Some Flying Experiences
Some of my other airplane blogs tell
of a few of my flying experiences but here are a few more.
I loved airplanes from as long ago as
I can remember. I built many, many airplane models and remember setting in the
4th or 5th grade at my desk looking at a book on how to
fly an airplane and acting like I had the controls while all the other kids were
out for recess. At around 14 I rode my scooter to a local airport and paid an instructor
pilot to take me up for a short first flight. No way a kid could do that now
and not sure how I got away with it then.
At 19 (1967) I joined the United
States Air Force (USAF) rather than be drafted into the army, remember Viet Nam
was going all out at that time. I had gotten a short deferment so I could
finish my Airframe and Powerplant (A&P) school at Spartan’s School of
Aeronautics in Tulsa, OK. With a new FAA A&P license I asked to get into
aircraft electronics in the USAF to broaden my aircraft expertise. I spent 4
years as an Electronic Warfare (EW) Technician on B-52 and FB-111 aircraft but
when it came time to reenlist, I cross trained into Air Traffic Control and
spent the last 5 years in the USAF as a controller at multiple different airbases.
My first assignment after finishing
boot camp and the EW technical school was at Carswell AFB, Fort Worth Texas
working on B-52D EW equipment. Up to this time I could not afford to take
flying lessons but it was still my dream. I finally decided it was now or never
so even on the little pay an enlisted man makes I managed to budget about an
hour of instruction every couple of weeks at a Ft Worth airport named Meacham
Field. This was a controlled airport (has FAA control tower) and is located in
the middle of a lot of residential housing.
First Solo:
You must have 8 hours of flight
instruction to solo and in that 8 hours you learn to fly the airplane, land and
take-off, use the radio, become familiar with controlled airport operations and
learn how to recognize a stall (airplane stops flying). That’s a lot to learn
in 8 hours and you don’t really get competent in any of those tasks, only
barely acceptable. 8 hours is the minimum time but you can take as many hours
as necessary until your instructor feels you are ready.
I had a lot of basic airplane knowledge
by this time with my A&P license and reading every book possible on the subject
so I was ready to solo right at 8 hours. The day of my solo was perfect
weather, not a lot of wind and sunny. My instructor rode with me for a couple
of touch and go’s and then told me to taxi to the coffee shop on the ramp. He
got out of the airplane (Cessna 150 high wing 2 seat trainer) and said “Make
three touch and go’s and then come back to the coffee shop”. That’s when my
heart started pounding in my chest and I knew I was on my own from that point
on.
I called the tower for taxi instructions
to the active runway and taxied as directed. There wasn’t a lot of traffic in
the pattern that day but there were three or four making the circle that I had
to be aware of. I did my engine run-up test, Magnetos checked, everything in
the green, then called the tower for take-off clearance. I was cleared for take
off and taxied onto the runway and lined up with the centerline. Full power was
applied and I started on my first solo flight. Take-off was normal and as I
passed the end of the runway I realized I was all alone up there and by the way,
I have houses everywhere with no landing spots available except on the runway I
just left.
That’s when everything went to hell.
I’m a quarter mile off the end of the runway still climbing at full power up to
the pattern altitude of 800 feet above the ground and the engine starts banging
and making a hell of a noise. Scared the crap out of me but the engine kept
running. I had no idea what was going on with the engine so I checked the oil
pressure and it was still in the green and all the instruments looked normal
but something was definitely wrong.
This is where my inexperience came
into play. I should have immediately called the tower and declared an
emergency, I did not do that. The tower would have given me priority to the
runway and even alerted the crash trucks to head to the runway or wherever I
might have ended up off the airport. I quickly realized that if I pulled the
throttle back to reduce the RPM that the noise decrease some but not completely.
I reduced power to about 80% which barely kept the plane climbing. I even
followed several other aircraft around the pattern until I finally got the
plane back on the runway after my first solo flight. I never told the tower I
had any problems at all. After being an Air Traffic Controller for around 10
years (both USAF and FAA), I know for certain that what I did was not uncommon.
New pilots are afraid of the FAA and won’t call for help until sometimes it’s
too late to help them.
I taxied back to the coffee shop and
stopped the engine in front. I walked into the coffee shop and saw my
instructor setting with several other instructors. He looked at me as I walked
up and said “Congratulations on your
first solo”. I said “I only got to do one time in the pattern because the
engine started sounding like it was coming apart”. His jaw dropped along with
the other instructors and they thought I was kidding but I finally convinced
them I wasn’t. We all walked out to the airplane and opened the engine cowling.
It didn’t take but a second to see that the whole exhaust manifold had blown
off the engine and was banging up against the engine firewall. In addition, hot
engine gases and flame was then able to blow directly into the engine compartment
causing a major fire hazard. None of them could believe this actually happened
and especially on my first solo flight.
A couple of valuable lessons learned
on that flight:
1
Always
alert the controller when things are not normal, they are there to help.
2
Always
expect the unexpected or at least think through the possible scenarios and have
a back-up plan.
3
You
must remain calm and think through your possible actions.
I was every lucky that I had reduced
the power because that reduced the risk of an engine fire (not a good scenario
in any circumstance). One thing I did know from all my airplane experience is
you never turn back towards the runway after engine failure unless there is no
other option. Too may pilots try and they end up in a fatal stall/spin accident
trying to make a tight turn at slow speed. I didn’t have a lot of options
either way due to the residential housing all around the airport so glad that
engine kept running.
A couple of days later I did another
solo flight and this time completed all three touch and go’s.
Pilot’s License:
I continued taking flight instruction,
when I could afford it, so flew may an hour a month or even less. In addition,
I had been reassigned to Pease AFB, New Hampshire so finished my lessons at an
airport at Sanford, Maine, which is an uncontrolled airport (no FAA tower). By
this time I was flying a Piper Cherokee low wing 4 seat trainer. When I finally
got my required 40 hours flight time I went for my pilot’s test and passed with
no issues. I was now a fully certified private pilot with 40 hours in my log
book. It was winter in New England at this time but my first goal was to take
my wife for a cross country flight around three points: Sandford, Maine to
Concord, N.H. to Manchester, N.H. then back to Sandford. It would take about an
hour to make this circuit but the weather was a bit questionable. Spoiler
alert, this is important.
There was snow on the ground but the
runway was dry. The visibility was over 5 miles with moderate cloud coverage
around 5,000 feet above the ground. The biggest issue was snow showers would
roll past that would bring the visibility down to around 3 miles for short
periods. We took off from Sandford and had a pleasant flight to Concord then
turned towards Manchester. Up to this point I had flown through several snow
showers with no problem. I was proud to show my skills to my wife since we had
been using our money for a year or more to get me to this point.
Prior to getting to Manchester I
noticed the ceiling was getting lower and the snow showers were getting longer
in duration. It kept getting worse, I kept getting lower so I could always keep
the ground in sight. I had only a basic training of instrument fight and was
not qualified to fly only on instruments. When we went over Manchester I was
barely 200 feet above the ground, the snow was steady and visibility less than
half a mile. I remember seeing people walking to their cars and looking up as
we flew over. I knew I was over Manchester and I was following the navigation
aid called a VOR that would take me back to Sanford Airport. My biggest concern
was that the ceiling and visibility would get worse and I would lose sight of
the ground with easily predictable results. I also knew there was a TV tower
along my path back to Sanford that would be taller than my current altitude.
The worse moment was when my wife asked me if we were ok. I was sweating
bullets but was able to stay calm through what was happening. I also did not
want to scare my wife so I explained that I know where we are and I’ll follow
the VOR to the airport so we are doing ok. A lie I know but what else could I
do.
I was able to bypass the TV tower and
gradually gain some altitude up to about 800 feet but was still in steady snow
with half mile or less visibility. The VOR does not give range information,
only direction so it felt like a long time to me to get from Manchester to
Sandford. I was too busy flying the airplane to do any cross VOR checks with
the radio to find our exact location. Just as we broke out of the snow shower I
see the Sanford Airport directly in front of me.
I immediately relaxed knowing we had
made it ok when all of a sudden a big white single engine WW II trainer flew directly
across in front of us. The owner of the fight school owned a Texan AT-6 and was
up in the pattern doing touch and go’s. Once again this scared the crap out of
me but I pulled in behind him and landed safely. The Texan also landed and I
had to admit to the owner that I made the typical newbie mistake of flying into
weather, expecting everything would be ok. I also said I was going to get my
Instrument License.
I continued with my flight training
over the next few years and eventually got a FAA Commercial Instrument License
and many hundreds of hours in my log book. I also bought a 1946 Cessna 120 (2
seat high wing tail dragger) when I got out of the USAF in 1976 and flew that
airplane almost every day. What I finally realized was that flying only an hour
a month does not make you a safe pilot. Only putting lots of hours in the air
and practicing multiple emergency procedures does that.
Just a couple more short stories:
I was out of the USAF and working for
a flight simulator company on DFW airport but had a friend that had just bought
a used Piper Cherokee. Since I had my A&P license I would do minor
maintenance for him and in return he would let me use the airplane as I wanted.
He was having intermittent radio problems so we decided to try and fix them
since I had all that USAF electronics training. Our plan was to take the radio
out of the instrument panel, open it up so I could place it on my lap then fly
south of Fort Worth while I tried to find what was causing it to cut in/out. I
can’t remember why we decided to do this while flying but here is the picture:
Jim is flying the plane, I’m in the co-pilot seat with the radio spread out on
my lap, we are over open fields south of Fort Worth and the engine dies! I’ve
actually had several engines die on me while flying but it was usually caused
by pilot error. My first thought was we had plenty of places to land the
airplane in the open fields but how was I going to explain why I had the radio
torn apart when the crash investigators showed up. Remember, I also had several
FAA license by this time and they were going to take a dim view of my decisions.
Jim was getting very excited by this
point since he was a relatively low time pilot. I told him to just keep flying
and pointed to a big field where we would land if I couldn’t get the engine running
again. I checked all the engine instruments and immediately saw that one fuel
tank was half full but the other one was empty! I then looked down to the fuel
selector on the floor and of course it was on the empty tank. This aircraft
would not feed from both tanks at the same time so you had to occasionally
change this valve to keep the airplane balanced. Jim did not do this and
starved the engine of fuel. We were only about 1,000 feet and losing altitude
quickly. I switched to the other tank and pulled the throttle back to idle. Luckily,
the propeller continued to windmill so it quickly fired up and started running
normal again. We headed back to the airport and landed and I never did get the
radio working. BTW the feeling you get when the engine suddenly stops is not
one of my favorite feelings.
After becoming an FAA Air Traffic
Controller I was assigned to Burns Flat, Oklahoma to work the tower at a close
USAF airfield; old Clinton-Sherman Air Force Base. This site was used by the
USAF and FAA to train their pilots and since it was out in the middle of
nowhere in west OK, they had it to themselves. The tower was closed on
week-ends so my other controller friends and I had the run of the place; 13,000 foot runway,
huge ramp and no one watching what we did.
My first day in the tower I see some
guy pull a Benson Gyro-glider onto the ramp behind his car. I asked the other
controllers who he was and they said he’s one of us and he’s been trying to
teach himself how to fly that thing so it would be a good show. Davie tied a long
rope to a stout tie down ring on the ramp then tied the other end to the front
of the Gyro-glider. The wind is strong in west OK so the goal was to have the
wind turn the rotors which would lift the Gyro-glider and pilot up to about 75
feet and fly like a kite. This actually does work but Davie wasn’t having much
luck. He would get into the seat and the rotors would start to turn but he
could never get enough lift to make it fly. He then stood beside the Gyro-glider
and with the less weight, it would lift off the ground. Get the picture, Davie standing
next to the gyrating Gyro-glider flying it with the stick about 3 feet off the
ground with a rotor blade just a few feet over his head. He would land it, get
in again and have the same non-flying results. He finally gave up and towed it
back home. That afternoon Davie came to work and we talked in depth about his activities
and that’s when I learned what was causing his failure to fly. Shortly after he
bought the Gyro-glider he decided to tow it to the ramp and perform the
procedure just described. On the way to the ramp the blades, which were not
tied down, started flapping and bent so far that one broke about 8” from the
rotor hub. These blades are made from wood components all glued together. Davie
had an engineering degree so he decided he could fix this minor problem. He
took both blades off and used a saw to cut them to the same length then
reattached them to the rotor hub. Simple. What he didn’t consider was he lost a
significant amount of the lift capability of the rotor with the loss of those
cut off segments from both blades. Luckily Davie never got it flying and sold
it to some other sucker.
This did not end Davies adventures.
He bought a surplus parachute and decided he was going to parasail with it on
our ramp. This was an old WW II round parachute, not one of the modern
steerable types we see now. He talked me and another flying friend Charlie into
being his ground crew. Once again during a week-end with the airport to ourselves,
we used Charlie’s El Camino as the tow vehicle, ran out a couple hundred feet
of rope and attached it to the parachute harness which Davie was wearing. I
spread out the parachute behind Davie and was to help get it inflated as
Charlie started driving down the ramp. The plan was for Davie to run as fast as
he could behind the El Camino until the parachute lifted him off the ground. We
had no idea what we were doing.
After a couple of false starts where
Davie would trip with the parachute partially inflated and then be dragged
across the cement ramp until Charlie stopped the El Camino, we stopped to reevaluate
our plan. I got more help with the parachute so we could get it inflated
quicker. The wind was finally strong enough that it would fill with just Davie
standing still but would not lift him off the ground. One last try, we had the parachute
fully inflated, Davie gave the signal to Charlie to start driving and then began
running. He was lifted up to about 30 feet, the parachute started swinging back
and forth and then slammed Davie back onto the ramp where he was dragged once
again by Charlie for a short distance. We all ran to Davie, sure he had to have
broken something. He slowly stood up rubbing his road rash spots and said “I
know what’s wrong, I need to remove a panel or two on the parachute so it flies
straight and doesn’t swing”. We all looked at him in disbelief, he was still
wanting to do it again. At this point the ground crew mutinied and said we were
not going to help him kill himself. If you notice in the parasail picture
below, they normally do it over water to make the hard landings safer. I have a
hundred stories about Davie, what a crazy guy.
During my time at Burns Flat, OK I
owned and rebuilt my 1946 Cessna 120
after part of a hanger fell on it during a tornado. After a year, I had it
rebuilt to include adding a starter so I didn’t have to hand prop the engine to
get it running. While working the tower one day I got an emergency call from a
Navy S-3 Viking (Twin engine jet anti-submarine aircraft). His front windshield
had shattered and although it still kept the air flow out, they could not fly
high or fast enough to get to a military base to land. They landed on our 13,000
foot runway and taxied to the ramp to park. The aircraft had a crew of four,
two pilots and two electronic operators in back. Burns Flat does not have restaurants,
motels or anything resembling a small town. We invited the crew up to the tower
where they could call their site to decide what happened next. Later that day a
Navy cargo aircraft landed to inspect the aircraft and decided to take the two
back seat crewmen back to their base and then return the next day with a new windshield
and technicians to put it in. They left
the two pilots to “guard” the aircraft since it had classified equipment
installed.
Around 5 pm the same day, my shift
was ending and I told the two pilots I was going to go fly my airplane and
would they like to go. It is only a 2 seat airplane so they were going to have
to take turns. Neither had ever flown in a 1946 taildragger and thought it
would be fun. My C-120 was in the hanger a short distance from the tower so I
taxied it to the ramp and one of the pilots jumped into the co-pilots seat. I
told him I would take the plane off but would turn over the controls to him as
soon as the wheels left the runway. A taildragger aircraft is a bear to handle
while on the ground and it takes training and experience or a ground loop is
the result. Even taxing a taildragger is “different” because you can’t see over
the nose so you have to S-turn to peek around the nose. I lined up on the runway,
applied full power and the tail came off the ground almost immediately. I kept
the nose in line with the centerline by using lots of rudder until it lifted
off the ground and then said “It’s Yours”. The pilot grabbed the wheel and
started our climb out but he couldn’t keep it from starting to turn. I finally
realized he had both feet planted on the floor and not the rudder pedals. I
explained that this airplane had to be flown not driven like his big jet. After
that, he had a great time seeing what flying was really like. He flew us back
to the pattern and got us on a high final. He asked where the flap control was
and I said “We don’t have any stinking flaps” I then took the controls and put
it into a radical side slip. A side slip is accomplished by lifting the nose, turning
the wheel to one side and putting the rudder to the opposite side. This dumps
the air from the wings and the plane comes down like a dropping elevator; fast
with a very unusual view out the side window which is now in line with the
runway. The Pilot grabbed the glareshield with one hand and his seat with the
other and I could tell he was as stiff as a board. I lost several hundred feet
and it looked like we would smash into the runway sideways but at about 20 feet
I centered the wheel and rudder and the plane went into a perfect flare and
landing. All the pilot could say was “ Holy Sh--! , I’ve never done a slip
before.” I dropped him off and before he could warn the other pilot I loaded
pilot number 2 into the plane and repeated the whole flight with the same
results.
Afterwards we went up to the tower
and we talked about the difference in flying jets and flying old underpowered
taildraggers. The jet controls are all integrated so much of their flying does
not require input from the rudder and they have flaps for landing, never using
a slip. It was fun showing these thousand hour pilots that they didn’t know
everything about flying.








Great story, Mike. I got my PPL in 1979 and have a few stories but none like these.
ReplyDeleteTerry Miller
Thanks Terry - for some reason I never seem to have normal experiences, something is always unique. Probably because I make a lot of rash decisions but I don't have a bucket list as a result, I've always done anything that was of interest to me.
ReplyDelete