Cirrus SR22T SE Arrivée achieves high marks

Just a couple hours earlier, Cirrus Aircraft SR Product Line Director Ivy McIver had taxied to the AOPA ramp at Maryland's Frederick Municipal Airport in a burgundy-and-silver 2019 SE Sonoma edition for the flight to the Big Apple.

“Hop on in, David,” the chipper McIver greeted me. “Take either the left seat or the right seat.” Although I have about 750 hours of time in a variety of two-, four-, and six-seat singles, I hadn’t flown a $1.1 million, 213-knot, five-seat Cirrus GTS flagship into the Northeast’s busiest airspace. The Cirrus is a significant step up from the Cessna 152s, 172s, and 182s that I currently fly—and light-years ahead of the Mooney M20C that I previously owned.

McIver patiently explained the panel, which initially looked complicated but quickly became intuitive. She noted the safety systems including the whole-airplane ballistic parachute, and we discussed the aircraft’s performance envelope and critical airspeeds.

I prudently opted for the right seat during the 1.5-hour outbound leg and mumbled something about taking photos and getting familiar with the all-glass panel. Plus, I did my preflight homework and figured I’d pass on the sporty 20-knot crosswind landing on Teterboro's Runway 01/19 that the formation-qualified airline transport pilot shrugged off as a walk in the park.

The shiny Cirrus didn’t seem out of place on the Meridian fixed-base operation ramp nestled near a 1979 Cessna Citation 1SP that Trade-A-Plane listed at about half the retail price of the SR22T GTS.

A waiting Lincoln SUV driver picked us up at 12:15 p.m. and whisked us through the Lincoln Tunnel. Forty-five minutes later we opened the wood-and-brass doors to the restaurant hailed by food critics and awarded nine coveted James Beard Foundation Awards for dining excellence.

I’ve watched too many episodes of Chopped, so I had a keen appreciation for the sous chefs’ gastronomic flair and artistic plating techniques. A nook of fresh-cut pink roses and white carnations caught my eye as we strolled past.

Our seasonal lunch tasting began with a surprise: A miniature Cirrus SR22T SE flying under an AOPA Pilot magazine banner peeked at me from a ribbon-wrapped box of cookies. Arrivée owners can expect similar treatment along with their unique aircraft registration number and color scheme.

The behind-the-scenes dining experience was developed for pilots to “look beyond transportation” and to embrace a lifestyle that celebrates aviation’s freedom to explore new horizons. McIver drew a parallel to the Michelin brothers' guidebook that began as a way to encourage fellow Francophiles “to get out and explore the area” in their new-fangled automobiles.

“We’re trying to do the same thing with the Arrivée SE. We want you to share the benefits of general aviation with your family,” she noted, “and deliver a performance of perfection.” She said the personal attention afforded to the fine-dining experience was “like going to a Broadway play, being part of the play,” and then meeting the artistic director.  The Michelin culinary treat for four is also available in Chicago, San Francisco, and Washington, D.C.

I didn’t spot any edible balloons or nitrogen-infused ice cream, but our server Lizzie Sims delivered a tangy marinated fluke ceviche with green apple, kohlrabi, and lime to begin our feast. Sims took pleasure explaining the details the chef put into each successive dish that gave us extra insight to the restaurant’s inner workings.

A broccoli-and-leek puree base for our smoked sturgeon with Meyer lemon sauce was picture perfect. It reminded me of a painter stroking a brush across a canvas. A scrumptious squid ink pasta spaccatelle topped with lobster and Brussels sprouts warmed us up for the main course. After we cleansed our palates with a delicate sorbet, we dug into a roasted duck breast and confit nestled among wild rice, rutabaga, and kumquat.

During lunch we talked about the special edition aircraft’s motivation and color scheme. “Your first flight experience really starts when you walk up and look at your airplane,” McIver said. “We drew together a story line about each aircraft” and the moods they invoked, she explained. “Blue was nautical, because it reminded us of epic European yachts" in Monaco. "Red brought the feeling of traveling with friends to Sonoma [California] or to Italy for wine tastings,” she continued. “Green was more of an experiment—we haven’t done a green like this before. The green-and-tan scheme really invokes a Speyside [Scotland] fishing village, where you can imagine yourself fly-fishing and enjoying smoked trout with a nice glass of Scotch.”

By the time the vanilla yogurt mousse dressed in a pomegranate, mint, and toffee topped amaranth arrived, I was patting my belly and considering an adjustment to our weight-and-balance figures for the return flight. I could see how this could become addicting, but it was time to bid adieu to the tavern and head back to the airport.

I’d done some homework the night before so I crossed my fingers in hopes that I wouldn’t embarrass myself fumbling with the dual 12-inch Garmin Cirrus Perspective+ digital panels or get behind the turbocharged Continental TSIO-550-K 315-horsepower engine when I took the controls.

I eagerly jumped into the left seat, noting superior visibility from expansive front and side windows. The two-toned leather bucket front seats cupped my derrière in comfort and style. Dual WAAS GPS/com/nav radios, digital engine and fuel monitoring systems, a Bluetooth-enabled audio panel, and a center-mounted QWERTY keyboard controller completed the package. The stunning cockpit felt like a luxury sports car married a commercial airliner.

I turned the key and fired up the Sonoma SE, which boasts all of Cirrus’s options, including flight into known-icing conditions, air conditioning, global text connect, and more. McIver filed an instrument flight plan while I sashayed us into a conga line of departures with a dab of differential braking at 1,000 rpm.

I was intimidated to take off amid arriving and departing business jets, but the SE quickly jumped off the pavement in the brisk quartering headwind and cold temperatures. We waved goodbye to the big city, and I started a southwest turn toward the Appalachian Mountains.

At first the Garmin digital panel was a blur, but McIver quickly simplified it. “Once you get comfortable with the bare minimum [of instruments] and with the airplane, then start layering in all the fun stuff. The airplane certainly grows with you, and you can certainly take all of your primary training in it … but you don’t have to be a Ph.D. in avionics to fly this thing in VFR.” She handled the radios and coached me to N219SE’s “happy mode” of 30.5 inches of manifold pressure at 2,480 rpm, which equated about 85-percent power. The numbers gave us 175 knots true airspeed on 18.3 gph at 4,000 feet msl.

If you’ve flown a Cirrus SR, you know the wealth of navigation, communication, and engine information; the single-lever engine control; and the airframe’s responsive flight characteristics immensely boost confidence and situational awareness.

All too soon we had Frederick Municipal Airport in sight, so I brought the power back to 50 percent about 6.5 miles from the airfield. McIver advised that lining up the green boxes on the Garmin screen would help me nail the glideslope, and it worked like a charm.

I pulled the power lever back to 30 percent to slow down during the descent. “Perfect, beautiful,” she advised. I added one notch of flaps three miles from the runway and adjusted our flight path to match the panel display with the visual sight picture. We were cleared to land into a blazing sunset, so the color screen really helped. A second notch of flaps and a power adjustment spaced us away from a landing aircraft. “We’re looking for 80 knots at 25- to 30-percent power, so adjust the power to maintain 80 knots,” she said. “If you start to get a little slow, just boost the power a bit and feather it right on back.”

Since it was my rookie landing, I asked McIver if she needed to handle the controls. “No, you’re looking good,” she replied. “We’re coming in at 25-percent [power] and looking beautiful—power looks good, pitch looks good. When we get closer to the runway just transition your eyes out to the end of the runway, lift the nose just ever so slightly, and keep bleeding off that power.”

I gently touched down and could barely feel it. The transformation from Cirrus rookie to swaggering SR22T Arrivée SE pilot was complete.

“Perfect, that’s it! Nice work, that was awesome,” she complimented.

In just a few short hours we had experienced a real aviation adventure. I thought out loud, "Flying to New York for a day, having a great lunch at a Michelin restaurant, I mean who wouldn’t want to do that?"

As we shut down the Cirrus, McIver concurred. “What a great day!”