Flight To Oshkosh, Wisconsin, July 2011

Friday, Aug. 5

I tumbled into bed @ 1:30 a.m. this morning - absolutely too exhausted to blog. So here's "the rest of the story".

When I blogged on Wednesday night, the evening of my awful field landing, I had intended to leave the plane in the wheat field (I wrote that it was a barley field, but I was wrong,) catch a commercial flight home from Billings, and Norm and I would bring our trailer out to get it next week after the field was harvested. The farmer, Levi Hein, didn't want a truck going out into the field until after harvest - not only would it ruin more of the what, but there was a real danger of fire.

In the morning, at breakfast, either Wayne or Bob (I don't remember whom,) wondered out loud if it might be possible to dismantle the wings and roll the fuselage out of the field, then "pull a BJ" and hire a U-Haul truck and drive it home. Regardless of what we would decide, we knew we had to go out to the field, pull the wings and turn the plane upright - leaving it upside down wasn't a good idea.

I called Levi and asked him if he'd let me remove the Talon today, explaining that we'd take off the wings and walk them out the the road, then upright the plane and roll it out. He immediately agreed, and said he'd call some strong young men to help us.

When we drove back to the wheat field, we saw that the Talon wasn't as far from the farm field road as we had thought.

(click photo to view full sized image)

In 90+° heat we pulled the wings, the struts, and the cables. We were astounded to see that there seemed to be very little damage, other than to the nose of the pod.

(click photo to view full sized image)

One strut was slightly bent, but there didn't seem to be any other damage. We figured we'd see much more once we got the Talon upright. Bo Harrison, a strapping young man who obviously played football and other violent sports, drove out to help us turn it over and get everything out of the field. By 12:30 p.m. we were dripping with sweat and wheat burrs, but everything was out of the field and on the field road. My tough little GOPRO camera, which had been sitting out on the wing, wasn't damaged and had taken this shot of the wheat field just before I crashed.

(click photo to view full sized image)

We went to the Custer bar & grill, gulped huge quantities of ice water, and had lunch as I went onto the Internet to find a place to rent a truck. Thanks heavens for laptops and broadband cards! I ended up renting a Budget truck with a 24'box in Billings, for $598.40. All done on-line. Then we drove the 50+ miles to Billings (I had mentioned in Wednesday's post that we had the Laurel Airport's courtesy car,) to get the truck.

It's a behemoth!! 12'6" high, 30 feet from bumper to bumper, 8' wide when you include the external mirrors - I have to admit that my heart quailed when I saw it. I've never driven anything so huge. Two steps just to get close enough to the seat to grab ahold of the strap and pull myself up, And my heart sand when I saw that there wasn't a lift gate - and the bed was about 4.5' off the ground! I knew there was no way the three of us could lift the fuselage (with the engine still attached) up that high. So I called Bo again and asked if he'd be willing to come out and help us. He immediately said yes, and I told him we'd be there about 6:00 p.m.

I followed Bob back to Laurel so he could return the courtesy car. I was really tense driving and crept along at about 30 mph. Bob must have been very annoyed, yet he never mentioned it so perhaps I'm projecting what I would have been feeling if I'd been in his shoes. Then Bob got in the cab with us and I drove us back to Levi's wheat field.

I had already decided that I wasn't going to try and get the truck down the narrow and bumpy field road to where we had left the plane. I drove down Levi's gravel driveway to the field road and stopped the truck there. Bo was already there and Anna, Levi's girlfriend, drove up in her pickup to see what was going on. She stayed to help, and between the 5 of us it took only an hour or so to get everything in the truck and tied down.

We all went out to dinner and then Anna said "Let me drive Wayne to Hyshem (20 miles east) 'cause gas is really expensive and you don't need to do the trip in that big truck." I was delighted - for me it wasn't as much the cost of gas as the idea of driving that big truck east 20 miles and then west another 80 miles to get Bob back to Laurel. It was already almost 9:00 p.m. So I gladly said YES!!

It was 10:00 p.m. by the time I dropped Bob off at Laurel, and I just wanted to find a motel and crash. There is a Best Western in Laurel, but much to my dismay, when I went in and asked for a room, the woman just looked at me pityingly and said, "Honey, between the oil spill and the rodeo and the fair, there's not a single room to be had between here and Livingston." I soon found out that Livingston was 100 miles west! I couldn't just go to the Laurel airport and camp, because my sleeping bag and blow-up mattress were being used as padding for the wings.

So - I literally stuck out my chin and told myself "You can do it!" It was another adventure. I'm not a night owl, and I was still uncomfortable driving the truck. It's noisy and uncomfortable. Even with the seat pushed as far forward as possible, it's clear that it was never intended to be driven by a 4'11" person!

To buoy my spirits, I did a little game of cheering out loud every 10 miles, and whooping out loud when I did 25. At the 25 mile mark I congratulated myself for being 1/4 of the way there. Then a third of the way, then half, and before I knew it I was rolling into Livingston @ 12:30 a.m. I was truly exhausted yet greatly, greatly pleased with myself as I pulled into the parking lot of a Super 8 Motel.

SAME STORY!!! Not a room to be had in all of Livingston - which is right next to Gardiner, which is the gateway to Yellowstone. Tourist time and not an empty room anywhere. The front desk manager took one look at my discouraged face and said "Do you think you can make it to Bozeman? That's another 28 miles west of here." Then she called...and called...and called motels in Bozeman. There was ONE motel with ONE room left in the entire town! I didn't even ask the price - I just said "Put me on the phone and let me make a reservation."

I pulled into Bozeman @ 1:24 a.m. and didn't even think of pulling out my laptop and blogging!

As I look outside, the weather seems fine for flying. I'll be touching base with Bob and Wayne as they continue their journey, and I'll continue to blog about how they're doing. As for me, I figure it will take me another two days to get home.

Before I sign off, I want to be sure to mention the ASTOUNDING offers of help that I've gotten. Jon LaVasseur, whom I've mentioned in previous posts, called from Minnesota and offered to come out with his airplane trailer and drive me to Oregon. Charlie Brocksmith, of northeast Montana, whom I've never even met, e-mailed and offered the same thing. And my hangar mate in Oregon, Ron Barnes, also offered to get a trailer and drive out and get me, as did my long-distance flying buddy Randy Simpson. I'm overwhelmed and deeply, deeply appreciative.

As I said, I'll continue blogging for the next few nights until Wayne and Bob are safely home. I get messages from Wayne's spot - and I can tell you that he made Laurel safely.

In tonight's blog I'll also tell you what we think caused my engine failure.