Posted: 2003-01-23 20:14
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Good to hear a few words about working the Budworm. Spent the summer of '88 flying in the 172's watching you guys muscling those beasts around - impressive. Three accidents, 1 fatal, in the span of three months seemed a tad high but made for a most exciting summer and gave me new respect for the cowboys in the cockpits. Heard FPL got rid of the TBM's for Ag-tractors.
Looking forward to the next chapter.
Zed.
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Just Curious
Joined: Nov 06, 2001
Posts: 650
From: Frozen North
Posted: 2003-01-23 23:24
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Quote:
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JUST CURIOUS....my TBM in Miramachi?
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Yellow cheat line, orange tail...called final about 30 miles out? Yeah, your TBM!
I'll scan the picture and send it to you. I'd post it here, but that would reveal my secret identity...no wait, I was skinny and had all my hair in this, so no-one will recognize me
And Schooner, if you're talkin' Ralph Annis...You mean he flew something else besides Sabres? Didn't know he had any other kind of stories!
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Duke Elegant
Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 259 Posted: 2003-01-23 23:45
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Schooner69
It was Frank Gillan...from Comox.....fierce competitor!
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Posted: 2003-01-24 11:02
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250 KTS ON FINAL:
The long runway sure was coming up fast.
I had to decide where to cut the mixture.What happens WHEN I cut the mixture? I see smoke on both sides of the cockpit..puffs.WOW! Look at all those fighter jets lined up, canopies open.
NOW! I pulled the mixture....
Two thousand horsepower to zero...I wasn't prepared for what happened next. With a violent yaw, my helmet banged the side canopy..hard..my body slammed forward into my harness as the prop hissed loudly on its way to fine..She dived..****!..It was all those trims cranked in that took over.
The silence was deafening. The tongue of flame that shot down both sides of the airplane was gone.
The prop was discing lots of drag so I had to push hard on the stick...airspeed decreasing RAPIDLY...full forward...
I'm gonna be short..****!
I reach for the mixture..worth a try..slam it forward...
ZERO HORSEPOWER TO 2000 HORSEPOWER!.. In a heartbeat!.I wasn't prepared for what happened next.
The noise,incredible..with a violent yaw my helmet bangs other side of canopy .YAW..youv'e never seen anything like it...Flames along with a whole ****load of POWER.She pitches up then BAMM! She came apart...GRIIIIND! and the prop stops just as I flare over the numbers..NO ****!
I had flared high and she came down hard. I had 650US gallons of poison onboard. Even though I had MILES of runway ahead I tried jamming the brakes but my rubbery legs wouldn't work.It stopped..the clicking sound could be heard over the noise of the approaching helicopter...it was cooling down.
I grabbed my helmet and stepped out onto the wing just as everybody showed up.
Even a photographer. Well you all know how shy I am around cameras and microphones.
A van load of excited young fighter pilots came and took me to the mess for coffee. They laughed..and laughed..they had seen nothing like it in their lives. They joked that I was seen on radar..coming in low..AND FAST. Was I some sort of target?
More to follow...over.
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Duke Elegant
Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 259 Posted: 2003-01-24 12:04
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Well that was it for the season...or so I thought.
I thought of Frank, last seen flying slowly around my plane when I was getting out onto the wing and then droning off in the direction of Dunphy.
They flew me back to Dunphy in a Bell206 and I got to retrace my flight path over trees, small lakes and meadows.
I had decided to retain my load of chemical, remember. I got out of the helicopter with my helmet bag and maps poked into my flightsuit, to be greeted by most of the base personell. And Frank: in my ****in' face, gesturing wildly towards Farrell's plane sitting beside his still loaded TBM.
It was still cool enough to spray.
Another hundred bucks.
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