Night flying in the mountians in a cessna 150,

Trent Moorehead wrote:
"Dude" wrote in message
...

That being said, putting a plane like a 150 into the trees isn't
impossible
at all. Simply mushing it into the foliage as slow as possible has
been
accomplished many times, even if it is a crap shoot. Given the
hieght of
some of those trees would make it interesting to get down
afterwards
though.

I've been doing some reading lately that advises pilots to aim for
the base
of the trees, not the foliage. Mushing it into the tops of the trees
ensures
that you will stall as soon as the plane touches the first treetop.
The nose
will drop and you will be going straight down from there. Unless the
tree
branches break the fall on the way down, there is a good chance you
will not
survive. The taller the trees, the farther you fall, the harder the
impact.

If you aim for the base of the trees, you'll be under control as
close to
the ground as possible when the stall occurs. You do have to be
careful not
to hit a tree trunk head-on, but if you aim right, the wings can be
used to
absorb energy, making the deceleration as gradual as possible. It's
the
quick deceleration that kills you or renders you unconscious and if
there is
a fire you are not getting out.

I also used to think that mushing the plane into the treetops was the
way to
go, but obviously I've been rethinking that. And just reading the
title of
this thread gives me willies. To be honest, I thought it was a joke
or a
hypothetical question, not a recounting of an actual experience.
Speaking
for myself only, outright emergencies notwithstanding, you won't find
me
"Night flying in the mountains in a cessna 150".

-Trent
PP-ASEL

It also matters what type of trees you try that mushing in. In the
East, limbs tend to point up. But in the West, they tend to point down
(Fir). If you expect those tree limbs to break your fall you can forget
it (those limbs are designed to shed snowfall). They will only spring
back up after you have crumpled yourself into the ground, hiding your
wreckage for (sometimes) years before a hapless hiker stumbles into it.

Tom