Finished my longest trip ever - over 4,200 miles in a Cessna T182T

Looks like me and that other post about the guy in the C152 got done with our trips around the same time - so I figured I'd share mine as well lol. This is, without a doubt, the longest and most strenuous flight I have ever done. I learned an incredible deal from it, and I saw places that I never would ordinarily see. **- The "Why" -** A local friend of mine was about to move to Florida, and I had several days off during the last week of April. I'm still at the sub-500 hour mark and so I wanted more ways to build time, and he agreed to split the cost of fuel on the way there. We shook on it and thus the planning began. **- The "How" -** We would be flying the trip in my 2004 Cessna Turbo 182T, equipped with a G1000, air conditioner, ADS-B In, a WX-500 Stormscope, and SiriusXM weather datalink. I started checking the forecast and surface analysis charts 2 days before the planned start of the trip, and everything seemed okay. My biggest concern is that the Midwest is notorious for its severe thunderstorms during the spring, so I planned the return route to go through Houston and El Paso in case the Dallas area or the Plains started to get ugly. I also had an alternative route *through* the plains in case there was inclement weather and/or thunderstorms in mid-Texas and the Gulf Coast. I called all of the FBOs we planned to stop at and gave them all of my info. With a fresh oil change and an extra case of Aeroshell W100, and an exceptionally thorough preflight, we were ready to go. With all of our stuff, we could load about 70 gallons of gas into the T182T, which gave us a practical range of about 4.5 hours with IFR reserves. **DAY 1, APRIL 28: SCOTTSDALE (KSDL) - MIDLAND (KMAF) - SHREVEPORT (KDTN)** Day 1 started bright and early. Conditions for the first leg were forecast to be fantastic, and I simply did VFR flight following the whole way to Midland, averaging almost 200 knots GS with a 45-ish knot tailwind and a smooth ride the whole way. Landed in Midland, got fuel from Signature, and prepped for the next leg to Shreveport Downtown. There was some rain rolling in and the freezing level started to lower, along with some turbulence PIREPs near the Dallas area. I called a weather briefer which helped me plan my route to the south of Dallas, where conditions were forecast to be better. I filed IFR, took off, and despite a very turbulent departure out of Midland, things smoothed out for a while a bit further east. The tailwind that helped us to Midland turned into mostly a crosswind, however we still averaged around 160 knots GS for Leg 2. We did have to dodge some nasty-looking cumuliform clouds that were producing light precipitation; I did not want to get tossed around in them under any circumstances or mess with those potential downdrafts. Towards Shreveport, conditions were milder and we descended through a broken layer with only some intermittent light chop through the clouds. We tied down at Tubreaux Aviation, the FBO at KDTN, and stayed for the night at the Horseshoe Casino. Total air time for Day 1 was about 6 and a half hours. **DAY 2, APRIL 29: SHREVEPORT (KDTN) - CRESTVIEW (KCEW) - MELBOURNE (KMLB)** I woke up on Day 2 to see that there were thunderstorms all around Dallas, which made me feel quite relieved that we had left when we did. Shreveport had a broken layer around 1500 AGL and departure was uneventful aside from a near-miss with an eagle right before we climbed into the clouds. Unfortunately, the tailwinds had now completely dissipated. We were now fighting a 25-knot headwind at 11000, which cut our groundspeed to around 127 knots. The ride was smooth above the clouds, although descending into Crestview, as we went back down through the clouds, we encountered a momentary jolt of severe turbulence - everything in the aircraft not secured down was tossed into the air, and both of us went out of our seats and were forced against our seatbelts. My friend, who is taller than me, whacked his head on the ceiling. The rest of the descent was just light chop, and we landed at Crestview right next to a dozen T-6's that were coming and going doing pattern work. We did almost get cut off in the downwind by a cropduster who wasn't making any calls, though... After refueling, a bathroom break, and grabbing some snacks and drinks from the FBO, we set off on the final eastbound leg - or so I thought. About 30 minutes into the flight, out of absolutely nowhere, my bowels started absolutely screaming at me, and the continuous chop only made it worse. I canceled IFR, descended rather rapidly while dodging clouds, and diverted to Marianna Municipal Airport (KMAI). As embarrassing as it was, I didn't even stop to put the gust lock or wheel chocks in. I sprinted out of my plane, into the FBO, and into the bathroom. After that travesty, and feeling much better, I checked the fuel tanks and concluded that we still had enough fuel to make it to Melbourne with VFR reserves. The cloud tops were too high to outclimb without entering into them at subzero temperatures, and my 182 does not have an STC FIKI kit. We flew from Marianna to Melbourne at 3500 feet, VFR flight following. The entire flight was light-to-moderate chop which was incredibly annoying, and I was thankful my friend does not get airsick very easily. Couple that with a headwind and that last leg felt like forever, and the rude tower controllers at KMLB did not help. We parked at Sheltair, I helped unload my friend's stuff into his parents' car, and we went our separate ways after many thank-yous and even a monetary offer from his mom, to which I had to politely decline. The adventure out here was a real treat. I got a hotel for the night, ate some dinner, and went to bed early to start flying home. **DAY 3, APRIL 30: MELBOURNE (KMLB) - GULFPORT (KGPT) - LITTLE ROCK (KLIT)** I woke up on the 30th and checked Foreflight and was not pleased with what I saw. Convective SIGMETs were already starting to pop up around the Dallas area, and convective outlooks were hovering around the Florida Panhandle. However, no precipitation was observed on radar along my route of flight, and I got airborne around 8AM Eastern. It was an absolutely gorgeous flight, and the air was as smooth as glass for almost the entire flight, including through the convective outlook. Headwinds were only slight and I averaged around 145 knots GS on the way to Gulfport. After a gusty but uneventful landing, I got a topoff of (overpriced) fuel from Million Air and would have been planning my next leg to Joplin, were it not for the *absolutely massive severe thunderstorm that had developed over South Texas and Oklahoma and was slowly but steadily moving to the northeast.* Couple that with LLWS and turbulence AIRMETs over South Texas, and thunderstorms forecasted for the Gulfport area the following morning, I realized Little Rock was going to be my best option and there was no way I was going to make it to Joplin that evening. I filed, took off, and proceeded towards Little Rock, constantly checking my NEXRAD and Stormscope with the progress of the storm and any lightning strikes nearby. I spoke to a weather briefer over flight service frequency and they informed me that the storm was forecasted to hit Little Rock about an hour and a half after my ETA, though mostly calm conditions would prevail ahead of the storm until then. As predicted, landing in Little Rock went according to plan, aside from the massive wall of dark grey on the horizon. Sure enough, about 2 hours later, the first squall hit and battered the airport with gusts up to 50mph. My plane actually ended up jumping its chocks and weathervaned into the wind, but it never moved from its spot after the line crew ran out and re-chocked it. That gave me a mini heart attack though; especially considering they couldn't get me into a hangar fast enough before they had to close the ramp for lighting nearby. I ended up having some amazing fried chicken for dinner and slept off the storm in a nearby Comfort Inn. In the morning, conditions were much better, as expected from the TAFs overnight. I checked the weather and Ubered back to the airport, prepping for my flight to Joplin. My plane survived the night unscathed, thank goodness. No water was present while sumping the fuel system, which was also a relief. **DAY 4, MAY 1: LITTLE ROCK (KLIT) - JOPLIN (KJLN)** I decided to go easy on flying that day to allow myself to gain some energy back for the next legs home. The hour-and-a-half flight to Joplin was smooth as butter, with just a rainy stratus layer going into Joplin. It made for some excellent IMC time and logging an approach! The FBO there, Mizzou Aviation, is a straight-up time capsule with its interiors and decorations. Go look for images and you'll see what I'm talking about! I reached out to a friend who lives in Joplin and we hung out for most of the day, which was nice. **DAY 5, MAY 2: JOPLIN (KJLN) - LAMAR (KLAA) - LEADVILLE (KLXV) - SCOTTSDALE (KSDL)** The longest day of flying was also my last. After departing Joplin, I headed due east towards Lamar, Colorado due to building thunderstorms near the Amarillo area, which would have been a more direct route back to Scottsdale. I had to change my altitude several times to avoid clouds and a particularly low freezing level of only around 8000 that morning. Landing at Lamar, the winds were gusting something fierce, but nothing to an unmanageable degree. I got some gas from the self-serve station, and figured while I was out here, I'd tick off a bucket list item - landing at Leadville, CO. The highest public use airport in the USA, it presents itself with a unique set of challenges, such as the high altitude affecting performance, and the potentially deadly Rocky Mountains southwest of Denver. However, after thoroughly checking conditions, and seeing PIREPs nearby that were reporting no turbulence, I decided to go for it. I climbed up to 20,000 feet, donned my mask, and headed northwest to Leadville. Up at 20,000, it was smooth even over the ridges and peaks of the gorgeous snow-capped mountains below. As soon as I got below 16,000 on my way into Leadville, it started getting pretty bumpy. Having taken a mountain flying course out in Western Washington, I knew that mountain waves and rotors are not to be trifled with. I strategically crossed ridges and peaks to avoid any rotors or the worst turbulence, and did end up encountering some mountain waves on the way in, which made my airspeed fluctuate about 15 knots in either direction. Coming into Leadville, it was consistently bumpy on the way in with some light updrafts, and I landed on runway 34 with a left quartering headwind. I headed into the FBO to grab my certificate and bought a few goodies from their gift shop. I refueled from their self-serve pump and planned my last leg home. I departed Leadville with a "have a safe flight and see you next time" from the FBO manager over the CTAF, and climbed back up to 20,000 feet. It was less bumpy going out than it was coming back in, surprisingly. The turbocharger made the climb a nonevent and I reached FL200 just under 13 minutes after my wheels left the ground. Over Aspen and southwest-bound, I received a helpful tailwind which raised my groundspeed to 175-180 knots for a solid hour. However, there was a convective SIGMET and some scattered thunderstorms over northern Arizona, and near Winslow. Using NEXRAD and my Stormscope and deviations from ATC, I descended near Winslow and navigated below the cloud layer, dodging virga and areas of moderate precipitation with nothing more than light chop. After about 20 miles, I was past the storms and it was clear skies and happy landings in Scottsdale. After 5 days, 9 airports, 32.8 hours on the Hobbs, and over 4200 miles flown, I've returned from this experience with more knowledge than I started. Would I have done things differently, in hindsight? Yes, absolutely. I definitely had some instances of get-there-itis, especially with racing the storm into Little Rock. I also could have deviated much further to the west coming back into AZ with that SIGMET, but I did end up going through it. Even though everything went okay, it could very well not have and I wouldn't have known it until it was potentially too late. This trip has made me totally rethink my ADM process - I made plenty of good ADM on the trip, but also some not-so-good ADM. I could have prepared for what-ifs more. What if I had encountered a mechanical issue? What if conditions turned sour in Leadville with the mountain activity? What if I ran out of engine oil at an airport that had the wrong kind? What if something wasn't quite right on the preflight and I couldn't fix it? Fortunately, I never ran into a single mechanical issue, but I could have. In the future with long trips like this, a much more extensive planning process should be undertaken, and every single possible eventuality should have been considered when doing a true cross-country flight in a piston single, and not just the most obvious considerations. What a ride it's been, and I'm happy to have gotten the experience.