AlaskaAV
GONE WEST
Mission, TX
If anyone notes a red tinge around the edge of their screen, it will be a reflection from my face.
I have mentioned before about thinking I was some hot shot student pilot when I got the J-3 solo in 6 hours in Nebraska. Piece of cake.
OK, now we are in Alaska on skis in a PA-18 90 hp and with not too many hours. I had a friend who owned an operation in Talkeetna, Cliff Hudson, Hudson's Air Service using a Pacer at the time, who I had worked with in the summer of 1957 but hauling cargo in a Jeep pickup from Talkeetna to the Petersville gold mine, a two day trip at the time. I was doing some solo cross country work so decided to fly up and have coffee with him. Got to have a destination you know just as I have to have with my motor home.
I had planned on landing on the city strip which was where he kept his aircraft and was very near his "trading post" so to speak. Don Sheldon had his own strip at the time too. I flew over the city strip and noticed it was unbroken snow and knowing the area, suspected it would be powdered. No sign of drifting. As I recall, I drug it twice and than came in over the Su River on a long, low final with some excess speed. As I recall the strip was something like 1000 foot but could be wrong. I never considered landing on the new state runway east of the railroad tracks. To far to walk. Smart, right? Wrong.
I made a perfect three point landing (unusual for me) and the aircraft stopped almost immediately and I could litterly reach out and touch the snow. I had to taxi with power around 2200 just to move. I got the ship to the parking area and after letting it cool down before shutting it down, went in to see Cliff. Oh boy, what a hot shot pilot.
His comment?
You did what???? You landed where????
Now comes time to leave. I lifted the tail and swang it around for a departure over the river. Read: no wind. I cranked it up and at least had enough sense to sit back and think about the departure and what should be done while warming up. Once I was warmed up enough, I slid the throttle ahead slowly but faster than normal to get power as fast I could without hurting the engine. Remember, what I had found on landing was over 2 foot of powder snow and now I am departing in the same two tracks but before the snow had set up but still way too much for that 90 hp to handle. I also had enough sense to try a soft field departure so I could build up some speed. The sickening part is that I never thought of aborting during the entire departure. When I got to the end of the runway, I was almost at flying speed but started dropping toward the ice on the river when I went over the edge of the bank. Thanks to my instructors, I had enough sense to drop the nose instead of lifting it so gained the necessary airspeed. Had I lifted, immediate stall of course.
Hot shot pilot, right. That was only the start.
On the way back to ANC and over the railroad tracks, I hit a very heavy snow storm and I am VFR of course. I dropped down to where I could keep the railroad in sight at all times and always on the right side. Because I had worked in the area before, I know there was nothing in front of me that I might hit, other than another aircraft and hoping they were on their right side of the tracks. This only lasted some 5 minutes so here again, the feeling of a hot shot pilot. Now I am on my way in good weather headed for Merrill Field. For those not familiar with the area, the only thing between me and where I was going to land was an arm of the Pacific Ocean, the Kinik Arm of the Cook Inlet, full of huge floating ice chunks and 29 degree water and worst of all, through the approach area for Elmendorf AFB. I had a choice, climb over the glide slope for them or go under it. Yep, you guessed it. I went under. See what I mean? And I am still around? Boy did I trust that engine.
None of this really bothered me until I had another inflight problem (which involves excessive smoke) with the same aircraft which was also my fault. That story later after I get all this excess blood out of my cheeks and the redness goes away.
It was much later that I really understood that there might have been only one on board that Cub that day but there was a copilot for sure. I suspect that living through all those stupid things I did with aircraft made me a much better person in aviation management since I was always looking for safety oversights.
Anyone else care to share their oversights? Have at it here if you like.
I have mentioned before about thinking I was some hot shot student pilot when I got the J-3 solo in 6 hours in Nebraska. Piece of cake.
OK, now we are in Alaska on skis in a PA-18 90 hp and with not too many hours. I had a friend who owned an operation in Talkeetna, Cliff Hudson, Hudson's Air Service using a Pacer at the time, who I had worked with in the summer of 1957 but hauling cargo in a Jeep pickup from Talkeetna to the Petersville gold mine, a two day trip at the time. I was doing some solo cross country work so decided to fly up and have coffee with him. Got to have a destination you know just as I have to have with my motor home.
I had planned on landing on the city strip which was where he kept his aircraft and was very near his "trading post" so to speak. Don Sheldon had his own strip at the time too. I flew over the city strip and noticed it was unbroken snow and knowing the area, suspected it would be powdered. No sign of drifting. As I recall, I drug it twice and than came in over the Su River on a long, low final with some excess speed. As I recall the strip was something like 1000 foot but could be wrong. I never considered landing on the new state runway east of the railroad tracks. To far to walk. Smart, right? Wrong.
I made a perfect three point landing (unusual for me) and the aircraft stopped almost immediately and I could litterly reach out and touch the snow. I had to taxi with power around 2200 just to move. I got the ship to the parking area and after letting it cool down before shutting it down, went in to see Cliff. Oh boy, what a hot shot pilot.
His comment?
You did what???? You landed where????
Now comes time to leave. I lifted the tail and swang it around for a departure over the river. Read: no wind. I cranked it up and at least had enough sense to sit back and think about the departure and what should be done while warming up. Once I was warmed up enough, I slid the throttle ahead slowly but faster than normal to get power as fast I could without hurting the engine. Remember, what I had found on landing was over 2 foot of powder snow and now I am departing in the same two tracks but before the snow had set up but still way too much for that 90 hp to handle. I also had enough sense to try a soft field departure so I could build up some speed. The sickening part is that I never thought of aborting during the entire departure. When I got to the end of the runway, I was almost at flying speed but started dropping toward the ice on the river when I went over the edge of the bank. Thanks to my instructors, I had enough sense to drop the nose instead of lifting it so gained the necessary airspeed. Had I lifted, immediate stall of course.
Hot shot pilot, right. That was only the start.
On the way back to ANC and over the railroad tracks, I hit a very heavy snow storm and I am VFR of course. I dropped down to where I could keep the railroad in sight at all times and always on the right side. Because I had worked in the area before, I know there was nothing in front of me that I might hit, other than another aircraft and hoping they were on their right side of the tracks. This only lasted some 5 minutes so here again, the feeling of a hot shot pilot. Now I am on my way in good weather headed for Merrill Field. For those not familiar with the area, the only thing between me and where I was going to land was an arm of the Pacific Ocean, the Kinik Arm of the Cook Inlet, full of huge floating ice chunks and 29 degree water and worst of all, through the approach area for Elmendorf AFB. I had a choice, climb over the glide slope for them or go under it. Yep, you guessed it. I went under. See what I mean? And I am still around? Boy did I trust that engine.
None of this really bothered me until I had another inflight problem (which involves excessive smoke) with the same aircraft which was also my fault. That story later after I get all this excess blood out of my cheeks and the redness goes away.
It was much later that I really understood that there might have been only one on board that Cub that day but there was a copilot for sure. I suspect that living through all those stupid things I did with aircraft made me a much better person in aviation management since I was always looking for safety oversights.
Anyone else care to share their oversights? Have at it here if you like.
