Flying in the Big Apple Reinforces Love for the City

Last week, I made a flight that surprised even me, as far as the amount of trust, freedom, and length of leash. Demian Neufeld, a close friend and pilot, asked me if I wanted to do a formation flight down the Hudson River. He was finishing up his complex rating in a Cessna 182 RG and he and his CFI, Leslie Cruz, flew up to my home field of Sullivan County (KMSV) in Swan Lake, New York, where we both took fuel and planned our adventure. The plan was for Demian, a professional photographer, to shoot my aircraft with a long lens from the Cessna’s right seat while Leslie was PIC. We discussed frequencies—there were many. We would use 122.75 to talk discreetly between our aircraft, and 123.05 is the self-announcing CTAF frequency for the Hudson River SFRA. Newark (KEWR) and LaGuardia (KLGA) towers would be used to request the East River transition. 

Then there was the flying itself. I have only really exercised extended slow flight on the Fisk Arrival into Oshkosh, Wisconsin, four years ago. Otherwise, my Bonanza does not enjoy sub-100 kias flight unless we are about to land or have just taken off. She likes to go. The flying I did this summer in Montana was extremely helpful. I was forced to slow down to make the short grass strips that do not reward an extra 10 knots on final. Departing KMSV, I announced our departure then let Leslie handle the radios moving forward—every transmission beginning with “Flight of two…”

Flying at 3,500 msl southbound toward the Tappan Zee Bridge, we practiced formation flying. Leslie instructed me to hold different speeds as we looked for a sweet spot the two aircraft could share. At first I thought I would use my Garmin GFC500 that allows for IAS holds. It took me about five seconds to remember my plane does not have autothrottles and that, if I use the airspeed function to hold 100 kias, that means not holding 3,500 feet. If you use altitude hold instead, then you’re not going to remain at 100 knots. 

It’s like the old contractor adage: You can have it done well, fast, or cheap—pick two. 

I remembered from Oshkosh that the ole girl held the required 90 kias with about 10 degrees of flaps and a low power setting. On this day, 16 inches of manifold pressure and 8.5 gph put me at 100 kias. When I threw in a bit of flaps, I could hold 90 kias. 

Leslie and I were in sync as we approached the bridge. Descending below the Bravo airspace and joining the Hudson River Corridor at 1,000 msl, Demian gave me instructions so as to position myself for the perfect shot. Turn 10 degrees left. Speed up 5 knots. Descend 100 feet. As we flew south along the west bank of the Hudson, I listened as Leslie announced our flight of two past the mandatory reporting sites: George Washington Bridge, USS Intrepid, Clock Tower, Statue of Liberty, and Verrazano Bridge. As we passed Lady Liberty, I was struck by the level of freedom at play here—yes, I’m aware how overtly metaphoric this example is. Just go with it. We were flying personal aircraft in the busiest airspace on earth without even speaking to a controller. People constantly moan about regulation, but in the world of GA, conventional wisdom rules the day. It’s what I would describe as a responsible free-for-all. 

Once we passed the Verrazano, we switched to Newark tower to request the transition up the East River. This is a route I had never tried as it requires a Class B transition and communication with LaGuardia tower, whom we were quickly switched over to. Leslie handled the radios like the pro she is, and LaGuardia approved our flight of two, only asking me to turn my transponder to standby. That was a first. Took me a second just to figure out how to do it. Our aircraft were so close I imagine they were avoiding the constant traffic warnings they would surely receive on their monitors.

We flew directly over Governors Island, then the Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Williamsburg bridges. I could see my apartment off the right wing. We requested a left turn over Central Park and it was approved. Leslie and I banked in unison, flying right over the reservoir. I could see Sheep Meadow and Strawberry Fields, places I had visited my entire life. I can remember multiple occasions laying on a blanket in Central Park as a teen, watching aircraft fly overhead, wondering what it looked like from up there. I was awed by the level of freedom and latitude we were given. In return, they expect you only to be proficient. We did not let them down.

Departing from my wingmates, I turned my transponder back on and flew north up the Hudson. Passing the Freedom Tower (One World Trade Center), I was a few hundred feet below and close enough to throw a baseball at it. I thought of the Twin Towers and how some bad actors had exploited the freedoms we enjoy in this great country—flight instruction for everyone, ease of commercial air travel, etc. But here I was, witnessing the spirit of general aviation undeterred, a resolute refusal to smother this beautiful privilege, with only a few more regulations in place to protect the masses. 

I love New York. 

This column first appeared in the January Issue 954 of the FLYING print edition.