ultimate Geocaching

Daybreak in Wolcott, NY

Sunbeams were made tangible by residual morning haze and highlighted the chaotic flight paths of swarming mosquitos. The Bear and I prowled through the woods, moving cautiously as the ground was obscured by knee deep undergrowth that hid dead tree limbs and other traps to make footing treacherous. Pushing past branches, occasionally snagged by thorns, we made our own path. Deeper into the woods, our footfalls began to squelch as the ground softened on the edge of a marshy area.

The Bear held her phone before her like a digital divining rod. "I think it's that way," she offered in a tone that fell short of sounding confident. We had searched for twenty minutes, both of us silently contemplating the possibility that our foray into the woods that morning might be for nothing.

Eventide Glory

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
08 Jun 2026	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - local flight	0.7	3159.9

It was a throwback flight, the kind I used to make frequently from South Haven, MI during my first year as an aircraft owner. I was aloft near dusk, camera at the ready, hoping to capture a glorious sunset over a Great Lake.

Mother nature did not disappoint.

While repositioning myself over Sodus Bay, I was struck by the sharply defined anti-twilight arch and watched as it was gradually swallowed by deep blue from below, the growing shadow of Earth cast on its own atmosphere.

I brought the Warrior back around toward Lake Ontario and was struck by the crystalline blue above, tangerine sunset hues smudged by clouds, and glassy water of the bay mirroring residual light from what was otherwise a world already in shadow.

I captured the evening's last gasp as it spread across the horizon in a shade approaching the visible spectrum's very edge. Deeply satisfied, I switched off my trusty Canon and safely cached it in a protective case

Damn you, Bernoulli

When I noticed a vibrant ruby coloring reflected by my wing, I decided to get one last picture. Having already packed away the Canon, I knew that the iPhone would suffice.

Over Manhattan, 21 July 2024, photographing through the open window. Photo by Alyssa.

I have been taking pictures from aircraft for longer than I have been a pilot, more than twenty-five years. I am often asked how I manage to capture such clear images and the answer is simple: I take them through an open window whenever possible. The next question people usually ask is, "Have you ever lost anything out the window?"

Of course not. 

Not in twenty-five years.

I opened the small pilot side vent window and heard the familiar rushing sound of the airplane's slipstream as it flowed past. I positioned my iPhone to take a shot and as I moved to snap a picture...

Ffffff...WHOOOOOSH!

White noise of the slipstream was momentarily interrupted and a small black rectangle raced aft, barely tracked in my peripheral vision, and then it was gone. Literally plucked from my hands. 

That did not just happen.

But it did. I moved through the stages of grief rather quickly, but dawdled in denial. I achieved acceptance before touching down softly at Sodus with one of those landings so aerodynamically pure that they only happen when no one is around to witness them.

Dumb Luck

(With emphasis on "dumb")

My Apple watch is cellular enabled, so once back at the airport, I called Kristy.

"Hi! When you track me, where do I show up?" I asked brightly.

My wife was immediately suspicious. I sounded too chipper for 9:00 at night, but she investigated anyway. "You're in...Wolcott?"

"Really?" I said. "And is that an old position or is it showing that it's live?"

"It's live," she confirmed.

I laughed and explained to my puzzled wife what had happened. When I was done, and because Kristy had me on speaker, I could hear The Bear laughing in the background. If the phone was broadcasting live, that meant two things. First, it was unbroken despite a 2,600 foot fall from an airplane. Second, it did not make a water landing in Lake Ontario, which was a distinct possibility given my position over the shoreline.

Kristy was not laughing. "I'm glad the two of you think this is funny."

Screenshot from The Bear showing my phone in Wolcott, NY.

Moments later, I received this screen shot from The Bear. My iPhone had landed in a woods just east of Chimney Bluffs State Park. It had missed Lake Ontario (barely), a marsh to the east (also barely), and East Bay Road to the west (even more barely).

There would be no point in tramping through the woods that night and no one was going to stumble across it where it fell. "Hey, Little Bear, want to go on an adventure tomorrow morning?"

Naturally, The Bear was game.

Kristy snorted and predicted that we would get arrested for trespassing.

Ping!

And so, The Bear and I found ourselves in Wolcott, NY at 8:00 am the next morning after nearly an hour drive to the east edge of Chimney Bluffs State Park. I planned to use The Bear's phone to get close, then ping the iPhone with my Apple watch. Calling the phone would not be productive, I perpetually keep it in silent mode. I did not know it at the time, but at some point, "Find My" had been deactivated on the phone. It could not be tracked as a device, could not be wiped remotely, and could not be made to emit an audible locating ping with The Bear's phone. Despite that, my phone's location still showed when anyone in my family tried to track me as an individual and that tenuous thread led us to Wolcott that morning.

We contemplated the dense woods from East Bay Road and I tried pinging the phone with my watch, but received an error that no phone was detected. It was clearly out of Bluetooth range. I had not anticipated that problem, but it made sense in hindsight. We just needed to get closer. Fortunately, the phone battery was still going after a night in the woods and The Bear still showed a live position for "me".

For twenty minutes we picked our way through the treacherous undergrowth. Though the mosquitos were swarming, they were young and remained below waist height, clinging impotently to our pants and completely ignoring our exposed faces. Our position on The Bear's phone screen bounced around, but she led us forward as I made periodic attempts to ping the phone.

Beginning to wonder if it was all for naught, I tapped the "ping iPhone" icon for the fifth time. This time, I did not receive an error. After a brief delay...

CLANG CLANG CLANG-CLANG!

The Bear and I locked eyes in triumph. I continued pinging the phone and we followed the sound. Tens of feet deep into the small forest, our shoes squelching through the muddy terrain, The Bear suddenly stopped and pointed. "There it is!"

Beneath some dense growth lay the iPhone, screen up and reflecting indirect morning light.

The Bear scrambled into the undergrowth, then backed herself out while proudly brandishing the errant smart phone. It was muddy, but otherwise completely unscathed and fully functional.

Victory!

Lake Ontario.

The Bear and I walked to Lake Ontario and cleaned the mud from our shoes.

We commemorated the moment with a beach selfie (from my recovered iPhone, of course) before starting the long drive back home. The Bear was very pleased with herself for putting her geocaching skills to practical application. 

The smartest thing I did during the whole incident was re-enable "Find My" on the phone.

Epilogue: Ten Feet, Eh?

At home, I dismantled the svelte case that protected my phone after it plummeted 2,600 feet. I was amused to note that the inside of the case was embossed with "10 feet drop-tested". 

Clearly, I am an overachiever.

But, you know, in a really dumb way.

It's a Wonderful Airport

"Well, I've wrestled with reality for thirty-five years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it."

-- Jimmy Stewart as Elwood P. Dowd in Harvey (1950). 

Arm Twisting

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
11 Nov 2010	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - IDI (Indiana, PA) - SDC	3.8	3157.2

"Have you been to the Jimmy Stewart Museum?"

In 2023, I visited the confoundingly named Indiana, Pennsylvania for the first time and enjoyed breakfast at the airport's Riziki Cafe ("Nittany Hoosiers"). When asked about the local museum honoring Indiana's favorite son, beloved actor, pilot, and Brigadier General James Maitland Stewart, I confessed that I had not visited. "You should visit sometime, it's a really good museum." This was a common refrain from everyone I met that day who pegged me as a transient.

I responded with a breezy, "Oh sure, maybe next time." It was an empty promise because the museum was not something that immediately sparked my interest.

Three years later, that august institution was added to the schedule of Williamson Flying Club Activities Committee events (not by me). I remained ambivalent about the Jimmy Stewart Museum, but perhaps a bit more inclined to going.

When more members signed up to attend than we had pilots to fly them, I leaned in a bit more, if for no greater reason than to help out. Plus, it was an excuse to fly.

Next, I received a text from from friend and regular past copilot Alyssa whom I had not seen since August 2025 when she moved out of state. "Hi! Are you doing the fly-out on May 30th?" She would be back in town, was no longer club current to fly one of the airplanes, and looking for a ride.

"I haven't decided, but if I go, a seat is all yours," I promised without really making any kind of commitment.

It was as if the universe was twisting my arm to see this vaunted museum dedicated to the star of It's a Wonderful Life. Maybe I had an angel (second class) looking out for my best interests. Nearly a month passed before I messaged her that I had decided to go. Along the way, I picked up a second passenger, new member and student pilot Chris who soloed the day before our foray to Indiana... er... Pennsylvania... er... Indiana in Pennsylvania.

Easy IFR

Chris, Alyssa, and me in Warrior 481.

Dan and Elizabeth were aboard Dan's RV-8 and made the trip VFR by finding a hole in the ceiling that hovered over New York state, then proceeding southbound at "ludicrous speed". The weather was in a sweet spot for easy IFR, with ceilings high enough to depart Sodus VFR for an airborne clearance pickup, but low enough to merit the extra effort of filing. This was the path Ed and I chose for our flights. After our trip to Michigan together, IFR flying was not new to Alyssa, but it was Chris' first time experiencing IFR in a GA airplane.

We climbed to 6,000 feet and skimmed through the cloud tops in a way that always feels genuinely cinematic, like that opening scene to The Right Stuff. Once over the rolling green no-man's-land that is north central Pennsylvania, the clouds finally began to break up.

En route, we passed over the top of St Marys Airport (KOYM).

After years of club fly-outs flying one of the fastest Cherokees in the fleet (an oxymoron, I know), it felt strange to be left in the proverbial dust by Ed's Cherokee Six and Dan's RV-8. We arrived at Indiana County / Jimmy Stewart Airport (KIDI) last. I wish I could say that the landing was awesome, but that was not the case.

As Chris, Alyssa, and I emerged from Warrior 481, Ed met us at the trailing edge of the wing. "You're not used to being the slowest airplane in the group," he observed.

Ya read my mind, Ed! Stop doing that.

Using Warrior 481 as a tripod, I caught a group photo of soon to be Jimmy Stewart acolytes (minus myself): Ed, Alyssa, Chris, Dan, Jonathan, and Elizabeth.

A pair of T-34 Mentors were also parked on the ramp. These are tandem seat military trainer versions of the Beech Model 35 Bonanza that swapped a conventional cabin for a birdcage canopy. Dan remarked that they arrived in formation while he was landing, their overhead break casting fast moving shadows that raced across the runway pavement in front of him.

Ross, the same lineman who first encouraged me to visit the museum in 2023, set us up with the airport van, which was the perfect size to transport our group into town, if somewhat cozily.

Americana

Indiana, PA is picture perfect. As quaint as it is clean, it could almost be a movie set, a perfectly crafted example of a quintessential American town.

The Jimmy Stewart Museum occupies the top floor of the public library building.

Forget the Oscars, the Distinguished Flying Cross, and the Bendix Trophy. True recognition of a noteworthy life comes by way of being the subject of one of these historical markers. Well...that and having an entire museum focused on you.

Evidently, the public library has a pilot section!

It's a nice thought, but the moon does not seem particularly happy about it.

On Jimmy Stewart

Long story short, our time at the museum was well spent and I was happy that the Activities Committee and my friends twisted my arm enough to persuade me to go. Stewart was an inspiring and interesting individual.

This is a reading museum. Stewart's life is described through artifacts, photographs, and many written stories. Roughly half of the museum is dedicated to Stewart's film career. The other half describes his military service and personal life, from small town beginnings to Oscar winner and decorated B-24 Liberator pilot to earning the Presidential Medal of Freedom under President Reagan.

A Super Simplex 35 mm film projector, introduced in 1928.

Stewart was the first Hollywood leading man to enlist in the military for World War II. Initially rejected because he was underweight, stories vary on how he was ultimately accepted for service, which suggested that maybe he had a little surreptitious help.

Already a private pilot, Stewart joined the United States Army Air Corps (forerunner to the United States Air Force) and rose from private to colonel in four short years. Stewart served as a military flight instructor before transferring to the European theater and flying twenty missions over Germany as pilot of a B-24 Liberator bomber, earning the Distinguished Flying Cross during that time. Post war, he remained active with the Air Force Reserve and retired in 1968 at the rank of brigadier general.

Several halls were adorned with posters and other items from Stewarts 80 films.

In 1949, Joe De Bona flew modified P-51C Thunderbird co-owned with Stewart from Van Nuys, CA to Cleveland, OH to win the Bendix Trophy. A photo from Life magazine showed the two men standing before the Mustang with a pile of parts at their feet that were removed for the sake of speed. Stewart's Bendix trophy was sent back to Indiana, PA for display in his father's hardware store window, right next to his Oscar for The Philadelphia Story.

After the war, Stewart doubted his ability to act again after all that he had seen and experienced. His return to Hollywood was the starring role in Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life. Despite its wide recognition as a classic, the film received only middling interest when it was released. Nonetheless, an understanding of Stewart's struggles during filming adds a new layer of depth to his portrayal of George Bailey.

Harvey got his own corner. What? Can't you see him?

There is much more to learn in the Jimmy Stewart Museum and I won't spoil it all here. With time and an airplane to get there, it is worth a visit. The museum clearly has a relationship with the Stewart biopic set for release in November 2026 that is simply called Jimmy. Previews and behind the scenes footage for the upcoming film underpinned by what I learned at the museum that day have certainly whet my appetite for it. The movie describes the period of Stewart's life between winning the Best Actor Oscar for the 1940 film The Philadelphia Story through his experiences as a WWII bomber pilot to the making of It's a Wonderful Life.

Riziki Cafe

We piled back into the van, cringing at the noises made by each application of the brakes. Fortunately, the van managed to grind -- literally -- to a stop whenever commanded.

A long lost Cessna 310 once belonging to Jimmy Stewart has been located, restored, and now serves as both a profoundly relevant gate guardian for the airport and as a highly unusual weathervane.

Jimmy Stewart display at the Indiana County / Jimmy Stewart Airport.

The Riziki Cafe was hopping at lunchtime and everyone in our group enjoyed their sandwiches. Featuring good food paired with friendly service, our Riziki Cafe experience matched my impressions from three years prior and I was pleased to see the business thriving.

Dan's RV-8 parked just outside the airport terminal.

Homeward Bound

Hemlock Lake, one of the smaller Finger Lakes south of Rochester.

There may have been up to a 30 knot headwind on the way home and we may have been flying beneath the clouds and there may have been a bump or two. But it was an undeniably beautiful day to fly and I relished hand flying my airplane in the company of friends, both old and new. Thanks to the folks of Indiana, PA for their hospitality and their eagerness to share stories of the life of their most renowned citizen. Thanks also to my unseen guardian angel for directing me there. I hope that bell rings for you soon!

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.