Monday, October 17, 2011

A Short Encounter (A repost from 2010)



A long time ago, a very good friend of mine suggested that I write a book someday. She was always amused at the short stories of my flying experiences. Perhaps that's why I started this blog. Maybe it was because my email list to relay upcoming events was slowly becoming shorter due to people changing their email addresses. Short explanation, the mailer demons were getting more frequent and driving me crazy.

So while I'm finishing the "Part II" of my accident story, (yes, I'm still working on it) I thought I'd talk about a flight to Clarksburg, WV a while back. A friend of mine, Chuck, asked if I'd be able to take him to Clarksburg for a meeting since his airplane was going through its annual inspection. I jumped at the chance because pilots are a crazy lot - they'd fly anywhere if given a chance. It's a good experience and adds another notch to the logbook entries.

I carefully planned out the flight and remembered to bring reading materials to give me something to do while I waited. I'd been to Clarksburg before so I'm not totally flying blind. I also know that it could be a quiet day with nothing to amuse me. I remember when I lived in Miami for a year back in the 70's, I was fascinated with aviation. The Boeing 747s had recently been designed and there were a few flights coming into Miami International. I used to drive down to the airport and sit in my car watching airplanes land and take off. I especially enjoyed watching the 747's come in. It was awesome.

Our family used to have a cottage along the Juniata River between Everett and Breezewood, PA. We would pack up the car and headed out for our weekend journey to the cottage. To my three siblings and I, we may as well have lived across the country. Children have no concept of time and travel. A couple miles seemed like an eternity to traverse. The cool thing about the trip for me was passing the Latrobe airport. I always crossed my fingers and hoped the timing would work out that when we got to that point, a small plane would fly over us. I thought that was a neat experience.

Okay, now that I've gone back in the time machine, I'll get back to my story. We landed in Clarksburg and I parked the plane in a space near the FBO. Chuck had prearranged to get picked up by the people he was meeting. As I watched them drive away, I grabbed an aviation magazine and plopped down on the bench alongside the FBO building facing the runway. It was a beautiful, summer morning and very quiet. I read an article and got up to stretch my legs.  A few doors down a hangar door was open and I noticed a mechanic there. It was a big corporate hangar and he was doing paperwork at a counter. I struck up a conversation with him. He asked where I was from. "Latrobe airport, I replied." I proceeded to tell him my purpose for being there. We chatted for a little bit and I headed back to the bench. Activity on the airport was now picking up. A few airplanes landed and taxied to their respective hangars. A couple airplanes had taken off to destinations unknown to me.

I read another article in the magazine I had, then walked over to my airplane to get a pice of gum. While I was standing there, I noticed a couple State Police officers emerge from the FBO and walk out on the ramp looking around. They disappeared back in through the door. Hmmm. They must have been looking for someone who hadn't arrived yet. I started to walk back to my "bench" and one of the officers came back out. He approached me and asked if I was with the Governor's detail. I replied that I was not. Convinced I was not a threat nor a secret governor envoy, he went back into the FBO office. As I was meandering the ramp, I detected what I thought was a band tuning up. ""Am I hearing things?" "What's going on?" Next thing I know, someone opened the door to the FBO and low and behold, the little band was inside. All of a sudden, activity picked up drastically. The band came out onto the ramp; a TV camera and news reporter came out. The news reporter grabbed my hand and said "Come on with us and meet the Governor." I told her "but I'm not from West Virginia." She said "That's okay." At that point in time, I noticed a King Air had landed and was taxiing to the ramp. The band began to play. The airplane shut down, the door was opened and out came the Governor, Gaston Caperton. He and his entourage passed by and into the FBO. The reporter and camera man headed to the grassy area outside the FBO and I followed. There were more people waiting in that area. The camera was rolling and the Governor emerged from the FBO. He began shaking hands of the group of people having little conversations with them. He came to me and asked my name and shook my hand. After a small speech, he got in the waiting limousine and drove off. I had a grin on my face because of the little charade that just occurred, but it was pretty cool. I wondered if anyone I knew from that area would be watching the news that evening only to see my mug talking to the Gov.

I returned to my bench and just sat and enjoyed the airport activity. An Army helicopter landed and got fuel; a few other airplanes landed; a jet arrived and dropped off their passengers and left. While I was reading a book I had taken with me, I noticed a yellow bi-plane had landed and taxied to the ramp and shut down. I noticed the gentleman hop out and the fuel truck pulled up to refuel him. He was holding an oil can when I walked over and sheepishly looked into the cockpit of the plane. It was a beautiful plane. I asked him if it would be okay to look into the cockpit. He said "sure!" As he was checking his oil, he asked where I was from. "Latrobe" I replied. "Ahhhh. I've been to Latrobe quite a few times" he told me. I complimented him on how beautiful his plane is and he thanked me. I walked around and was quite impressed with how well he had taken care of his plane. I noticed a picture on the side of the plane but I didn't pay too much attention to it. I asked him if he was based at Clarksburg. "No, I actually keep the plane in Summersville." I told him I had heard of Summersville but had never been there. The lineman showed up with the fuel bill and I told the gentlemen to have a nice flight. He replied "have a safe trip back to Latrobe; and tell Arnie I said "hi."
As I walked away, the mechanic I had befriended earlier in the day waved to me to come over. As I walked into the hangar he asked me if I knew who I was talking to. I said I didn't know his name but I was admiring his plane. The mechanic said "That's Stephen Coonts!
I said "who's that?".
He said "you don't know who Stephen Coonts is?"
I said "not really".
"He's a famous author. He wrote the Flight of the Intruder. And that's the Cannibal Queen!"



"Ahhhh. I guess I didn't really know but that's pretty cool." Hmm, just call me a goober for not knowing. I appreciate people who have notoriety but I don't slobber all over them. I do know some famous people but I respect their privacy. And so it goes. Mr. Coonts, wherever you are, it was a treasure to talk to you, albeit a short encounter.
My bench awaited me and I guess Chuck should be arriving any time now. I headed over to the plane and started my preflight. A half hour later, Chuck showed up. He apologized for being a little late and hoped that I wasn't too bored. I gave him an half grin. We got in the plane and taxied out. During our cruise back to Latrobe I recounted my "adventures" at the airport.

......one of the reasons why I love to fly.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The Reason We Fly (Repost from 2010)



A few weeks ago, we headed to Waynesburg Airport (KWAY) to watch John's son participate in a Cyclocross race conveniently located alongside the approach end of Runway 27.

The weather was perfect for the flight and produced ideal conditions for a Cyclocross race. Though, I have to qualify this because the racers, as in the past, have expected rainy weather. After all, one of the bicycle race circuits this time of year is called "Month of Mud".

We embarked on the 20-minute flight from Latrobe. The visibility was a million miles, accompanied by smooth morning air; one couldn't ask for better flight conditions. We landed, parked on the tarmac and walked to the biking venue. During the race, a number of airplanes landed. I heard a comment from a couple of cyclists who thought it was pretty cool to attend a bike race and be able to watch airplanes taking off and landing. Yes, I agree.

Between races, we sauntered over to the restaurant located on the field. John ordered a homemade burger that was nearly impossible to finish due to its size. Almost as entertaining was the group of pilots and friends, at a table near us, discussing flying and politics. Who needs Fox News when we have these guys?

After the race, we headed to the plane, did a preflight, and took off. As we climbed out we wagged the wings to say "nice racing guys and ladies".


A week later, I had to deliver some paperwork to a friend out in Harrisburg. Instead of putting the papers in the mail, we decided it would be a great little adventure to fly instead. The weather gods were with us, once again, and we launched from KLBE and proceeded to the "far east". We had a nice tail wind which turned the normally 55-minute trip into a 36-minute jaunt. (I know we're going to pay on the return trip).
 
It was pretty cool flying a wide left downwind to left base over the river, passing Three-Mile Island to our right and watching a small gaggle of geese pass below us. They were probably practicing for their journey south; presumably on a different frequency than we were. The air was smooth and the landing was equally grand.

Our friend and wife picked us up at Harrisburg International and took us to Hummelstown for a great lunch. We visited a while and then headed back to the airport. During the visit, I had checked the weather earlier on my Blackberry. There was a small rain cell hovering over Altoona. The weather briefing from Flight Service gave us a promising VFR trip. The cell had disappeared. We climbed into the plane, taxied out to Runway 31 and were cleared for takeoff. Climbing out, we were told to contact Departure. We climbed to 6,500. As we approached the mountains, we noticed some cloud activity ahead of us due to a stationary front in that area. Apparently, Departure thought we wanted to stay on flight following so they had us contact New York center as we proceeded west. The flight was uneventful except for the headwinds that slowed us to a healthy 81-knot ground speed. It took us 1.7 hours for the return trip but the flight was awesome.

As we passed over the terrain, we noted that the spectacular leaf colors would soon give way to snow. This is why we fly; to experience the wonders of nature and the camaraderie of great friends, from a different perspective.


We hear a lot about the negative aspects of flying every time a plane crashes in the nation; it makes the news. Hopefully, this will provide a positive side of aviation.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

What's that goose doing at 6,500 feet? (Repost from November, 2010)



Sometimes you can spend a lot of time hanging out at an airport and, aside from the usual things that go on there, nothing much happens. This morning, John and I headed out to the airport to check over the plane (aka Mikey) and straighten out the hangar. I had to go to the local FBO to wash my hands and "powder my nose".

A couple pilots were checking up on the weather for their IFR flight home. I struck up my usual conversation "Where are you from?" "Zelienople", one of them replies. Have you ever been to that airport? "Ahhhh. I was in there quite a while back". "I think it was a goat path back then". Actually, I had flown in there over 20 years ago. It wasn't much of an airport at that time, as I remember it. But things change and it's a thriving airport these days.

As I headed back up front to head back to the hangar, I noticed a little activity on the ramp outside. A Mooney had just landed. I didn't notice much about the pilot who got out of the plane. Someone mentioned that the Mooney had struck a bird. I didn't notice anything and figured the end result was a minor dent. I walked outside to check it out. You know how it is, you always have to check out things of that nature to see the "damage". I was curious to know the circumstances of the flight. As I approached the front of the plane, it became more clear the extent of the damage. The passenger side wind screen was no longer there. I observed the thickness of the Plexiglas to be 1/4". The upper portion of the window frame was crushed in and back. As I glanced into the plane from that angle it became clear that this was no ordinary bird strike. Blood was splattered in the interior of the plane mostly in the roof. Behind the rear seat, I noticed black, webbed feet sticking up against the back of the seat.

As is customary, one of the airport employees was there to get the facts and file a report. I still hadn't seen who the pilot was; I asked Shawn, employee of Arnold Palmer Airport, what kind of bird did the plane hit. "You can check it out for yourself; he's in the baggage area." Wow. That explains all the mess. As I continued walking around the right wing, I glanced into the plane. Sure enough, there was a bundle of blood and white feathers resting in the baggage area; a pretty sad sight. It looked like a snow goose from what I could see.

I asked where it happened. "The guy hit it over Johnstown at 6,000 feet." Reminds me of the time I hit a deer back in November, 2005 on landing at Rostraver airport. I actually had someone say "was he on the ground?". I wanted to say - no, I figured I'd go out looking for Santa's reindeer practicing for Christmas and take him out before I landed. Six thousand feet is pretty high to be spotting a snow goose but it's migrating season so probably isn't too unusual given the time of year.

I asked where the pilot was. Apparently, he was in the FBO. I guess I didn't realize I probably passed him in the lobby. I headed back into the FBO and when I saw the pilot I realized he was a friend of mine. I didn't realize it was his Mooney. He looked calm considering he probably had a pretty harrowing experience. He had feathers embedded in his shirt as well as some in his hair. "Ralph! Are you okay?" He said he was fine; seemingly proud that he got his first "kill". He realized he was pretty darned lucky the bird went through the passenger side. He believes the install of 1/4" Plexiglas he had performed a few years prior was a pretty good investment.

John and I headed home. Curious creatures that we are, we headed up to our respective offices in the attic to check things out. What happens after you get a bird strike? We found out some pretty interesting statistics.

The FAA has been building a bird-strike database since 1990. They have recorded over 108,000 between 1990 and 2009. 92% of strikes occur below 3,000 feet. A lot of people may not know this but, geese are family oriented, mating for life. As they migrate, the families travel together. If any bird in the flock sees a threat, it will break away from the flock and dive toward the threatening object. Ralph said he noticed the flock above him and then saw the bird dive at him, maneuvering at a blazing speed to make sure it made its target. A 4-lb. bird colliding with an aircraft traveling 130 knots will hit that plane with a force equal to 2 tons. This bird weighed about 10 lbs. and the Mooney was traveling 155 knots. Whoa!

To avoid a bird strike:
  • Don't fly beneath a flock of birds. When birds sense danger in the air they have a tendency to dive.
  • If you are approaching a flock of birds you should pitch up to fly over them; or alter your flight path to avoid going under them.
  • Turn on your lights. The birds may see you in time to move but don't rely on them doing so.
If you are involved in a bird strike remember to:
  • Fly the Aircraft!
  • Have a emergency plan in the event of a bird strike.
Once on the ground, contact the airport manager and call the FAA and file a bird-strike report.
.... and count your blessings.