Dead Reckoning

So it came to pass that I managed to managed to blunder across the country in two different twin Otters last week without klacking into anything, burning out any expensive engines or getting TOO lost.  After ducking under the Houston class B airspace I followed the magenta line on my GPS to what was supposed to be Skydive Spaceland and got my first look at their runway.  It was a narrow, short strip of concrete with powerlines right off the approach end effectivly making it even shorter, did I mention it was narrow?  I set up a steep approach to avoid hitting the power lines, and spoiling my perfect record, plonked the big bird down, cranked the propellers into reverse and wrestled with the tiller bar to try and stay on the six inches of spare runway on either side of the mains.

When I parked the plane and fell jumped out I was greeted by my old friend Rabbit who had flown for me a few years back and had checked me out in the Otter.  After usual male pilot greetings Rabbit asked me what I wanted to do after my long trip, make a skydive? Have some lunch? Drink beer?  As appealing as those options were I told him that  after two days of non-stop flying I would like nothing more than to do some more flying and would you be so kind as to teach me how to drive your Cessna Grand Caravan.  The beer drinking option sounded best but CB Aviation, the ferry company I fly for, asked me to get checked out in the Caravan if I could because they had a few that needed moved this winter.

We climbed into the cockpit and Rabbit spent a few minutes teaching me how to start the 900 hp beast and the few unusual emergency procedures that were particular to the Caravan.  For a ferry pilot this was a luxury, usually when I show up to ferry a plane I’ve never flown before I’d have to learn how to fly it my self because the old owner had his money and didn’t want to risk damaging the plane and the new owner was on the other side of the planet.  After a whole ten minutes of ground school we picked up a load of skydivers, taxied to the end of the runway and took off.  I was impressed with the climb rate of the Super Caravan but it was the 4000 foot per minute descent rate that really got my attention.  I flew a few a more loads for good mesure, safety first you know, then went back to Rabbit’s den to talk smart and finally drink those beers.  Now I know how to fly a Caravan, yay for me.

I love flying and I love ferry flying but I love ferry flying in the winter..um..less.  This week it was time to move the Twin Otter we leased for the season back down to Texas.  The owner asked me if I’d do him a favor and swap Otters for him by flying the Otter in Wisconsin to Skydive Orange in Virginia then flying the Otter that was there to Houston.  My little adventure started out with a short eighteen mile flight from Skydive Twin Cities to the airport close to my home so I could get an early start the next morning.  Before taking off I checked the weather and was told that apart from a few snow showers the conditions were VFR with four thousand foot ceilings and ten mile visibility.  After takeoff I began to doubt the accuracy of the forecast I’d received because I appeared to be flying inside a well shaken snow globe and couldn’t see more than one mile.  Now a smart lesser pilot would have promptly turned around and landed but I’m sort of a glass is half full kind of guy and being very familiar with the area and having a good GPS and instrument skills to fall back on I pressed on.  It got kind of sporty  for a few minutes but I managed to get the big lumbering beast to the correct airport.

Sunrise found me staring at the beautiful sight of Dehavilland Super Twin Otter sparkling on the ramp.  Unfourtunatley it was sparkling because it was covered in lift killing  frost.  I knew I should’ve found a broom and a ladder and polished the frost on the wings smooth but I figured that working that high off the ground in slippery conditions was more dangerous than flying with frost on the wings, and anyway with just me in in the plane it should get off the ground just fine, frost or no frost, so I scraped the windscreen clean with my Master card and took off.  Once I got in the air I immediatley began to regret my choice of foot wear.  I’d know it would be cold, no heat in the Otter, and had bundled up in long underwear, ski gloves, hat and jacket but had elected to just wear tennis shoes with an extra pair of socks.  I spent the rest of the four hour flight with all the extra clothes I’d brought along wraped around my feet to try and keep them from freezing solid.

When I got to Virginia the pilot of the next Otter I was to fly wasn’t there to brief me on that plane but the squawk list told me why this aircraft needed to go to back to Texas for some major maintenance.  Left generator out, left torque gauge inop, left temp gauge 100 degrees off, one landing light out, all three tires bald with the cords showing and the list went on and on.  Great.  The sun was setting as I taxied for takeoff and I almost elected to abort and do the flight the next day because the first time you fly a strange plane shouldn’t be a night cross country, but I think I’ve already pointed out that I’m not all that smart.  A half an hour into the flight the list of problems with the Otter got a little longer.  With the sun finally disappearing on the horizon I turned on the cockpit lights only to find that about half of them didn’t work, including the altimeter light and most importantly the artificial horizon.  I had a head lamp with me but the thought of flying for seven hours by flashlight didn’t really sound like that much fun.  Now I don’t want you to think I was too scared to fly half way across the country in a plane with only one working generator and no instrument lights, no I landed two hours later and called it night because my low beer light was going off, not because I was scared.  Gotta have your priorities straight.

Well the 2012 skydiving season at Skydive Twin Cities has come to an end and it’s time to shut the power off, blow out the water lines and put the airport to bed for the winter.  After that there is only one thing left to do before I start my six month vacation, move the Twin Otter back to Texas.  I was looking forward to this flight because not only would it be a nice little cross country trip but when I got to Houston I’m going to get checked out in the Cessna Grand Caravan.  I really need to get some time in this type of aircraft because CB Aviation is bidding on some ferry flights this winter and a lot of them are Caravans, including one from Oslo to Nepal.  Unfourtunetly when I talked to my good friend and chief pilot at Skydive Spaceland Rabbit, he informed me that the Otter needed to be flown to Orange Skydivers in Virginia where I would pick up a different Twin Otter and fly that one back to Houston.  So my quick little five hour flight has turned into a thirteen hour or so slog.  To make matters worse I woke up this morning only to see that a nice little cold front will be marching it’s way across the US and generally making my life difficult.  I supposed I could make my pilot do the flight but then I wouldn’t get checked out in the Caravan.  Crap.  Oh well, at least I’ll get some more cross country time in my log book, because I really need that…..not.