My Scary Event in Cow Country
By Charlie Briggs
It all started out very routine. The plane was a new model 150 hp, Mooney Mark 20 with less than 100 hours TT. The trip was for buying cattle. The weather was clear and calm. The route was direct from Amarillo, Texas’ Tradewind Airport to a ranch just south of Springer, N.M. on the east slope of the Rockies. Springer is on Highway 56 and approximately 90 miles west of Clayton, N.M. This route was to play a role in this event.
Landing on a smooth, grassy pasture near the ranch headquarters, I was met by the rancher. We spent the day looking at various sets of cattle. As evening drew near, nothing would do but “stay for a steak.” After an evening of exchanging “cow country tales” it was time to get home.
The weather was calm and clear except for some middle level thin cirrus clouds, and no moon. I had hundreds of hours of night flying time under my belt – this was going to be a treat, I thought. Was I ever wrong!
I had the rancher position his pick-up right behind the plane. Preflight was fast as I had only flown just over one hour since my full flight check. Still, due to a lifetime routine, I checked the oil! Everything being okay, I was ready for take off. And what a take off it was! Landing and navigation lights full on, and after a customary “run up” it was time for “lift off.”
The sturdy 150 Continental came to life and our trajectory was set in motion, up a slight slope in the pasture and aimed into the night. Then it happened. With one-quarter flaps in position, I had lift for takeoff very quickly. Then, hidden in the grass was the trap – a shallow but distinct old buffalo wallow!
There was an instant “kawoop” and I was airborne with an immediate and total loss of all electrical systems. I was in total darkness – no instrument lights, landing lights or navigation lights – a life-threatening dilemma for sure. The “how to fly” manuals do not cover this. However, through the years of acquaintances with other pilots, including many veteran fighter pilots, I gained one piece of knowledge that, along with God and my guardian angel, saved my life.
Here is how it happened.
My thoughts racing, and with the town of Springer, N.M. off to my left, I remembered the advice of an old fighter pilot friend. As I was into the climb, I gently turned my head to the left, slowly. I have close to peripheral vision so had a good conscious view of the relationship of the lights of the city to my inclining position. Within seconds I instinctively had a plan. I would circle Springer in a shallow circling climb until the plane told me it was at its operative max altitude. From the westside of the circle I would use the lights of the city to align my tract as east as possible. There is a highway leading from Springer directly east to Clayton, N.M., about 90 miles away.
Thru the midlevel scattered stratus clouds I could clearly see “guiding stars” which were some help, before they disappeared. From that altitude, flying at 140-plus miles per hour, within 10 minutes or so I figured I would be in visual contact with the lights of Clayton and along with lights of the cars on the highway and all kinds of luck, I might be able to hold steady enough to get through.
After few short minutes the almost impossible situation quickly emerged. The stars disappeared behind the clouds! I had set the stabilizers as I crossed over Springer, but having no autopilot, the plane soon started to balloon in a roller coaster manner. It was a terrifying moment. Then, some force touched me. As in later life, under less terse conditions, it was there again, saying, “don’t give up, keep trying.” I did. I took hold of the controls and began to hold a course listening only to the motor. I was going to try to climb, or to see stars above and cars or ranch house lights below in the dark and potentially fatal night.
The plane responded and stopped the rollercoaster. I thought for an instant I had control. I did not but, as I was within one minute of a potentially fatal outcome, I was to find that God did. I looked out and saw what I thought were stars. Then, in an instant, I realized I was partially inverted and coming in headed at a car behind a pick-up at an elevated rate of speed. (I had thought they were stars and I was climbing.)
Within one second I turned the wheel one-quarter turn to the right and pulled back, all in one move, along with a STRONG right rudder. The result was my life! Now I was in visual contact with cars on the road and could see ahead to Clayton and the stars above. (If I had been flying in virtually any other light aircraft of the time I would not be writing this some 50 years later.)
Within minutes I was over Clayton, N.M. and headed southeast toward Amarillo.
I had one more challenge. Arriving from the north I used the lights of Amarillo to line up with the north-south runway at Tradewind Airport. Both sides of the runway were well lighted, but the middle was dark. But again, with luck and providence, I made a less than classic landing and was home – SAFE, and grateful to a force not of this earth. Amen.
