"Gene Seibel" wrote in message
oups.com...
Oh, I've got plenty of those stories. I have one about running out of
fuel. http://pad39a.com/gene/breathe.html

Funny how those assumptions (fuel quantity) can be SOOO mistaken, huh?

Compared to this one it was
a non-event because it was daylight, good weather, and over flat land.
An event many years before taught me to be very leery about combining
weather, night, and hostile terrain. Seperately they can be managable,
even if you do something stupid. Combined they can be deadly, even if
you do everything right.
Not sure how luck works in aviation. I hear that the next ball on a
roulette wheel is just as likely to be black, even if the last 50 have
been red. I am doing my best to keep the necessity for luck out of my
flying equation as much as possible. I have done foolish things that I
will never do again. Nevertheless, those things have contributed to my
education in a poignant way that all my instructors' warnings could not
have done. Fortunately, I have survived the first 28 years of my
education. Some aren't so "lucky".
--

I've never had an engine failure, never came close to running out of gas.

OTOH, when I "tempted fate" it could only have been luck that kept me from
digging a big crater.

About a year ago (May 7th) I was late getting out of a closing in Lawton,
OK. We should have been done by 2:00 PM but didn't get done until nearly
4:30. It was the Friday before Mother's Day, and I damn sure had to be home
or I'd face some dire consequences.

Well, I smiled nicely and departed the closing with documents in hand and
raced to the Lawton Municipal Airport. By arrangement, my plane was fueled
and ready after a proper pre-flight. I was wheels up by 5:00 and I figured
I'd be home in slightly less than three hours since there was not a headwind
this time, even a slight tail wind from the south. I would even beat the
sunset, thought I know
that area and those mountains intimately.

I climbed out, did a small diversion around the west end of Ft. Sill, then
headed direct VFR to my home in Montrose, CO, flying at 10,500 feet. I
figured to climb to 16,500 just before crossing the front range of the
Rockies. Now, I get up every morning by 5:00AM, so I was hanging on the end
of a twelve hour day. I was heading directly into the setting sun, so I
pulled the Rosen sun visor down as far as it would go. It was rather cold at
that altitude, so I turned up the cabin heat a bit. Maybe I turned it up a
bit too much, because
I'm not sure where it was, but somewhere out over the boring, flatlands of
the Texas Panhandle, I fell asleep.

I was jolted awake some time later (7:06PM by the clock -- maybe 50-60
minutes later) due to some light turbulence. I must have slept well, because
I remember being instantly awake and pretty alert -- naturally, my first
thought was "Where the hell am I?".

The GPS said I was about 170nm from Montrose. I hit the "NRST" button and it
said I was like 15 nm west of KTAD, Perry Stokes Airport near Trinidad, CO.
I took stock of the situation, said "Holy, ****", and set up a climb to the
16,500 foot altitude I had originally planned and popped on the oxygen
system.

If you plot on a map the course I was flying, I was about 40nm from, and on
a direct course for Blanca Peak, a lovely attraction with it's 14, 350 top.
With my adrenaline now racing, I fortunately had about 70 minutes of
daylight left due to my westbound route. I got everything back on course and
to the proper altitude, continued on and landed about 20 minutes before
sunset. I was current for night flying, but that night the coming darkness
just seemed more ominous once I got on the ground andthought about it.

If that turbulence had not awakened my, I would have hit somewhere around
Blanca Peak at the 10,500 foot mark. Later, I plotted my poistion and route
on the sections to set exactly what my situation had been. If not quite
there, Blanca Peak is surrounded by three other peaks that soar above the
14,000 foot mark. If had been more extreme, it might have caused and upset
that I could not have recoverd from coming out of a state of sleep.
Passibly, the sun in my eyes also kicked me a bit.

I was lucky that time. I figure that at the least I made about a few
boneheaded moves/decisions/judgements that evening, not the least of which
as "gethomeitis":
1) Late day, long week, completely pooped.
2) Departing on a three hour flight just about 3 1/2 hours from sunset.
3) Not checking my route more carefully (though in this case it wouldn't
have helped). Those peaks are the tallest terrain in
the area and only a ten mile diversion to the north would have put my on a
much better route as pertains to terrain. I now use this general route and
come over much lower terrain. In daylight, a forced landing would have
numerous options that I wouldn't just a few miles further south.
4) Thinking this was a routine flight (not when mountains and descending
darkness come into play).
5) I should have gotten some coffee to bring along. Coffee does work for me
and doesn't make me jumpy or excitable. Well, not usually!! 6) Thinking a
good pre-flight, weather check and full fuel tanks was adequate. I never
even stopped to think of my physiological condition. 7) I felt "rested"
after my "nap", but I wonder now if I should have landed at Trinidad and
stayed the night. I could have been
home by 7:00AM the next morning. Was I re-tempting "fate"?

I didn't tell my wife what happened until some weeks later, but I came damn
close to having some much more fatal consequences, infinitely worse that
what I would have encountered from my wife if I got home Saturday morning.


Matt
---------------------
Matthew W. Barrow
Site-Fill Homes, LLC.
Montrose, CO