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Hey Pilot! I gotta' PEE!

CloudDancer said:
So I will fumble along as I have for the last year and a 1/4 since I got this, my very 1st computer, for my 49th B-day. Besides. it's Lent. A little extra suffering is supposed to be good for the soul.

CloudDancer, you are a very funny fellow... hope you keep up the writing!

As for Wordpad, if you are using Windows:

Start Menu, Programs, Accessories, Wordpad...

The edit menu will give you cut and paste options...

sj
 
Had really SNAPPY retort for that "expanding suppository" Jerry.... 8) .....but then I realized that this is a family forum.....so I'll go with......Patience is a VIRTUE!! :angel:
 
HOLY XEROX Batman! This WordPad cut 'n paste stuff is GROOVY!! Thanx!! And Thanx to Randy for the kind PM too. And now...for all you taildraggin' weed whackers out there who have been waiting s-o-o-o patiently for the final installment...

please mail ONE DOLLAR and a stamped self-addressed envelope....Ha Ha!! (LOL) NAW! C'MON . I'd never do something that dirty and play right into Jerry's hands. I wuz jes' a'woofin' ya....Okay where were we.....oh yes


PART FINAL










THIS has been a test of the WordPad system. This has ONLY been a test. In the event of an ACTUAL "part final"......
 
Part FINAL


Having made, if not the ultimate sacrifice, at least a memorable one; our 1boot on / 1 boot off with the cold left piggies aviator can now focus on the important task at hand. The time is right, and we must start our gradual turn now. This will be completely an instrument maneuver. The lagoon is in the shape (roughly) of a huge inverted "vee" three miles on two legs forming the "vee" and a little over four miles or so on the upper/inland side. There is a low bluff no higher than 75 to a 100 feet running along the inland portion of the lagoon and we SHOULD stay well clear of that, given there is so little wind, and I've waited 30 to 40 seconds to initiate the turn.

Lessee here....130 degrees should do it. JUST as I start to roll into a fifteen left bank I begin to sense movement behind me. Well, doesn't matter I'm locked on the clocks. A/S slipping a little and I reach for the flaps. I intend to drop another 10 degress to slow down further so I don't have to swing out so far/so low over the water when I reach the other side. 85 to 90 KIAS will be just fine and we have 220 feet again on the altimeter and the flaps start mo....wha..the...HELL!

The airplane starts tipping this way then that as my entire payload(ed) begins thrashing about the tiny confines of the cabin. She is standing/turning/squatting half upright trying to....JESUS!!WATCHTHEBANKWATCHTHEGODDAMNBANK!!!!......Grunting, belching, and god only knows what else escapes my now frantic passenger as she is apparently trying to uncover......"Damn! Be CAREFUL!!" I scream, as her rather prominent and now partially bare posterior pushes the right seatback forward. I slap it backward ( the seatback...not her....oh, nevermind) knocking her sprawling over the top of her folded down seat into the third row.

Now folks. Let's take just a moment here to review a few facts. I'm on the gauges rolling into a (planned) 15 degree left bank hoping to roll out on a 130 degree heading at the same fairly low altitude that I started at while also extending flaps to slow, changing elevator trim, and in the back of my mind wondering why my BIG toe on my left foot is colder than the little toe.....shouldn't the little.....when my passenger....potential relief in hand so to speak ......begins to frantically try to assume ANY position which will allow her to extinguish her "Bladder Overpressure" warning bells, lights and whistles withOUT going all over herself. I fear by now, hitting the boot would simply be lucky. Let us also bear in mind, that this woman (wet or DRY) represents well over 10% of the enTIRE gross weight of this airborne cluster$%#& at this point!!

Well, between the aftward shift of the C.G. and me trimming "up" for a slower speed as the flaps extended, and leaning down and to the right to slide to front right seat BACKward so she can't do THAT again.......I am HORRIFIED as I look back at the instrument panel to see a twenty-FIVE degree left bank, the DG passing 125 degrees and the altimeter passing 340 with a VSI passing 250FPM on the "going UP" side of the guage. DAMMITDAMMITDAMMIT!! THIS will NEVER DO!!

I can now fervently thank the gods that I used to BEG my instrument instructor to give me more and more unusual attitude practice. Couldn't get enough of it. SO much fun.

Instantly and simultaneously I snap the right wing down to level and push the yoke forward while adding some manifold pressure, thus saving me from having to hear the stall warning horn, as I caught it at about 75KIAS. Phew. Wings level, A/S increasing again, VSI at zero, and only overshot the turn 10 degrees! Unfortunately, these same lightning quick responses had an unintended affect on Miss Kivalina who at the same time was struggling to return to SOME sort of an upright position and commence Operation Drainage. The laws of physics in these maneuvers therefore aided her upward motion, and, already half a bubble off laterally, caused her to become FURther unbalanced so she could now fall backward against MY seat. But I am ready. I've had eNOUGH of this Chinese Fire Drill!!


Begging ya'll's humble pardon....but I guess it's gonna' take one more installment to finish this story. My fingers are tired, it's almost supper time....and I hate to eat on an empty stomach.
 
Hey Cloudy, What a great delivery!!! It never ceases to amaze me of the talent present on this site BRAVO!!!! Rick :lol: :lol: :D
 
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, if I could only tell a story half as well as you, sir. I had an experience very reminiscent of yours over the jungles of the Amazon. One very LARGE difference was that my load was more like 20% of the GROSS weight of the 206. Did have a sick sack so my foot didn't get cold............ my sweat sure did though.:crazyeyes: Seems she sure had a difficult time getting the cargo belt back around her that I'd used for to strap her in. :roll:
 
Part FINAL (2) - I PROMISE....no....REALLY....I mean it


Bracing my left arm against the glareshield I lock it and hold my back rigid so that my flailing human cargo cannot mash ME forward into my control yoke. She finally steadies herself and arrives at some sort of a workable position for I hear her heaving a BIG sigh of relief practically in my right ear followed by one of those long satiflying noisy exhales that routinely accompany the relieving of a major stress.

Satisfied that I am, at least for a few moments, safe from further assault; I quickly go about setting up a 200 fpm descent rate and swing the nose right ten degrees. Leveling out as the altimeter passes 200 feet, I strain to see ANYthing ahead of me. Am I out of the clouds and fog? A glance at the left nav light confirms that I am but it's blacker than black out there. Oh yeah. I've given up the surf line on the beach and the lagoon is dead calm in this little bit of wind. Nothing to see for a mile or two yet. But....is that a LIGHT ahead? One dim light materializes dead ahead and begines to increase into a brighter glow....Oh! This is GOOD. With almost a mile ahead of me to the light I begin to discern the shape of the large canvas tent which enclose not just one, but probably three or so merrily (and noisily, I'm sure) blazing Coleman lanterns. It is the summer camp of one of the Williams families from Noatak. Located right at the eastern edge if the lagoon on the beach between the lagoon and the sea, I now know exactly where I am and begin another left bank to make my turn down the beach just inside the tent. Sure hope I don't scare old Fred and Mabel too bad, but the kids will love it!!

AS I am rolling through the turn to line up on the beach heading east I can already see the lights of the next cluster of campsights, which I know to be about three miles closer to town.....HEY!!.....It's getting GOOD out here. Quickly I tune 115.7 to get the 45 after wx broadcast over the VOR. Ea-a-asy money now. OTZ is up to 1000 and three. I crawl up to six hundred feet before the world disappears and then slip back down to 550 where the lights ahead are clear. Meanwhile behind me, my fare lady has at last completed her minstrations. Now, with MUCH less panicked motions, rather carefully in fact, she is in recovery mode. Even as I am relaxed now and actually could SAFELY look around, I resist. I dunno'.....would YOU? There's nothing I NEED to see behind me at this point, so I happily slide my chair back a couple of notches, pick up the junk on the floor and add it to the pile on the right seat and contentedly reach for another smoke.

Then...from behind...."Ummmm...hey.....pilot??" "Oh fer' cryin' out loud"....as I turn to see what now. My passenger now extends ourward her left hand, in which, with only a thumb and two fingers, she is holding onto the upper end of my (former) rubber boot.
I say "No Thanks...you keep it." To which she replies....."Well, what am I going to do with it???!!" I answered "I don't really CARE what the hell you DO with it just don't DROP or SPILL it."

Tuning in 22point8 I call the owner at home where he's watching TV in the living room and ask him to make sure there's a cab at the airport on the hour. After assuring me he will, he nicely asks me would I be interested in going back to Kivalina one more time tonight for cash, as it seems he has a live one that's all ready to go, and would I mind?? (This is ONLY an option instead of an order because 1.) THIS flight will bring me up to 9.0 hrs for the day so far and 2.) He's not real sure the guy has ALL the required cash yet. I politely decline, assuring him that my funmeter has already pegged for the day and I am done. Only slightly disappointed, he "10-4's" me and bids me a goodnite. Good Riddance! I been hearing a barstool calling my buttcheeks for at LEAST an hour now.

Turn to the ADF needle. Change frequencies and "Hello Kotzebue, Cessna 1747Uniform is SHOE-shal-lik inbound, advisories please.". No other traffic. Destination almost in sight I go blasting out across the water and climb to all of 800 feet for the trip across the nine or ten miles of Kotzebue Sound I must traverse to finally end this ordeal. Sniff. Sniff. Sniffsniffsniff. What the HECK is that PUtrid smell????? WHY is the heel of my left foot (resting on the floorboard) getting......WET!!!! OHMYGOD the smell is getting over WHELMing. JESUS!! I gasp for air and rip open the air vent to stuff my nose in the icy cold flow of FRESH AIR.

Well, as you probably guessed. Having tired of HOLDING the urinal, my passenger sets it down and then promptly knocks it over whereupon the liquid contents proceed to go wherever gravity and the laws of acceleration and deceleration may push. This, unfortunately for the occupants includes the heat vent, centrally and (usually) conviniently located between the two front seats flush mounted into the floor. Now I AM PISSED OFF!! (and I guess pissed On for that matter as well). I SWEAR I'm gonna KILL her!!

I hook my semi numb toes over the top of my left rudder pedal as I roll right into a left base. Slowing, dropping flaps....JEEZ this place smells like a BARN. All-in-all a pretty good landing considering the unusual attitude of the pilot during the procedure. I make the first turn off, and as I taxi off the asphalt onto the gravel ramp area of my company's parking area I see the cab come wheeling through our gate.

I can't WAIT to get outta' this thing and whack the mixture thirty yards out from the tie-down the prop spinning to a stop just as I tap the right brake using the last of the airplane's momentum to align the left wing with it's tie down just as Tommy One-Eye, part-time bootlegger and full time dope dealer/taxi driver comes sliding to a simutaneous gravel-spewing stop at the right wingtip. ( I mean...it's not that One-Eye is not as serious about his bootlegging, but since the bars close at 5AM and open again at 7AM there's just a limited window of daily opportunity for the sale of cheap whiskey at $50/fifth and up.) I know it's Tommy One-Eye because his right headlight, busted somehow years ago, dangles uselessly banging face down against the grill. This, despite the fact that the Chief of Kotzebue's Finest (one of Tommy One-Eye's best CUSTOMERS....off duty...of COURSE) had threatened to give Tommy a ticket a couple of years back if he didn't get the damned light fixed. Tommy jumped outta' the car, raised his right side eye patch to reveal the gristle underneath and hollered "What the hell good you think a headlight on the RIGHT side is gonna DO me??!!" Faced with this unassailable logic, not to mention the possibility of a price increase on rum, our stalwart Chief caved. Tommy One-Eye. Logical, reliable. What more could you want out of a man??

Well my Kivalina Kutie has managed to get her fat ass outta' my airplane without further damage to herself or the airsheen, thank goodness. I run/limp/jump Festus-like to the shop and grab some towels to mop up the mess. Boy, is my roomate gonna' be mad when he gets HIS plane back tomorrow I'm thinking. As she gets into the cab, Miss Kivalina calls out to me that she's sorry and if I'll meet her at the Pon-du (short for Ponderosa Bar) she'd buy me a drink or two??!!?? Smiling weakly, with a slight negative shake of my head, I thank her but decline.

As One-Eye throws gravel in reverse I am tiredly replacing the contents of the glove box and seat pocket until all that remains on the right seat is the Trojan condom. I pick it up, and turning it over and over in my hand, I mull over the events of the last hour in my mind.
What the hell. huh? Flipping it up in the air like a quarter I slap my hand down over it from the top and catch it tighly in my grasp. I think to myself....my luck's just GOT to improve from here...as it slides into my jeans pocket.

The-e-e-e-e-.....END!!
 
Sure enjoyed the story!

When do we tune in for the next episode of our hero's flying adventures?

sj
 
Well, glad you folks liked it. I purely warms the cockles o' my heart knowing I can give ya' a little smile or two. But unfortunately this does not pay for my vices. Therefore, as I am on reverse for the next few days and suspect (S)crew scheduling is most likely to call....amazingly enough, my company actually expects me to show UP on a regular basis to put in maximum effort for what's LEFT of my pay and what we now (laughingly) refer to as our "benefits" package. (sigh)

Oh, I suppose I could make SOME effort to curtail spending on Bacardi, Blackjack and Blondes; but at this late point in life, other than a good BM in the morning....what else is there for enjoyment?? At LEAST I finally weaned myself offa' tittie bars (I think). THAT was pretty easy though, I mean, when ya' think about it. Isn't it kinda' like a starving man standing outside a Ruth's Chris SteakHouse, nose pressed againt the window, watching some have a really great meal. How's THAT help anything??

Sorry. Got WAY of track here. But HEY....

Stay tuned for our befuddled hero's next adventure "Some days You Get the Bear 'n SOME Days....." Coming soon to a webboard near you....

Tailwinds, my new Friends
 
Sorry about the slow reply to your final chapter. I got up to cook a pizza during one of the intermissions and missed your grand finale. :angel:
ps: Ted Turner ownes some land here in Gallatin county and I might send him your rough draft.
 
CloudDancer said:
See you're up in Nome there CubKid. Next time your down at the Board of Trade or the Bering Sea Saloon, knock one back for me. Couple of the finest bars I ever passed out in.

They truely are fine bars! 'specially the Board of Trade...our principle tourist attraction and out biggest money maker in Nome. And the only reason why my college buds bother coming out here. I am actually down there quite often with the ambulance, dragging people out after getting the snot kicked out of them...

Musta been great flying out of OTZ back in the day. Were they really bad at basketball then too? (I won't mention their wrestling team, they embarassed us every year when I was in school)

Bill
 
Great story, CloudDancer! I enjoyed every word - thanks!

Gerald, some day you're going to have to write your memoirs. I bet you've got some real doozies to tell, too.

Anne.
 
WHO is GERALD??? Glad you liked it AnnesToy. Starting on Somedays YOu get the bear right now. Hope you like it too.
 
Gerald, aka GDafoe, is a really interesting guy (and way too modest). He's one of the original members here, but before that flew in S. America for many years (I don't know how many). At New Holstein the first year, we tried to get him to write down his stories, but haven't been successful so far.

I was going to fly home with him from Wisconsin to Michigan, but he was going direct over Lake Michigan (which scares me no end). He said after flying over the Amazon jungles, Lake Michigan was no big deal. I got home a few hours after he did, flying around the lake.

Anne.
 
Oh Yeah. I had to go backwards a little bit in this thread to find his post.

Sorry, I thought you were calling ME Gerald. Of course, that's far from the worst thing you COULD call me. Not to mention seems Gerald is quite the kindred spirit and I have NO doubt his adventure stories of jungle flying would certainly be every bit the equal or better of my Arctic stuff.

Lions 'n tigers 'n bears .....oh, MY!!

Cheers to you BOTH!!
 
I hadda go back and re-read this one again.. it reminded me of an event last summer..

On the way the airport I stopped by the Fairway Market, Skagway's only food store to pick up something to drink. The day was warm (darn near 70 degrees) and some iced tea would really hit the spot on my 3PM scheduled run to Juneau.
My passengers awaited my arrival and we quickly loaded their bags and bodies into the airplane. We had a full house (5 PAX) so there was not much wiggle room. A gentleman sat behind me and the rest of the passengers were ladies. The male was a local and could often be found at Moe's Frontier Bar. The ladies were tourists and were looking forward to a little Alaska adventure. They would soon have a story to tell the folks back home. We launched and endured the usual wind-induced turbulence through the 12 mile Tia Inlet and emerged into the Lynn Canal for the 45 minute flight to Alaska's state capitol.
Once out of the bumps, it was time to open my bottle of Lipton's Best and have a few sips. MMMMM.. that was tasty..
A I replaced the cap on the empty bottle, the male passenger behind me tapped me on the shoulder and asked "Hey man, are you finished with that?"
"Sure" I replied, thinking he probably wanted to use it as a spit cup for his chew. Well, Chewey had other ideas. That familiar rancid smell wafted through the cabin. I confirmed my suspicions by glancing at the lady sitting in the right center seat. She was leaning away from the male as far as she could and covering her eyes. YUP.. sure enough.. He then proceeded to replace the cap on the bottle and handed it to me. I politely declined his offer, suggesting that he retain custody until we reached our destination.
I'm sure that the ladies are still talking about that flight.
 
We-e-e-ell.....That's whatcha' call gettin' to see the REAL Alaska!! :bunny

Not the sterilized (viewed from the tinted window of your GreyLine Motor Coach) version.

I mean....I bet it's not like he weren't willin' ta' SHARE if she NEEDED It!!

CD :howdy
 
Neat story!

Reminds me of a similar situation I had when dealing with some smugglers in the mountains of Mexico.

Keep up the good work !
 
I know this is kinda old but thought I'd throw a short bit of my Part 135 207 experience flying from ANC to HOM at ~50' AGL (or ACI... Above Cook Inlet) and had to climb to land at HOM...same story but my feet were warm because I tinkled in my boot a couple times. Did the same thing in a 185 a time or two...sure miss those good ole days!!

The end!
 
The funny part its not the weather . weather like this is a piece of cake. They sould have been just as scared on a clear day . Its the fact they did this with one engine. I have flown like this for years BUT I have two engines,going down at night is not good
 
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