Don't you just hate green? Well, green in and of itself is not such a bad color. But there are definitely some things that are green that cause me worry.
Remember the earlier story about the plane we "affectionately" call Kermit? Well, the frog definitely had the last word on me before it was all said and done. The moral of our story is: never lock your plane up when your only key resembles that of a suitcase.
My Navigator (Jim) was a high school band director when this happened. At the time of this particular mishap, he was at Carrollton High School in Pickens County, Alabama. This was a late-season game, and for some reason we both had the day of the game free from work obligations. We decided to go to the game via plane (instead of a 45-minute drive, it would be a 20-minute flight and lots more interesting). Then we decided to do a little sightseeing before the game, so we made plans to fly over to Golden Triangle, Mississippi for a touch-and-go before heading back to West Alabama.
The day of the game was very cloudy, but there was no precipitation when we took off. The trip to Golden Triangle was uneventful, and we turned back east for a landing at Aliceville airfield (just 10 minutes away from the game). Since this was an unfamiliar airfield without so much as an FBO, I thought it best to lock the plane up securely. We then met our car ride into Carrollton.
As the game started, we both noted that there was some serious cloud cover moving in. This was followed by light but steady rain until the game was over. I was still a VFR-only pilot at the time, so I was having some concerns about being stranded for the night in this area. As it turned out, the rain wouldn't be a problem at all. We caught a ride back to the no-tower airfield around 9 pm and dashed for the plane as the car rode away. This brings us to Moral #2: always make those bringing you to the plane wait until the plane takes off before they leave.
I ran to the plane and started to perform my preflight, which for me has always started by turning the master on and lowering the flaps. I inserted the door key and turned...or tried to turn. I gave the key a little bit more force, and gasped as half the key twisted while the other half (the half actually inside the keyhole) did not twist. I must have been quite the sight as I stood there, my jaw hanging, looking at half a key in my hand.
I diplomatically explained the situation to Jim. Well, that's not exactly true. I had a few choice words about the situation, many of which would probably place me in violation of the Telecommunications Decency Act of 1996. His response was equally diplomatic (see above). The rain continued to fall, so I needed to figure something out.
After many minutes of prying and praying, we managed to coax the other half of the key out of the hole. I tried the other key on the ring, only to find it didn't fit this door. It did, however, fit in the cargo door. So I unlocked it and crawled into the plane through the cargo area (about 4 feet square at most). After unlocking the cockpit doors from the inside, I was hardly surprised to see the cargo key of course didn't work on the ignition. Once again, I'm sure the gods had much mirth watching me try to make the broken half of the cockpit door/ignition key fit in the ignition slot, much less turn it.
We even tried to mate the broken halves by walking to a nearby convenience store, borrowing a hammer, and pounding them together in the hopes they would hold together. Alas, a futile effort. For the record, this was Jim's idea. I'm increasingly convinced the whole trip was his idea, actually.
Finally admitting defeat, we
contacted the local police. Luckily, none of them new Jim from his
college days. After a brief visit to the Aliceville City Jail -- and
it was just a visit -- we hitched a ride to the Carrollton High
School football coach's house. Here, the coach was gracious
enough to loan us a vehicle so we could get back to Tuscaloosa
around midnight. We'll skip the part where our escorting policeman
decided to have a little fun at the coach's son's expense. I won't
detail it here, but let's just say...
So after all the problems I had with Kermit, it finally beat me. I never flew that green monstrosity again, and I haven't missed it's antics one bit. But I did learn to make sure I have a key that won't bend in a 7-knot headwind.
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