Crazies At The Gliderport

[Bob Youngblood]

I recently thought that I had seen it all until someone informed me that a guy was taking his dog for a glider ride. Now please understand I love dogs, have a wonderful Yellow Lab and treat her like our kid. Really never thought dogs and planes went well together, but what in the world would any responsible glider pilot think by taking his dog along for a ride in the single seat glider???
Can you imagine what the dog was going through as the owner pilot did about 1 hour of thermal turns and the dog got so sick that it puked all over the cockpit!!! Another rocket scientist member brings his dog to the hangar and ties it to a picnic table where an individual trips over the lanyard and almost does a belly flop on the concrete floor. What in the world will the next person bring? I am taking bets on an African Grey Parrot, maybe a Python from the Everglades, or could it be a pet Armadillo. I certainly hope the rest of you get smaller pets that require no flight training. Bob

[[email protected]]

We had a CFIG, that took his Dachson(sp?) along at least once every weekend. The dog, speedy, loved it and was very well airport trained. And then there was the tow pilot at Turf that flew with his terrier in the back window of the pawnee on every flight!

[[email protected]]

This might be actual real life implementation of the theory that all modern airliners only require a pilot and a dog in the cockpit. The pilot's job is to feed the dog. The dog's job is to bite the pilot if he touches anything.

[Bob Youngblood]

On Monday, February 24, 2020 at 7:12:21 PM UTC-5, wrote:
> This might be actual real life implementation of the theory that all modern airliners only require a pilot and a dog in the cockpit. The pilot's job is to feed the dog. The dog's job is to bite the pilot if he touches anything.

Great humor!!! I forgot, the Iguanas are the favorite pet of Florida. Bob

[Shaun Wheeler]

I'm a beekeeper but my bees seem to fly just fine without my help.

[Don Johnstone[_4_]]

At 01:33 25 February 2020, Shaun Wheeler wrote:
>I'm a beekeeper but my bees seem to fly just fine without my help.
>
If you took you bees flying with you in your glider, would they add to
the mass of the glider if they remained airborne all the while you were
airborne?

[Shaun Wheeler]

According to my calculations they do not add to it. That's only an issue with fully laden European swallows.

[Jock Proudfoot]

At 22:24 24 February 2020, Bob Youngblood wrote:
. Really never
>thought dogs and planes went well together, but what in the world
would any
>res=
>ponsible glider pilot think by taking his dog along for a ride a
>Pyth=
>on from the Everglades, or could it be a pet Armadillo. I certainly
hope
>th=
>e rest of you get smaller pets that require no flight training. Bob
>

Art Scholl and Aileron
https://airandspace.si.edu/multimedia-gallery/perch017jpg

[Carl Tunnicliffe]

At 05:08 25 February 2020, Jock Proudfoot wrote:
>At 22:24 24 February 2020, Bob Youngblood wrote:
>

This chap has precedence on his side - back just post-war, Prince Bira of
Siam used to always fly his gliders with his pet dog, Titch, in the plane
with him.

Look him up - was an interesting chap!!

[MMOORE]

Flight training for chickens

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8DBNig3yx0

[John Cochrane[_3_]]

Soaring magazine had an article a while ago summarizing a crash involving a dog in flight. Basically the dog was such a distraction that the pilot didn't notice spoilers open on tow, or off tow, or at all until impacting the ground. It was 1 pilot 1 dog in a 2 place glider. Maybe dog on lap of passenger might work.

John Cochrane BB

[danlj]

On Tuesday, February 25, 2020 at 1:11:06 PM UTC-6, John Cochrane wrote:
> Soaring magazine had an article a while ago summarizing a crash involving a dog in flight. Basically the dog was such a distraction that the pilot didn't notice spoilers open on tow, or off tow, or at all until impacting the ground. It was 1 pilot 1 dog in a 2 place glider. Maybe dog on lap of passenger might work.
>
> John Cochrane BB

It took about 45 seconds to bring up the NTSB aircraft-accident database and search for all reports containing " dog " -- 203 items in 21 pages. No, I've not read them all.

Basically, even a normally well-behaved dog may panic in the strange environment of an aircraft, so dogs, cattle, mice, snakes, spiders, etc. need to be secured in a way that prevents interference with any control or operation of the canopy release or BRS...

Dan Johnson

[BobW]

On 2/26/2020 10:54 AM, danlj wrote:
> On Tuesday, February 25, 2020 at 1:11:06 PM UTC-6, John Cochrane wrote:
>> Soaring magazine had an article a while ago summarizing a crash involving
>> a dog in flight. Basically the dog was such a distraction that the pilot
>> didn't notice spoilers open on tow, or off tow, or at all until impacting
>> the ground. It was 1 pilot 1 dog in a 2 place glider. Maybe dog on lap of
>> passenger might work.
>>
>> John Cochrane BB
>
> It took about 45 seconds to bring up the NTSB aircraft-accident database
> and search for all reports containing " dog " -- 203 items in 21 pages.
> No, I've not read them all.
>
> Basically, even a normally well-behaved dog may panic in the strange
> environment of an aircraft, so dogs, cattle, mice, snakes, spiders, etc.
> need to be secured in a way that prevents interference with any control or
> operation of the canopy release or BRS...
>
> Dan Johnson

And further in the head-shakingly, gobsmacked, I can't believe what I'm
seeing, temporarily-speechless vein, here's my dog meets glider story. Names
'redacted' to protect the innocent (dogs, I mean, mostly, ha ha!)

So there we wuz at a glider camp in the rural wilds of the Texas panhandle, an
annually-favored location for a bunch of Boulder/Front Range (CO) glider/club
types to kick back from the locationally/situationally/traffically driven
rigors imposed on those Joe Glider Pilots flying from Boulder's municipal A/P.
We were in the home of the brave and the land of the free, where the buffalo
used to roam, and - if the peach fuzz on Joe Landed-Out Glider Pilot's cheeks
was still fresh - a local might even be so kind as to quietly advise JL-OGP
that farmers and cowboys are different species, instead of pulling their
hogleg for the ignorant insult of incorrect categorization. In Texas, a
prudent man chooses his insults wisely.

We effete Front Range city-boy weenies loved it not only for its
XC-friendliness for wannabe XC types (no gliders harmed in in 20 years of
OFLs; 1 gear-up - at the A/P - way back 1990-ish; uncounted XC careers
launched), but - hell, boys! - we were in *Texas* where men are men and the 3
most common lies uttered by many of those men are: 1) I won this belt buckle
in the rodeo; 2) I made this snakeskin belt all by myself; and 3) I was just
helpin' this here heifer across that bob-warh fence. And if he offered you a
beer while making those claims, even better, cuz there ain't much future in
calling a Texican a liar, nor ain't there no worse insult than refusing a
freely-offered drink!

While it's true you can pretty easily tell a Texican, it's also true you can't
tell him much, so best not to waste your breath. So the locals tolerated us
and our strange lies, while we pretended to like Lone Star Beer and maintained
Coloradans and Texicans got along fine together in Colorado - no hard feelings
on either side. Hell...we were on vacation, strangers in a strange land, whose
biggest problems all week were figgerin' out how to fill in the few
non-soaring hours that occasionally drearified our carefree existences. Sleep,
breakfast, rig, wait for the day to pop, soar until we wanted to puke, land,
eat dinner; rinse and repeat...

Life was good.

Once the club's 2-seaters began to put in regular appearances at the camp,
even the problem of throwing a sniffer aloft vanished...instruction and such,
you know. Life was now GREAT!!!

Every morning the airport routine was the same..hang around in the only
air-conditioned, tired, melting-slowly-into-the-WW-II concrete, pilot's lounge
while keeping our beady eyes out for the day's first victim. Unvarnished
self-interest always saw someone wandering out onto the ramp once it appeared
Joe Guinea Pig self-identified and the protocol was to pretend to be only
trying to help out (like that heifer!) outta the concerned goodness in one's
heart. On the day in question, Mr. Just(-offering help if you want any, take
your time, no rush) was me.

Apparently someone was going to take the twin solo...no student or passenger
in sight, just the presumed-pilot's boisterous, large, Weimaraner bouncing
around. Apparently as one final act of kindness to ye mutt before being
banishing it to a piece of string near a water bowl in the shade while JGP
went off and did his thing, ye mutt is given what I presumed to be a few
moments of rear seat time...sort of a doggy glider camp treat sort of thing I
guessed. My wife is a dog lover; I've seen stranger indulgences granted many a
mutt...

Further bemused ponderation witnessed ye mutt being buckled in. So far JGP
hasn't said a word to me about his intentions, nor have I asked; if you need
my help, here I am sort of thing. Gradually it dawns on me that JGP
almost-certainly intends to take aloft ye mutt, leaving me even more
speechless than I already had been. Words like "Surely you jest!" begin
forming in my skull, as my internal dynamic morphed to include the
curiosity-killed-the cat wait-n-see possibility.

Boys, we seemed to have a developing situation. We're at a low-key,
expand-your-personal-boundaries, throw off your Boulder-imposed rigorosities,
camp. Friends among friends, where greater experience is freely shared with
any seeking to increase their own - safely of course. As the greater
experienced glider pilot (at that time), I suppose you could argue it was my
responsibility to speak up...once I was 100% certain that the bounds or
reasonably-prudent silliness were abut to be exceeded, but - it's my story and
I'm sticking to it - I WASN'T 100% certain, and not a word had been said
between us. It seemed a shame to possibly harsh the morning buzz by jumping
the gun, so to speak.

In a deus-ex-machina moment, the tuggie broke the spell; he'd been watching
from the air-conditioned lounge. A take charge kind of guy, he marches out and
sez, "If you think I'm towing you with that dog in the back seat, it ain't
gonna happen!" JGP, still silent, straightens up and - still without a word
being uttered - gazes briefly at the tuggie with a look of, "Really?!?"...then
proceeds - still silently - to undo doggie's straps. The tuggie and I exchange
silent glances; I'm pretty sure we're gonna have a private "WTF were you
allowing to happen out there?" conversation; no sense gratuitously publicly
embarrassing someone. Dick - the tuggie - shakes his head once and returns to
wait some more in the air-conned lounge; I remained a silent witness as ye
mutt was banished to his string and the day's first tow was soon-enough made,
with my hookup/wing-tip-running help. I'm still gobsmacked by the entire weird
experience - it's almost an out-of-body, did this actually happen? fading
memory by the time we launched JGP.

I launched soon after and returned as usual around sunset; except for the few
cheap (rhymes with 'dastard') glider pilots like myself who preferred to camp
at the airport 7 miles outside of town, Dick had closed up shop and gone into
town for the night. Next morning he buttonholes me. We have our "WTF was THAT
all about?!?" conversation. I explained my perspective of events. ("Honest to
God, Dick, no way was I going to help launch a dog...but until you 'broke the
spell' the issue of 'does he really mean to?' was still in doubt!") We laughed
about it for years. The JGP in question - so as I'm aware - never broached the
situation topically with either of us, or anyone else, ever. Ye mutt was
likely mollified with a few doggie treats. I have no idea if any other camp
participants were even aware of that morning's curiouser-and-curioser situation.

But the best part of the entire weird scenarios was that particular JGP
subsequently grew (and continues to grow) his soaring skills to where he's one
of Boulder's farthest-flying sailplane pilots each year, obtained his CFIG,
and has created (and continues to support) some nationally-known and
near-universally-used soaring software. He survived his decade of youthful
foolishness with no life-threatening injuries.

Man! Some of the really foolish things most of us have done and survived!!!
(They're hilarious...except for those times they ain't.)

Bob W.

[Bob Youngblood]

On Wednesday, February 26, 2020 at 3:28:10 PM UTC-5, BobW wrote:
> On 2/26/2020 10:54 AM, danlj wrote:
> > On Tuesday, February 25, 2020 at 1:11:06 PM UTC-6, John Cochrane wrote:
> >> Soaring magazine had an article a while ago summarizing a crash involving
> >> a dog in flight. Basically the dog was such a distraction that the pilot
> >> didn't notice spoilers open on tow, or off tow, or at all until impacting
> >> the ground. It was 1 pilot 1 dog in a 2 place glider. Maybe dog on lap of
> >> passenger might work.
> >>
> >> John Cochrane BB
> >
> > It took about 45 seconds to bring up the NTSB aircraft-accident database
> > and search for all reports containing " dog " -- 203 items in 21 pages.
> > No, I've not read them all.
> >
> > Basically, even a normally well-behaved dog may panic in the strange
> > environment of an aircraft, so dogs, cattle, mice, snakes, spiders, etc.
> > need to be secured in a way that prevents interference with any control or
> > operation of the canopy release or BRS...
> >
> > Dan Johnson
>
> And further in the head-shakingly, gobsmacked, I can't believe what I'm
> seeing, temporarily-speechless vein, here's my dog meets glider story. Names
> 'redacted' to protect the innocent (dogs, I mean, mostly, ha ha!)
>
> So there we wuz at a glider camp in the rural wilds of the Texas panhandle, an
> annually-favored location for a bunch of Boulder/Front Range (CO) glider/club
> types to kick back from the locationally/situationally/traffically driven
> rigors imposed on those Joe Glider Pilots flying from Boulder's municipal A/P.
> We were in the home of the brave and the land of the free, where the buffalo
> used to roam, and - if the peach fuzz on Joe Landed-Out Glider Pilot's cheeks
> was still fresh - a local might even be so kind as to quietly advise JL-OGP
> that farmers and cowboys are different species, instead of pulling their
> hogleg for the ignorant insult of incorrect categorization. In Texas, a
> prudent man chooses his insults wisely.
>
> We effete Front Range city-boy weenies loved it not only for its
> XC-friendliness for wannabe XC types (no gliders harmed in in 20 years of
> OFLs; 1 gear-up - at the A/P - way back 1990-ish; uncounted XC careers
> launched), but - hell, boys! - we were in *Texas* where men are men and the 3
> most common lies uttered by many of those men are: 1) I won this belt buckle
> in the rodeo; 2) I made this snakeskin belt all by myself; and 3) I was just
> helpin' this here heifer across that bob-warh fence. And if he offered you a
> beer while making those claims, even better, cuz there ain't much future in
> calling a Texican a liar, nor ain't there no worse insult than refusing a
> freely-offered drink!
>
> While it's true you can pretty easily tell a Texican, it's also true you can't
> tell him much, so best not to waste your breath. So the locals tolerated us
> and our strange lies, while we pretended to like Lone Star Beer and maintained
> Coloradans and Texicans got along fine together in Colorado - no hard feelings
> on either side. Hell...we were on vacation, strangers in a strange land, whose
> biggest problems all week were figgerin' out how to fill in the few
> non-soaring hours that occasionally drearified our carefree existences. Sleep,
> breakfast, rig, wait for the day to pop, soar until we wanted to puke, land,
> eat dinner; rinse and repeat...
>
> Life was good.
>
> Once the club's 2-seaters began to put in regular appearances at the camp,
> even the problem of throwing a sniffer aloft vanished...instruction and such,
> you know. Life was now GREAT!!!
>
> Every morning the airport routine was the same..hang around in the only
> air-conditioned, tired, melting-slowly-into-the-WW-II concrete, pilot's lounge
> while keeping our beady eyes out for the day's first victim. Unvarnished
> self-interest always saw someone wandering out onto the ramp once it appeared
> Joe Guinea Pig self-identified and the protocol was to pretend to be only
> trying to help out (like that heifer!) outta the concerned goodness in one's
> heart. On the day in question, Mr. Just(-offering help if you want any, take
> your time, no rush) was me.
>
> Apparently someone was going to take the twin solo...no student or passenger
> in sight, just the presumed-pilot's boisterous, large, Weimaraner bouncing
> around. Apparently as one final act of kindness to ye mutt before being
> banishing it to a piece of string near a water bowl in the shade while JGP
> went off and did his thing, ye mutt is given what I presumed to be a few
> moments of rear seat time...sort of a doggy glider camp treat sort of thing I
> guessed. My wife is a dog lover; I've seen stranger indulgences granted many a
> mutt...
>
> Further bemused ponderation witnessed ye mutt being buckled in. So far JGP
> hasn't said a word to me about his intentions, nor have I asked; if you need
> my help, here I am sort of thing. Gradually it dawns on me that JGP
> almost-certainly intends to take aloft ye mutt, leaving me even more
> speechless than I already had been. Words like "Surely you jest!" begin
> forming in my skull, as my internal dynamic morphed to include the
> curiosity-killed-the cat wait-n-see possibility.
>
> Boys, we seemed to have a developing situation. We're at a low-key,
> expand-your-personal-boundaries, throw off your Boulder-imposed rigorosities,
> camp. Friends among friends, where greater experience is freely shared with
> any seeking to increase their own - safely of course. As the greater
> experienced glider pilot (at that time), I suppose you could argue it was my
> responsibility to speak up...once I was 100% certain that the bounds or
> reasonably-prudent silliness were abut to be exceeded, but - it's my story and
> I'm sticking to it - I WASN'T 100% certain, and not a word had been said
> between us. It seemed a shame to possibly harsh the morning buzz by jumping
> the gun, so to speak.
>
> In a deus-ex-machina moment, the tuggie broke the spell; he'd been watching
> from the air-conditioned lounge. A take charge kind of guy, he marches out and
> sez, "If you think I'm towing you with that dog in the back seat, it ain't
> gonna happen!" JGP, still silent, straightens up and - still without a word
> being uttered - gazes briefly at the tuggie with a look of, "Really?!?"...then
> proceeds - still silently - to undo doggie's straps. The tuggie and I exchange
> silent glances; I'm pretty sure we're gonna have a private "WTF were you
> allowing to happen out there?" conversation; no sense gratuitously publicly
> embarrassing someone. Dick - the tuggie - shakes his head once and returns to
> wait some more in the air-conned lounge; I remained a silent witness as ye
> mutt was banished to his string and the day's first tow was soon-enough made,
> with my hookup/wing-tip-running help. I'm still gobsmacked by the entire weird
> experience - it's almost an out-of-body, did this actually happen? fading
> memory by the time we launched JGP.
>
> I launched soon after and returned as usual around sunset; except for the few
> cheap (rhymes with 'dastard') glider pilots like myself who preferred to camp
> at the airport 7 miles outside of town, Dick had closed up shop and gone into
> town for the night. Next morning he buttonholes me. We have our "WTF was THAT
> all about?!?" conversation. I explained my perspective of events. ("Honest to
> God, Dick, no way was I going to help launch a dog...but until you 'broke the
> spell' the issue of 'does he really mean to?' was still in doubt!") We laughed
> about it for years. The JGP in question - so as I'm aware - never broached the
> situation topically with either of us, or anyone else, ever. Ye mutt was
> likely mollified with a few doggie treats. I have no idea if any other camp
> participants were even aware of that morning's curiouser-and-curioser situation.
>
> But the best part of the entire weird scenarios was that particular JGP
> subsequently grew (and continues to grow) his soaring skills to where he's one
> of Boulder's farthest-flying sailplane pilots each year, obtained his CFIG,
> and has created (and continues to support) some nationally-known and
> near-universally-used soaring software. He survived his decade of youthful
> foolishness with no life-threatening injuries.
>
> Man! Some of the really foolish things most of us have done and survived!!!
> (They're hilarious...except for those times they ain't.)
>
> Bob W.

Fantastic, just LMAO!!! Keep up the good work.

[Martin Gregorie[_6_]]

On Wed, 26 Feb 2020 13:28:05 -0700, BobW wrote:

> Man! Some of the really foolish things most of us have done and
> survived!!! (They're hilarious...except for those times they ain't.)
>
> Bob W.

Nice story!

Here's a wild one I found last night:

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/world-news/heartwarming-moment-chicken-
swaps-coop-10295846

Happened in Austria, or so it seems


--
Martin | martin at
Gregorie | gregorie dot org

[carbonprop[_2_]]

From the December 2019 issue of NASA’s Aviation Safety Reporting System Newsletter “Callback�

What’s in Your Back Seat?
This private pilot had an interesting learning experience departing an airport near the DC Flight Restricted Zone (FRZ) with a dog in the rear seat.
â–* I departed this morning on a Special Flight Rules Area (SFRA) flight plan, and my intention was to maintain 1,400 feet until [laterally] clear of [Class] B airspace, which would keep me clear of the Flight Restricted Zone and all [Class] B airspace. At approximately 1,200 feet in my climb, my dog, which had been harnessed in the back seat, leapt into the front passenger seat. In doing so, he hit the dash, somehow managing to clear my flight plan out of my Garmin 430. He pulled my GDL 39 out of the cigarette lighter (my backup navigation), he knocked my tablet (also my backup navigation) onto the passenger side floor, and he ripped the microphone port of my headset out at the connector. I didn’t initially realize that had happened, and I could still hear the radio because the listening port was still plugged in. In trying to keep my dog off of the controls, and flipping the autopilot off to hand-fly, I inadvertently made a climbing turn to 2,200 feet and may have broken into Class B airspace. Upon recognizing this, I immediately descended and made my initial radio call to Potomac. At the time, I thought they had acknowledged my call, but in retrospect, I don’t think they did. A few minutes later as I was still trying to re-trim the airplane, Potomac was trying to reach me, and it was clear to me they couldn’t hear me. It was at this point that I realized my microphone port had been unplugged, and the cord was now wrapped around my 50 pound dog, which was dead weight on top of it. I finally freed the cord and made contact with Potomac. In doing so, my concentration was broken, and when I looked at my position, I was either in or very close to violating the FRZ. I immediately turned around and again made contact with Potomac. At this point forward I stayed clear of Bravo and the FRZ.

[Jonathan St. Cloud]

On Wednesday, February 26, 2020 at 1:55:37 PM UTC-8, carbonprop wrote:
> From the December 2019 issue of NASA’s Aviation Safety Reporting System Newsletter “Callback�
>
> What’s in Your Back Seat?
> This private pilot had an interesting learning experience departing an airport near the DC Flight Restricted Zone (FRZ) with a dog in the rear seat.
> â–* I departed this morning on a Special Flight Rules Area (SFRA) flight plan, and my intention was to maintain 1,400 feet until [laterally] clear of [Class] B airspace, which would keep me clear of the Flight Restricted Zone and all [Class] B airspace. At approximately 1,200 feet in my climb, my dog, which had been harnessed in the back seat, leapt into the front passenger seat. In doing so, he hit the dash, somehow managing to clear my flight plan out of my Garmin 430. He pulled my GDL 39 out of the cigarette lighter (my backup navigation), he knocked my tablet (also my backup navigation) onto the passenger side floor, and he ripped the microphone port of my headset out at the connector. I didn’t initially realize that had happened, and I could still hear the radio because the listening port was still plugged in. In trying to keep my dog off of the controls, and flipping the autopilot off to hand-fly, I inadvertently made a climbing turn to 2,200 feet and may have broken into Class B airspace. Upon recognizing this, I immediately descended and made my initial radio call to Potomac. At the time, I thought they had acknowledged my call, but in retrospect, I don’t think they did. A few minutes later as I was still trying to re-trim the airplane, Potomac was trying to reach me, and it was clear to me they couldn’t hear me. It was at this point that I realized my microphone port had been unplugged, and the cord was now wrapped around my 50 pound dog, which was dead weight on top of it. I finally freed the cord and made contact with Potomac. In doing so, my concentration was broken, and when I looked at my position, I was either in or very close to violating the FRZ. I immediately turned around and again made contact with Potomac. At this point forward I stayed clear of Bravo and the FRZ.

I, many times, flew 205 pounds of Labrador Retriever, two separate packages, in a Cessna 340A from San Diego to Minden/Lake Tahoe. Soon as the engines started they both fell fast asleep. Only once, descending through the turbulence around Minden on Summer afternoons, did one of the labs ever come forward to offer any help. But they are trained so I just said "place" which means go lay down on your bed and he did. One other time, the other lab was awoken by turbulence and she just looked out window for a few minutes before going back to sleep. On all but two flights I did have another person on board to watch dogs. It all comes down to decision making. Do you know how your animal will behave, what is your plan if animal I snot calm...

[2G]

On Wednesday, February 26, 2020 at 9:54:24 AM UTC-8, danlj wrote:
> On Tuesday, February 25, 2020 at 1:11:06 PM UTC-6, John Cochrane wrote:
> > Soaring magazine had an article a while ago summarizing a crash involving a dog in flight. Basically the dog was such a distraction that the pilot didn't notice spoilers open on tow, or off tow, or at all until impacting the ground. It was 1 pilot 1 dog in a 2 place glider. Maybe dog on lap of passenger might work.
> >
> > John Cochrane BB
>
> It took about 45 seconds to bring up the NTSB aircraft-accident database and search for all reports containing " dog " -- 203 items in 21 pages. No, I've not read them all.
>
> Basically, even a normally well-behaved dog may panic in the strange environment of an aircraft, so dogs, cattle, mice, snakes, spiders, etc. need to be secured in a way that prevents interference with any control or operation of the canopy release or BRS...
>
> Dan Johnson

Imagine transporting an entire sled-dog team in a bush plane! They know how to do it.

Tom

[AS]

On Thursday, February 27, 2020 at 12:16:38 AM UTC-5, 2G wrote:
> On Wednesday, February 26, 2020 at 9:54:24 AM UTC-8, danlj wrote:
> > On Tuesday, February 25, 2020 at 1:11:06 PM UTC-6, John Cochrane wrote:
> > > Soaring magazine had an article a while ago summarizing a crash involving a dog in flight. Basically the dog was such a distraction that the pilot didn't notice spoilers open on tow, or off tow, or at all until impacting the ground. It was 1 pilot 1 dog in a 2 place glider. Maybe dog on lap of passenger might work.
> > >
> > > John Cochrane BB
> >
> > It took about 45 seconds to bring up the NTSB aircraft-accident database and search for all reports containing " dog " -- 203 items in 21 pages. No, I've not read them all.
> >
> > Basically, even a normally well-behaved dog may panic in the strange environment of an aircraft, so dogs, cattle, mice, snakes, spiders, etc. need to be secured in a way that prevents interference with any control or operation of the canopy release or BRS...
> >
> > Dan Johnson
>
> Imagine transporting an entire sled-dog team in a bush plane! They know how to do it.
>
> Tom

Many moons ago, I was lucky to hitch a right-seat flight in an Antonov AN2. I asked the pilot how many people this thing can haul. He said 'officially, 12 - but in Russia, 19 plus all their goats!'

Uli
'AS'

[BobW]

On 2/26/2020 2:38 PM, Martin Gregorie wrote:
> On Wed, 26 Feb 2020 13:28:05 -0700, BobW wrote:
>
>> Man! Some of the really foolish things most of us have done and
>> survived!!! (They're hilarious...except for those times they ain't.)
>>
>> Bob W.
>
> Nice story!
>
> Here's a wild one I found last night:
>
> https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/world-news/heartwarming-moment-chicken-
> swaps-coop-10295846
>
> Happened in Austria, or so it seems

Har! That's *one* way for chickens to get more throost! W&B? Depleted uranium
in their feed pellets? Hey - it's all good!

Bob W.

[John DeRosa OHM Ω http://aviation.derosaweb.net]

Putting dogs in the cockpit is no sillier than on your lap driving a car. At least there are no airbags in a glider (yet) which have the unfortunate habit of catapulting a pet projectile into your chest killing both of you in the bargain.