WHEN PIGS FLY
THE IRREVERENT TALES OF A BEAR IN THE AIR
by
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After holding for about 20 minutes, I saw the Bonanza pilot take off again and initially head southbound towards Grandview. I prayed this was just another diversionary tactic and stayed northeast. I was able to keep him in sight and he soon turned towards me and proceeded back towards Spokane. I now had a lot of altitude on him again and while keeping a shallow dive going I didn't lose him until we were in the Moses Lake area. His heading looked good for direct Spokane so I proceeded to the Felts Field airport hoping that was his destination. I was quite surprised that he wasn't down in the weeds flying the canyons, as he did on his trip down, and assumed he might be getting low on gas by now. In the meantime, the confidential informant involved in the drop at the Sunnyside airport advised the DEA agent that he thought the pilot was going to Mead, a small airport North of Spokane. When the agent gave me the news, I made a slight heading adjustment to the left, quickly determined the distance and radial from the GEG VOR to Mead off my enroute low IFR map, input the data into the KNS80, and proceeded there wide open. I hoped my direct flight would get me there first and offset his speed advantage since he would probably get involved with his low level zigzagging routine as he got closer.... However, drug traffickers aren't exactly the most reliable types even if some of them are pilots. I arrived over the Mead airport and entered the pattern pretending to practice touch and go landings. The Bonanza was nowhere in sight and none of the ground units had seen it yet.... After twenty minutes or so I thought he must have gone to Felts Field and started to head that way but I was barely out of the pattern when the DEA agent said he thought he saw a V-tail Bonanza overfly the airport behind me. I cranked it around hard and finally spotted it circling Mead at about 1000 ft AGL.... I was at 2500 ft by then and when he turned away from me I dove on him and got to within 100 yds of his tail. He got down to around 500 AGL over the airport, slowed to about 100 knots, started circling and appeared to be looking for his contact or any sign of trouble on the ground. There were no radio calls to Mead Unicom from him and I wasn't talking either. He increased his bank to about 45 degrees in a left turn and I eventually ended up just aft of his right wing at full power to stay with him. He went wings level and I was sure he must have spotted me. I was now within 100 ft of him when I saw him making furtive movements in the cockpit.... I wasn't sure if he was getting ready to make a drop but in my excitement it sure as hell looked like he was hauling out a Mini Mac 10 or something with which to do me harm!! Although our WSP planes are unmarked I was in full trooper uniform in those years and thought he must have seen my big yellow WSP shoulder patches. The wide windows on our Skylanes had the retaining arms removed so they could be opened 90 degrees to the fuselage in flight, mainly for taking photos over fatal accident scenes. I flipped open the window, horsed out my S&W 357 magnum, and prepared myself for any eventuality. While I was fiddling around getting my hogleg out he banked hard into me and I had to dive under him.... It sure seemed to me that this was turning into a dog-fight of sorts.... I was flying with my right hand and was trying to hold the window open with my hogleg stuck out about a foot with my left.... (Please remember, I was an Aviation Section FNG and have never purported to be very smart or quick on the uptake).... Anyway, I knew he couldn't out-turn me since maintaining 70 to 80 degree bank angles was what I did all day long working traffic.... I could see his tail pretty well but couldn't quite see what he had in his hands. I was convinced he was trying to ID me and after doing so would probably attempt some nut-job suicide by cop stunt and take me out with him. Just after I glanced away from him for a split second to check my manifold pressure, there was a huge "Whuumpp" and all hell broke loose! I suddenly found myself inverted, nose low, and a bunch of God damn trees quickly filling my windscreen!! Son of a bi......
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This book chronicles the various methods the author inadvertently employed trying to kill himself during his life. On the farm, evil machinery attempted to have their way with him on several occasions. Later, while recklessly operating old Triumph and Ducati motorcycles, he nearly did the deed to the consternation of the folks. As a state patrolman he almost allowed several insane motorists to complete the job left unfinished by the tractors and bikes. He was forced to chase armed psychopaths the wrong way on the freeway and jerked other motorists out their side window after they tried to run him down. Thirteen years of investigating fatal accidents convinced the author to seek a less gruesome line of work so he took up flying police aircraft instead. As a novice flight instructor the author was attacked in the cockpit by a crazed student pilot who put the plane into a spin. While flying state patrol planes he survived engine failures, dead stick landings, air-borne dog fights with drug runners, and icing encounters so severe he still has nightmares. Flying state personnel and governors in the state's turbo-prop and turbo-jet aircraft had some crazy moments too. Hauling prisoners and serial killers around the country forced the author to always keep his sidearm close by. A narrow escape from an inverted flat spin in an AT6 Texan was the scariest of all. He flew corporate jets after retirement and describes some hairy moments locating radio-collared elk while flying over the Olympic Mountains. Releasing sterile insects over Jamaica was exciting especially after several million of them escaped into the cockpit and tried to gag him one morning. He feels quite fortunate to have survived all the close calls.