Jump to content

defaid

Registered Users
  • Posts

    507
  • Joined

  • Days Won

    3

defaid last won the day on January 1

defaid had the most liked content!

Personal Information

  • Location
    Near EGCW
  • Occupation
    Industrial electronics, working for the man.

Interest

  • Interests
    Maintaining an enthusiasm for armchairs, cups of tea and jam donuts.

Simulators

  • Sims Used
    FS2004

Recent Profile Visitors

827 profile views

defaid's Achievements

Community Expert

Community Expert (6/7)

  • Posting Machine Rare
  • Very Popular Rare
  • Dedicated Rare
  • Reacting Well Rare
  • First Post Rare

Recent Badges

148

Reputation

  1. Can I just point out that if you're circumnavigating England and Scotland, you can't follow the coast all the way? D
  2. *Sigh* I'm definitely in the wrong plane. How long to fly the entire coast? This happened in 1986 around the UK. If the BBC are cooperating, the video should be embedded in their page but 1986... low res. The target time was apparently half an hour, though given 500 kt, I think that's just the BBC making stuff up. https://www.bbc.co.uk/archive/qed--round-britain-whizz/zms7rj6
  3. I should clarify that I meant the fourth stage would be d j's last. I'll be without her from Sydney onward. The maps for the fourth stage show the terrain rising to between 3000 - 5000 feet so we're a little higher than we were for the rest of the challenge. Makes a change from being drunk. Where we went. Smallfry is an easy plane to fly but, looking at some of the other contestants' times, I wish again that we'd brought the Mosquito. I'll be doing the east coast run solo hence the change of method described below. I expect it to take around nine hours and who knows yet how many fuel stops. We adopted a slightly different approach to the timing this time. Hitherto I'd set the throttle and left it fixed so that each leg of each stage was planned at a slightly faster IAS. This time I made constant throttle adjustments in order to maintain the same IAS throughout the flight. It worked well, adding a minor task to the cruise but much simplifying the planning & timing. Our overall result for the entire fourth stage was 24 seconds late. No prizes for guessing who has a warehouse at the end of Bankstown's 11R. * * * * * * We leave Melbourne at 0002z, two minutes past our intended departure time. Off the ground at Moorabbin at 0004Z We're back to a world of two halves, all blue and gold, though as we progress generally eastward, the gold becomes increasingly green. The horizon a knifecut. Mangalore and Tocumwal go by without much disturbing us and, at 5000 feet, we probably didn't disturb them either. YMNG, YTOC and YNAR Somewhere between Narrandera and Parkes, as we cross a pond NE of West Wyalong, the south east horizon creases and we know we're coming to the last stretch of the stage. Over Parkes, eyeing the creased horizon. Passing overhead Forbes town, there's a Skylane on the radio. I watch the airport slide under my wing but never manage to spot the Cessna. There's a marked change of direction at Parkes: a right turn through 60° that puts higher ground right in front of us. d j tells me it's Orange but I'm sure that colour's called green. The ground a little closer. Orange town, Orange airport, left and right respectively. As the ground starts to rise, we fly into RAAF Richmond's weather which, aside from the wind, starts as more of the same: clear smooth air. Different terrain, different vegetation, different wind: there's a distinct sideways shuffle to our motion now with 10 kt of wind coming over the right wingtip and it's not long before we spot a dark line of hills ahead, complete with attendant cloud. Clouds and a dark line on the horizon. Bathurst passes less than half a mile below us but the ground is still rising. The timing is definitely easier when maintaining a steady airspeed. Seconds from Bathurst. The magazine New Scientist has a readers' questions section to which other readers can reply. I recall one letter asking why the bottoms of clouds are flat while the tops are bumpy. It was the only one I was ever able to answer. Blackheath & Katoomba's plateau ahead. At the smooth cloudbase, the air was all bouncy little thermals. d j points out similarities between the local and Welsh topography: a lot of the high ground tops out at the same altitude, with valleys cut into it. In English, it's "hilly" but the French call this ground "vallonnée": valleyed - approaching it from the opposite direction as it were. Try vallonnée on Google Translate though, and you'll find they give a context-based translation, offering 'hilly'... We aren't sure of the reason for the shape here but, assuming that it's still sandstone and other sedimentary stuff, we decide it must be rivers, which we confirm later with a map. It's accepted that in a lot of Wales most of the valleys were cut into what was originally flattish ground by glaciation and subsequent river erosion, and that the glaciers weren't around long enough to finish the job. Blackheath and Katoomba are on the plateau in the middle of the map, immediately south of the obvious scar of the Grose Valley. We cross the A32 between Blackheath and Katoomba, perfectly situated on the very edge of the plateau and we pass overhead a rather neglected Katoomba airfield. If you have FS9 with VOZ, keep an eye out for it. Mine may be missing something. Looking online later for the Grose Valley, the canyon that delimits the north eastern edge of the plateau, I found we'd arrived at much younger rocks -- Triassic sandstone around 250 million years young. Not much in Wales of that age; just a small sliver in the north east corner. If I ever visit NSW, Katoomba and the Grose Valley will both be on the list. Looking south over Katoomba perched on the edge. From there it was all down hill. We'd been intending to make a straight in approach to one of the 11s but at the last minute I decided to call Tower. They gave us 29L. "Oh, you idiot." "Yeah. Sorry." Better open the taps. Duly opened. Left downwind. It was a somewhat stressful approach and landing, fast and with only inches of tarmac to spare. Full stop at YBTH at 0408Z. We thought Katoomba was a possibility. I see it now
  4. Here's the plan for our run over to Sydney. Sedate ain't the word.
  5. Surely it could never happen to a lady like that?
  6. d j and I spent a couple of hours studying the last stage of the southern route. After staring at maps for a while, we both looked up and said "Screw that." The original route had again skirted all the interesting terrain in favour of unrestricted landing in case of a failure. In fact, looking at maps, it drew a good approximation of a huge DME arc around Australia's highest peak. Thinking back, we realised that the previous leg had also very adroitly avoided everything that deviated from the horizontal, sneaking between Mt Gambier and the Grampians before taking the flat ground between Warrnambool and Geelong. We weren't going to let that go. *** *** *** We both felt cheated by the absence of interesting terrain. Calculation for the final southern stage told us we'd probably have fuel for a deviation totalling around 260 nm. It added a couple of extra hours which was fine but the marginal fuel situation was unappealing. Further discussion, and knowing that this would be the last stage for d j, led to a modified plan. We both wanted something more challenging than a heading and a time. "Day off?" I nodded. "Let's be tourists." The plan was laid. Day trippers. We wandered off to find some lunch. I was disappointed not to have had a meat pie floater while I was in Adelaide. The owner of the nearest greasy spoon to the airport offered me a bung fritz but I wasn't sure what he meant so we left. We looked it up later. Bung fritz. #YouCanHaveMine *** *** *** 28th January. The following morning, the new race number is done so we take a taxi into town to pick it up. The smartarse printer has added a decimal point. We don't complain -- it matches the ever-increasing sortie stickers under my window. A rather more aggressive race number. By half past ten we're back in the Arrow and ready to do a little sightseeing. The weather has improved: fluffy white cumulus to break up the flat blue and a couple of degrees cooler with the wind blowing in over the bay. Battery on and the sweet sound of the gyro spinning up. The day involves 60 miles to Eildon Weir VOR (the 100 m waterfall doesn't appear in FS9) then double that to Corryong NDB, then south of east and sneak into the mountains looking for the big one. We've planned a return along the south side of the hills. Terrain, for a change, requires up to 6000'. Lumpy air at the cloud base. What it looks like and what it feels like. Eildon Weir VOR looks across to the 300 foot Snobs Creek Falls in the real world. Judging from photos it's not in a single fall but it does look like a nice spot. FS9 has a rather dull stream but at least the mesh is right. FS9 on a recce and what Google showed. Lake Eildon with a grillion campgrounds and marinas. Terrain rises ahead so we do too, to 5500' and smooth air once we've cleared the edge of the cloud. "Well, you've had your squint up the Snobs. It's time to climb." d j's view of the north side of the Alpine National Park. Yesterday, while we were deciding where to go, d j found reference to The Man from Snowy River. The statue at Corryong caught her imagination and it's enough to persuade us to stop there for lunch. The poem concerns a young chap, the only one of his band brave enough to take big risks for big wins. He became the prototypical national hero emerging from the dying days of British colonialism - a straight-up and courageous no-bullshit bush cowboy. Being British, we'd obviously never heard of him. Corryong town and airport are in the valley to the right and the NDB sits on the forested hill directly ahead. Wind 271@05 so probably a right downwind for runway 24. d j makes the call. Corryong NDB on the hill ahead. Gosh that happened in such a rush. Then I realised, 2× sim rate... The man and his horse, courtesy of Wikipedia After lunch we have a short hop around the north end of a little hill, over the border into NSW, through a gap to Khancoban hydro electric reservoir and through another to a small grass strip that lies on a longer and probably more interesting way up Australia's highest, Mount Kosciuszko, than the iron road & chairlift from the south. The mountain's name has had a difficult time in getting itself applied to the right lump. Wikipedia says "The confusion was straightened out in...". Not over here, it wasn't. The before start checklist says "Flightplan: review." d j says "We're departing in the wrong direction. That Cessna did a left pattern over the town. You can make a climbing right turn and head back onto track between the airfield and the NDB. "Flying outbound the NDB on 108° should take us north of the hill that's in front of us now, and through a gap to Khancoban. Hang a right over the reservoir and another saddle will spit us out right on final. "Don't mess up-- it's in a deep hole." Khancoban with transmission line wayleaves and Khancoban Pondage, the hydro-electric reservoir. Over the saddle. That's YGHI right on the nose. Time to slow down -- and drop all the flaps. And recheck the sim rate. It's a steep approach to a small field. Mount Kosciuszko is just behind the skyline and looks just the same. Steep approach to a small field. Backtracking. Quite a hole. After a very brief stroll, we make a rather claustrophobic departure from Geehi camp. All I could see was high ground. We've had Wagga Wagga's cavok for much of the northern half of the trip but Canberra's cloud adds spice for just a couple of miles either side of Geehi. We re-enter the Alpine National Park, immediately southwest of the Kosciuszko National Park. Forested hills up to 1800 m and sub-alpine habitat above that. I swear I can smell the air from this side of the monitor. When you're crossing the hills, it's very obvious why the B&H took the line it did. There's absolutely nowhere to let down. Homeward bound. RW time is getting late so we go back up to 6000' for the southern side of the Alpine NP and fly Livingstone radial 33 inbound. We skip Mount Hotham airport, which is just north of the VOR and miles from the mountain of the same name, and race back over the flattening and sinking ground following R-246 outbound until Melbourne comes up. Direct to ML 114.10 for a while then back to Moorabbin's NDB, to park up in time for drinks before dinner and the start of the final stage. Lining up on 17L.
  7. Thanks Tom. I'll stick with the Arrow for now and aim to time the whole lot. D
  8. @jgf your screenshots have me looking forward to AB1's east coast route. Hills and forests. I just let out a very Homer-like Mmmm. I don't think I'll be timing it so I may try some more interesting weather. @TomPenDragon as you are the de facto keeper of the code, how does my changing plane for the east route sit with you? @Melo965 I see by your short final into Ceduna that we're all getting good at crabbing . We have our work cut out too, to beat a string of V = 0.
  9. Thank you. Against the FS9 background, even the muted green is eyecatching. Reading back, I see the logo is a bit more obvious in Mike's screenshot. Don't quit: we have to have someone local on the spot, if only to tell us what we're flying over, else we're just a loutish bunch of Yanks & Poms taking advantage of an extra summer. As far as being serious simmers is concerned, well, I may be wrong but I think most of us do it for entertainment rather than obsession. In any case, 1. my approach to any question about which I know *something* is to Google the rest and hope that someone else has already done the work for me and 2. simmimg is not to be taken seriously: we found it to be much more fun with a (large) glass of wine. The four grey lines at Moorabbin might have been eight. D
  10. Nice flying. And nice screenshots too. Your short final picture just reminded me of the fun we had trying to decide which grey line was the runway. I don't know if your question was serious but in case... Your ground speed is your true air speed plus the tailwind component of the weather. True airspeed varies from indicated airspeed by around 2% per 1000 feet of altitude. It is also influenced by air temp, pressure, humidity, gusts, turbulence, what I did in the summer holidays but mainly altitude is to blame. You were at 7500'. Your IAS of 97 kt translates into a TAS of: 97 + (7.5 × 0.02 × 97) = 111.6 kt Add a 25 kt tailwind and your ground speed is around 111.6 + 25 = 136.6 knots. D
  11. For the Arrow, it was. We'd been messing around sightseeing (and the wine didn't help) so we were about 5 minutes late. As it happens, we ended the entire stage with V -4 so the delay would have been useful. Clearly it's not a good idea to drink and fly...
  12. Long distance driving can get fairly monotonous done solo so having put up in Glenelg I hung around in Adelaide for the week, waiting for my nav to return. She appeared on the 26th so that evening when the fireworks started we wandered out of the hotel, which had a glorious view of a construction site, and down to Glenelg Pier to see who was celebrating what. On the street at the hotel. Up the front a little way from Glenelg Pier. By seven am the following day we were back at our passive-agressive parking spot and ready to head over to Melbourne. The usual weird interaction between monitor & camera... Killing time waiting for d j to arrive. Thought I'd start without her. The bottle, that is. Passive aggression. "Piper GOTRG, cleared for takeoff runway 8L, east departure approved." "Runway's empty." "Clear right." Off the ground at 2208Z What are Dunnings? Departing runway 08L sent us over Dunnings and thirty miles of hill country before the terrain degenerated back to the flat and featureless. d j was on the mark and had us over Renmark and its lakes with just under a minute to spare. Sorting the screenshots, I see we forgot to photograph Renmark as we turned overhead. Despite the tabletop terrain, I have to say I really like the look of this landclass, especially under such an empty summer sky. It's really pretty terrain. We'd had the wind on the starboard bow for the first leg and now, flying 179° to Naracoorte, we'd turned the other cheek. The horizon was a knife-cut all around. Who said the Earth isn't flat? "You're a little off." "I showered. Anyway, you didn't tell me the wind would pick up." Somewhere, I wasn't paying attention, the FS9 scrub became more civilised again, giving us a tapestry of fields and woodland. Topography aside, it put us both in mind of the rare hot and dry summers at home. As it was for much of the Bendix, we had nothing by which to correct errors and navigation was once more reduced to a heading and a time. A long time. I wished we'd been able to bring the Mosquito. Naracoorte town with the airfield beyond, in the trees dead ahead. We were still in Adelaide's weather: 120@6 and 18°C. The sparsity of airports means a dearth of weather stations, which makes planning simpler. On the other hand, it gave my daughter little to do but refill her glass. This is limestone country. What's on the surface is around 400 million years old, a mere tenth of the age of much of the stuff we'd flown over on the way from Perth. I understand the climate to be more or less Mediterranean -- central Italy or the better parts of California -- and that means that as well as the usual livestock and corn this is wine country. Wales might be good for coal but my home town is an absolute desert when it comes to wine. The closest match I could find with this leg was from just outside Adelaide. Don't knock the glass - I'd use a bucket if I had one. All the way from somewhere between Adelaide and Renmark. FS9's Naracoorte airport was easy to find, being in woodland on the edge of a relatively visible town. For convenience, I was happy simply to overfly. No disturbing the neighbours' hangovers and no trimming the trees on short final but it would have been nice to stop for a drink... Overhead. A slight weather change a few minutes later brought us back to rumpled ground and as the Southern Ocean came into view so the Grampians drifted by on our left. They're mostly Devonian sandstone, the same age as the old red that outcrops along the edges of the South Welsh coalfields. Although Welsh coal is mostly anthracite while the south eastern Australian is lignite, it's funny to find the same mix and age of rocks so far from home, and within a few days of departing some of the world's oldest. I reset the chrono (remember my top of descent at the end of the previous flight?) at the change of weather so needed to add 6m 55s to the time in my Warrnambool screenie: Leg time 45 m 53s + 6m 55s = 52m 48s or 53 m. V = -1 Warrnambool appeared with a most seductive offer of a straight in approach to runway 13 but we weren't finished yet. A left turn onto 082° for the last 130 miles to our destination took us over Lake Corangamite, another saline lake and although this one doesn't dry out to a pan, it is shrinking. VOZ take well deserved credit for the colour of the water. Like a lot of Welsh hills, it apparently has WW2 aircraft embedded in it. Lake Corangamite. We spotted the aquatic chemical storage tanks at the well-landscaped Shell refinery at Corio, passing a moment later just south of Avalon Airport, whose weather we'd been enjoying since somewhere the other side of Warrnambool, and crossed the shore of Port Philip. With 25 miles to go, that was the last of anything before top of descent. Shell Corio. d j tuned Moorabbin atis and suggested "Just a touch left of that headland please. You can descend whenever it seems appropriate." Generous, I thought. I stayed put at 2000' just in case something nasty happened. Something nasty happened. Weather. Just when I thought we were home and dry, we found that Melbourne had weather. At least it wasn't down to the ground. Somewhere between the water and the tarmac, "Piper GOTRG, Moorabbin tower. Cleared to land runway 31L. Caution the Piper Cherokee..." so happily nothing new on account of getting atis & clearance before the final weather change. "Who the hell is that?" The Cherokee. Full stop 0211Z, 11.11 am local. Walking around after shutting down we found that at some point our race number had come off. At least we were in a place full of people, one of whom might be able to supply a replacement.
  13. Fully agree with this. Not having a dedicated connection to the rest of the world, I've never done multiplayer. That also has a direct bearing on newer sims... I'd love to try 2020, with hardware to do justice to it. Eye candy might also be described as visual realism but the mandatory huge updates and several user interface issues are putting me off. I got burned by P3d some years ago, adding to my disinclination and, as you've said, what I have works exceptionally well. That Steam also demands a proper internet connection is pushing me towards broadband. By the time I cave in (another five years and a new PC?), 2020 may be stable and I might give it a go but, as with the "eye candy" thing, asking questions and airing my concerns are likely to be perceived as trolling. It adds a lot of difficulty to obtaining info that would help with the decision. Whatever, with FS9 doing so well, it's not a priority.
×
×
  • Create New...