Never Again: In For A Bumpy Ride

One day Bart told me he would like to see his place and the surrounding area by air. I was a private pilot with all of 150 hours under my belt and jumped at the chance to do Bart a favor. We talked about the best place to pick him up. I don’t know why I didn’t just offer to pick him up in my car and take him to the airport with me. It was probably because I wanted to demonstrate the flexibility and utility of small airplanes. Why inconvenience him with a drive all the way down to the Tamiami airport just to fly back up north to his place?

Besides, there was a good-looking mowed, open grass field just north of his place about a quarter mile up the dirt road. The field was about 400 feet wide and about 1,000 feet long. Power lines ran along the road at the east side of the field, but the length of the field ran north and south with no obstructions across it. Landing and takeoff to the south should be a breeze in the club’s Aeronca Tri-Champ.

The weather for the weekend was forecast to be great. I would drive down to Tamiami early Sunday afternoon and fly the airplane to his place to pick him up. I would “buzz” his home to let him know I was there, and he would come up to the field where I had landed.

Everything went according to plan. The flight from Tamiami to Bart’s place was enjoyable. I overflew the house, and—after a wave from Bart—headed for the field. It looked different. It had always been solid green grass before, but now there were mysterious dark-colored strips running across it from east to west. I “dragged” the field at low altitude, but I still could not make out what those dark strips were. They did not look particularly menacing, so I set up for a soft-field approach and landing to the south.

Touchdown was at minimum airspeed with the nosegear well off the ground. The field was a lot rougher than I had expected. I held the nosegear off as long as I could, easing it down at slow speed. As I taxied to the east side of the field next to the road it became apparent what the black strips were. The field was a sod field that had recently been harvested. When a sod field is harvested, a machine cuts out a long strip of sod about one foot wide and rolls it up. After harvesting, the grass in the strips not harvested grows back into the dirt strips over time. The sod strips when you buy them are about two inches thick. The field was so rough because it had two-inch bumps running across it.

I had no desire to put the nosegear assembly through that test again. Taking off to the east was not a viable option because of the power lines. I could position the airplane pointing west with its tail just clear of the road and under the power lines, however. The three-foot-high wire fencing running along the west edge of the field gave me pause. It looked kind of close. I felt certain that with just me in it the Tri-Champ would clear the fence. But what about Bart’s extra weight? He probably weighed 165 to 170 pounds.

The smart thing to do at this point would have been to explain to Bart that since the field had just been harvested and now required taking off in the short direction, we should try again on another day with a different plan. I took pride in being a cautious and safe pilot, so why didn’t I do that? I suppose I did not want to disappoint a good friend. I finally concluded that if it looked like we would not clear the fence during the takeoff roll, at least I would be going fast enough for the ailerons and rudder to have good aerodynamic effect. So after about 300 feet of roll with the nosegear off the ground I could perform a coordinated 90-degree turn to the left on the left main gear, leaving us heading south with another 500 feet to go to the southern boundary fence. At this point we would be going across the strips again, but only with the mains and with reduced weight on wheels. What an idiotic idea. It’s amazing what one’s mind can come up with.

I discussed the plan with Bart. He wasn’t a pilot so he didn’t know the difference. He trusted me. Using my best short/soft-field takeoff technique, I commenced the roll. The airplane accelerated normally and the nosewheel lifted. However, the airspeed indicator wasn’t reacting very quickly. It soon became apparent that we would not clear the fence and that the left turn procedure would be required. The fact that I managed to pull it off still amazes me, but it worked out as planned, although we had scrubbed of some speed in the process. We cleared the fence at the south edge of the field by about three feet.

After a flight around the area we landed in the same field, this time to the east parallel to the sod strips. Getting into 400 feet was a breeze. I taxied the airplane to the eastern edge and spun it around to put the tail back under the power lines. We shut down, got out, and chatted awhile. Bart was appreciative of the airplane ride and had enjoyed seeing his place from the air. With the airplane pointed west again, I started the engine and after the normal checks, commenced the takeoff roll. With just me in it, the Tri-Champ became airborne in about 250 feet and cleared the fence by about 30 feet. What a difference 170 pounds can make in that airplane.

Tom Haack of Palm City, Florida, holds commercial single- and multiengine land and flight instructor certificates and instrument ratings. He has logged approximately 4,500 hours.