Takeoffs are optional

I had about 120 hours and it was seven months since my private checkride. My partner and I had acquired a nice Beechcraft Musketeer that we kept at an unused 3,000-foot landing strip next to the Pennsylvania Turnpike. There was a mountain and tunnel to the east, and a fence row of 90-foot pine trees to the west. Beyond lay a corn field and then a cut between two mountain ridges following the turnpike. Prevailing winds meant we usually took off west despite the treeline, and landed to the east.

It was a crisp November day, sparkling blue skies, and the magnificent fall colors were a gift for pilots. I planned to fly to our local GA airport, get fuel, and return. I went through my checklist at a leisurely pace then started the engine and warmed up. I did my runup, magneto check, rotated the fuel lever to Left, Both, then Right, and back to Both as per the checklist. Or so I thought. Then I ran the “what-if” scenarios in my head, visualizing both an aborted takeoff or engine loss. I turned the boost pump on, opened the throttle, taxied to the runway, and away I went.

It was a normal soft field takeoff in all respects until I reached 60 feet in altitude halfway down the runway. Then to my astonishment, the engine went to idle. Time stood still but my training kicked in and immediately my arms moved independently from any thought my brain may have had. I pushed the yoke over to its forward stop.

Those 90-foot-tall pine trees were now filling my windscreen. Amazingly, the engine caught and once again went to full power. Whew, tragedy avoided. I eased back on the yoke already on the edge of a stall and barely cleared those 90-foot-tall pine trees only to have the engine go to idle again. The passenger side of me thought, What the heck? while the pilot side was already putting the nose over with a hard right rudder into one of the most effective tools a pilot has, a forward slip. Fortunately for me, the corn had all been harvested and temperatures were low enough that my landing was on firm soil. I rolled about two-thirds of the way down that field and came to a stop next to a pile of rocks on my left. Shutting down the airplane I looked at my shaking knees and glanced between the seats at the fuel selector. That’s when I saw the lever was not in the Both detent, but just slightly off center to the right side. I had failed to secure the lever in a detent location. Mistake number one.

After a half-hour to drain the adrenaline out of my system, I took out the pilot’s operating handbook and looked up the distance for a soft-field takeoff. I walked back to the tree line, then measured the distance required to where it was go/no-go decision time, and it just happened to be next to that pile of rocks. I got back into the Musketeer and began to go through the checklist once more, this time making sure the fuel lever was in the detent for Both. I determined that if I was not off the ground by the rock pile I would shut down and call my partner who lived nearby.

Taxing back to the tree line, I turned the airplane around headed west and began my rolling short/soft-field takeoff. The Musketeer lifted off just before reaching the rock pile and this time the engine was at full power and stayed there. The cornfield slipped behind and beneath me and I cut through the mountain pass and followed the turnpike west, then headed north to the local airfield to get some fuel. After I landed and taxied to the fuel pump, I saw several fellow pilots I knew. I walked over to join in the usual hangar talk. One of the fellows turned to me and said, “What is that sticking out of your stabilizer?” When I turned to look, what did I see but a two-foot piece of a corn stalk sticking out of the tail. I would go on to become even more careful about the checklist items and strive to make better decisions. That said, I never questioned if I could perform a true soft/short-field departure again.

Thank goodness for tough CFIs. Lessons learned and humbleness restored.

James Ott is a private pilot and has logged 350 hours. He has been an AOPA member since 1991.