4/19/2008
"Day 3"
Morning 2 in Coeur d'Alene. Weather looks bad everywhere around me! I forgot to mention that late last night - in a moment of desperation, I went online and ordered an oxygen system to the hotel to be over night-ed in case I see an opportunity in the future to climb above the clouds to avoid the nastiness below. Even though it showed up as promised this morning, it doesn't come full, and I was 5 minutes late hustling to a welding supply company exactly 5 minutes away to get it filled. 
Ce la Vie!!! After studying the weather and reviewing my southern route again, I figured it was worth a look to at least fly south a bit and see what was really going on while keeping a wide margin to turn around if I need to. The beauty of my southern route is that I'd avoid low the low-ceiling canyon passes that make me nervous – or so I thought. This is what I had to look forward to had I decided to stick with the route east through Missoula pass. That's what we call a NOGO. 
So I called Liz to let her know that I'd be dropping off the rental car at the hanger and to thank her for the recommendations in town, threw my trash-bag of clothes into the back of the Goose and fired her up. I fully expected to turn around and come back so I left the car keys under the mat just in case, and headed skyward. It was a slow climb to about 4,000 feet as I checked every direction for snow, clouds, and hopefully, an opening. According to the weather channel, I was looking at a remote possibility of skirting the Missoula Pass if I did so in the next 2 hours. I half-heartedly made my way down I-90 (the route I'd follow through the pass) and at the first high elevation decided it was not for me so I turned around. It felt good to be back in the Goose though, so I figured I'd head back over the airport and practice a few tight turns to get a handle on how much room I'd have in order to make an emergency 180 turn at gross weight. While working my 3rd turn, I noticed that my southern route seemed pretty clear. The other benefit I liked about my southern route was that it was peppered with small airports along the way that could act as a solid "bail-out" if ever I needed one. The Missoula Pass has about a 100-mile leap of faith before good alternatives come back into play. I decided to check it out and dialed in the I-95 south coordinates I had planned the night before to the GPS. The further I went, more comfortable I felt with the decision as the terrain was relatively flat and, in the worst case scenario, I could have put the Goose down anywhere along the highway - after all this is a very capable bush-plane (plus I had a fresh pair of newly cleaned undies and socks on.) It was game on. 
It didn't take long for my throat to tighten again as I began seeing flurries tap my windshield. I had a small airport in my sight and headed straight for it only to find it clearing up ahead a bit. I looked down on my GPS and saw that there was another airport just 15 miles up that appeared to carry fuel - always a bonus. It looked reasonable so I pressed on taking a shortcut by leaving the highway - my safety blanket. The shortcut also helped me avoid the snow altogether as well. I must have been about 2 miles from the airport at Cottonwood, Idaho, when I had a near heart attack. Just past the airport runway was a total white out snow squall. I had a tailwind so I was fairly sure it wasn't moving toward me, but this area is full of ravines and I was not about to trust that my tailwind wasn't “area specific” so I cranked the throttle up and dove at the same time directly to the snow side of the runway. I figured by going across the runway toward the snow and turning back, I'd have a better gage of what kind of room and time I had. On downwind, I could see the flakes tapping my right wing. As I turned to final approach I was all set up for a nice cross-wind landing (the wind was blowing sideways - not directly towards the nose of the plane which is what you really want) and as I was concentrating on keeping the plane straight under the conditions, I saw what must have been a 6 foot fence appear out of no-where right at the very end of the runway. I don't know what genius came up with that idea but I literally missed it by a foot by adding power in the last second and forcing my landing long. As it happens, the Cottonwood Municipal Airport is neither fancy, nor flat. The runway is shaped like Marilyn Monroe's hips. It was not my finest landing or moment, and I just about guaranteed another night of washing my shorts. If only that's where the story ended.... It turns out that there was a gas pump, but it was not self-serve and this place was deserted. I mean a couple of hanger sheds, and nothing for miles. 
Not the worst thing in the world. I brought a sleeping bag, some blankets, and enough food to camp a week, so I figured I'd start the Goose up, taxi to a nice tie-down spot and set up for the night. Only the Goose wouldn't fire. The starter wouldn't even turn over. I immediately popped the cowling off and started poking around but nothing looked out of place so I figured it's got to be electrical. I called my good friend Mikael (President of Glasair) for some technical help and he in turn had the Legendary Ted give me a call. After running some basic troubleshooting and after losing feeling in my fingers due to the cold, we both agreed that the man to talk to about this is Jim (the Guy who Knows everything about planes). After leaving Jim a voice message as to my plight, I did what any grown man in this situation would do and called my Dad, who then Googled my position and found out that there was exactly one hotel about 2 miles away which happens to be attached to one of the only restaurants in town. I figured I'd better leave the goose for tonight and hitchhike into town for some warmth. Down a dirt raod, about a mile north, I thumbed a ride from a nice pimply-faced kid in a truck that rivals Larry's Spud-Truck Loner. He seemed a little dubious about me and my story of making an emergency snow-squall-avoidance landing in a plane I just built. The fact that I was headed to New York City in a tiny plane that was currently sitting in Idaho might have thrown him too. I asked him what the town was like, and he said it's not bad if you like Drunks and Crazy People. I think he may have been kidding, at least I hope so. The young woman who was working the restaurant/hotel/souvenir desk seemed nice enough and handed me the key to room #1. 
It became instantly clear that this portion of Cottonwood did not have Cell-Phone (at least not AT&T) service so I ambled on over to the gas station (the other place to get food I think) and bought a phone card, some almond M&M's, Water, and a travel pack of Tylenol PM (something I was quite sure I would be needing tonight). I made my round of calls declaring my safety, and headed over to the restaurant for some food. The chicken fried steak was just about the best I have ever had. Now I know I said this before, and am fully aware that I was in somewhat dire straits and might think cat food would be edible, but this was the real deal good! The big decision was weather or not to watch the weather channel tonight. There was no internet here to do weather research, but I felt like the less I knew the better I'd sleep anyway, so I threw on the comforting sounds of CSI Miami instead. Nothing like an audible autopsy to send you into a comforting slumber. Maybe tomorrow it will look up?!
