The Saga of 80893

It was February 6, 1995, a beautiful day at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. I pre-flighted Cessna 80893 right after lunch, planning some "patch" work - a few touch-and-gos and maybe a bit in the practice area.

But now it was time to rub a month of rust off the brain and get busy on the next rating. I was considering instrument training and was more curious than I'd been on previous flights about instruments that I normally ignored. After checking for traffic, I rolled out onto the runway and kept going; there was no need to "take position" and then go.

As I turned onto the runway, I noticed that the turn indicator was standing on one wing; I'd never noticed that before because I was always to busy concentrating on the takeoff. But I noticed it this time, and wondered about it; it was so extreme. I switched my attention back to the engine and airspeed indicators just in time to see that I was already at rotation speed! So I rotated and immediately left the runway - and felt the ground effect.

Now this was a Cessna 172 with an 180 HP engine, and it was a cool day in February. Normally I never felt ground effect; 80893 jumped right through it too quickly to be noticed. But I did notice it this day, and that was unusual. I didn't understand what has happening so I instantly decided to abort and sort things out on the ground. It was to be the ONLY correct decision I made that day.

But the Cessna refused to set down! I fought with it a second or two before I noticed that the throttle was not fully off - so I pulled it off and by the time the plane settled down on the runway, I was looking at the REILs (Runway End Indicator Lights) less than 1000 feet away. I braked as best I could but the plane hardly slowed and now was drifting to the right uncontrollably. I could see that the prop was about to remove the inner-most REIL from the set to the right and I worried about the grief I would get from the airport manager about that!

And a small voice in the back of my mind announced: "That's not the issue at the moment."

There isn't much run-out at Boulder. The runway has been artificially extended to the east by landfill, with the effect that the end of the runout is the end. It drops 20 or 30 feet to a farmer's field below.

Nonetheless I did slow the aircraft considerably, and had it not been that I couldn't control the drift to the right, I'd have stopped it. There's more grass to the left than to the right. As it was, I had slowed to perhaps 20 knots or less when I ran out of grass. And became airborne - like a rock.

If you've analyzed what I'd done so far, you probably won't be surprised at my next actions. The plane ka-wumped hard at the bottom of the drop, crumpling the nose wheel and right main gear. I sat there a moment, listening to the wheeuu-wheeuu-wheeuu in my headset and thinking that must be what an ELT sounds like. Yep. That's what it sounds like.
 
Fuel was seeping from several leaks in both tanks, and I decided I'd better let somebody know I'd boo-booed. So I keyed the mike and called Unicom. Like I said: only ONE right decision in the whole "flight". Nobody answered (I learned later that they heard me, although I couldn't hear them) so I switched frequencies and keyed the mike again to call the FBO. Same result. I opened the door and crawled out through the dripping fuel and up the hill. There I started walking back down the runway, trying to think of some smart-aleck remark I could make to cover this one.

I didn't get far before I met one of the mechanics from a neighboring FBO running on foot with a fire extinquisher under his arm. As he ran by, he asked if I'd turned off the ignition; to which I dumbfoundedly admitted: "No, I didn't turn anything off!" He kept going, shouting back that he'd take care of it.

Right behind him came a crowd of pilots and mechanics from both FBOs, followed in turn by police, fire, ambulance - my goodness, I certainly caused quite a stir!

Analysis

It took me some time to sort out the facts in my own memory - in particular, the several details I can not remember. I am especially grateful to the FBO, John Weisbart, for gently suggesting that perhaps the reason I can not remember certain details is that those details did not happen. If I assume that John's suggestion is valid, then all of what I do remember makes complete sense.

I've made a list of the mistakes I made; no doubt you seasoned CFI's can point out a few more.

1. This accident began before I got in the airplane; I started with the wrong focus. I was trying to notice the instruments more than I had before, in anticipation of instrument training. There's nothing wrong with widening one's awareness, but I let myself focus on the new awareness to the detriment of the task at hand.

 
2. I do not remember tightening the friction lock on the throttle. It's on the check list, which was in my lap as I went through the pre-flight runup procedure, but I do not remember doing it. Assume it was loose.

 
3. When I rolled out on the runway, I made a sharp 90-degree turn much like a car cornering: a much sharper turn than can be experienced in flight. The turn-indicator stood on one wing, as it should. I'd never specifically focused on it before, because I should not have done so. This time, I did look at it, and fixated momentarily. At takeoff, only the heading, engine, and airspeed indicators have any significance, and only those should be watched during this most critical phase of the whole flight. All other instruments could fall out of the airplane and not prevent a safe return and landing of the plane. Elementary stuff - first lesson stuff - but I allowed myself to be distracted.

 
4. I don't remember taking my hand off the throttle, but I do remember the many student hours when my instructors screamed at me to keep it there. (Well, maybe not "screamed", but I was told, many, many times.) I suspect I moved my right hand to the yoke so that the left hand could tap the turn indicator. Why would I tap the turn indicator? Because people do things like that: e.g., they kick the tires of a car when they contemplate its purchase. Anyway, I do remember tapping the indicator, which means I moved my right hand.

 
5. I sensed something abnormal when I rotated: ground effect. The throttle must have retarded slightly so that less than full power was in effect, but not so much that the sound of the engine was significantly different. That could happen if the friction lock were loose. I didn't know what was happening, so I decided best to abort and figure it out on the ground rather than 100 feet in the air. I pushed the yoke forward. I did not first move the throttle to idle, as is demanded in the Emergency Procedures. In fact, I never thought about any emergency procedure.

 
6. Witnesses report that my plane porpoised down the runway several times before settling down. I don't remember this but I have no doubt it happened; I apparently wasn't thinking clearly.

 
7. I do remember having difficulty making the plane set down, and glancing down at the throttle. I was surprised to see the throttle; and I concluded that my hand should prevented me from seeing it; therefore my hand was not on it; therefore I needed to move my hand back to it. I was trying to abort without removing power. (I also remember that the throttle was not fully on, indicating that it had indeed vibrated back a little.)

 
8. I finally pulled the throttle off after several seconds - but nothing else. The master fuel valve, mixture, carb heat, master switch, and the ignition switch were untouched.

 
9. When I looked up, I was surprised to see that so little of the runway was left. I should have been aware of it sooner.

 
10. I hit the brakes hard and locked them - a full panic stop. The skid marks show that the right tire blew about 400 feet short of the end; that was what pulled me to the right. The left tire showed a couple of layers of fabric, but it didn't blow.

 
11. By this time, I should have had the door unlatched, but didn't. Not that it contributed, but a mistake nonetheless.

 
12. I also should have hollered "Mayday" on the Unicom, but maybe I could be excused for that one in the midst of all my panic. Still, a mistake.

 
13. Over the hill I went, and not to grandmother's house. When motion stopped, I sat still, listening to the ELT bleed through the com unit, and tried to think. Fuel was already beginning to drip; I should have scurried out as quickly as possible and gotten as far from that ticking bomb as I could go. But I sat there, trying to think.

 
14. But the biggest stupidity was what I decided to do, after thinking about it all for a moment: I keyed the mike to report what I'd done!

 
15. And if that wasn't enough, I switched frequencies and keyed the mike again! With the cockpit reeking of fuel and visible dripping outside the door, I keyed electrical equipment on and off, twice. Apparently the Good Lord didn't want me in His FBO just yet, because nothing happened.

I immediately signed up another airplane and an instructor to spend the next two months going over every emergency procedure we could think of, as well as reviewing all the basic skills. The FAA insisted on a re-test check ride, and I passed. 

Cessna 80893 was bent but not destroyed. They straightened out the kinks in the wings and fuselage, rebuilt the nose, engine, and undercarriage, and replaced the prop. She got a new paint job and now looks and smells like new.

Eight-Niner-Three flies better now than before I bent her, and so do I.

Back to my aviation page.

Click here for the NTSB final report.