He landed on a road! - night formation flight

One late afternoon on October 14, 1991, after completing the conversion of a Seagraves, Texas bank from one computer system to another, the president of the bank took Robert, Jerry, Mark and me to the local airport. Preparing for our one hour nighttime flight to Dimmitt, Texas, Robert performed the preflight check on his borrowed Cherokee 180 and I completed the preflight check on my employer's excellent Cherokee 180, registration number N8311W. Robert's plane would not start so he got a boost from a nice fellow from the airport's FBO.

Minutes later, just before dark, Mark and I took off for Dimmitt agreeing that we would climb to 7500 feet and fly a few hundred feet off of Robert and Jerry's right wing. We communicated on 122.8 because we heard nobody else on that frequency. Level at 7500 feet, Mark and I could see the nav lights of Robert and Jerry's Cherokee off to our left as the very last of the sun rays disappeared and we were flying in a beautiful pitch black sky.

Suddenly Mark asked, "Where'd they go?" I looked left, front, back, down--everywhere that I could see, but, I could see no plane. They had disappeared. I told Mark to keep an eagle out in every direction--I did not want to experience one of those mid air collisions that can ruin your whole day! Or, night. I tried to contact Robert on the radio but no joy.

I flew straight and level, confirmed that all of our nav lights were on so that Robert could see us from wherever he was, and continued on to Dimmitt. It was one of the prettiest, blackest, starlit skies I had ever seen.

We landed in Dimmitt, put the plane in the hanger, stood out by the taxiway looking at the stars and whispered comments to each other as if we thought loud voices might destroy the beauty of the night. Or, maybe we whispered because we were listening for Robert's plane to arrive somewhere over Dimmitt.

A black Suburban came around the corner of a hanger and pulled up to where we were standing. Robert's wife rolled the window down and said that Robert and Jerry had landed on a road near Earth, Texas and they wanted us to come pick them up. So, we got into Mark's car, drove to Earth, from the Earth police dispatcher got directions regarding where the plane was, and, a few minutes later, found a crowd of people standing around a Cherokee 180 parked beside the highway in someone's driveway. Shee!

Robert said the airplane's panel lights went out, the radio quit working and he and Jerry began wondering if the next thing to quit would be the engine! Jerry (not a pilot) wondered out loud, "If the engine quits, don't you want to be pretty close to the ground so that you don't fall so far?" At this point, with Robert's very limited flying experience, Robert decided that Jerry's concerns made sense, so, they promptly headed down, positioned themselves over a line of car headlights and taillights, touched down on a highway leading north out of Dimmitt and got some surprised people to help them push the plane into somebody's driveway.

Note.

Robert made some mistakes here. A more experienced pilot probably would have first checked the circuit breakers, noticed that the generator switch had popped out--maybe during the boost start--pressed the popped circuit breaker switch back in, said, "Stupid me! I should've completed the checklist before I took off," watched the lights and radio come back and, then, continued merrily on to Dimmit.

 Also, a more experienced pilot would have known that, when the battery goes down, the engine does not quit. The engine needs a battery to start but does not need a battery to continue running.

And, a more experienced pilot would probably have climbed to a higher altitude, not descended to a lower altitude; if the engine does quit, the higher you are, the further you can glide--maybe to a nice, safe airport! (Ask Google to tell you all it can about the "Gimli glider.") As the pilot climbed to higher altitude, while using a flashlight to see the control panel, the right seat passenger would be using another flashlight to check the charts and find the closest airport. Then, and only then, would the more experienced pilot begin his or her descent.

The next morning, Mark and I took Robert and the Cherokee 180 owner (an ag--crop duster--pilot ) back to the town of Earth. They pressed the popped generator circuit breaker back in, boost started the airplane, and, while a highway patrolman blocked the south part of the highway, Mark and I blocked the north part. The ag pilot and Robert started their takeoff roll, took off, flew under three power lines, pulled up before the fourth power line and headed back to Dimmitt. Mark and I drove back to Dimmitt. Wow! A story for my grandkids.

Sidenote

Oh, yeah, a few months later, Robert borrowed the same Cherokee 180 from the same crop duster, and, while buzzing a cattle feedyard near Friona, Texas one bright sunny day, caught a power line and ripped a piece of the vertical stabilizer off the airplane. Upon landing back in Dimmitt, he closed the hanger door hoping that no one would  see the damaged plane and inform the owner before Robert did. If Robert wishes to continue flying, he should probably repeat ground school and spend some quality time with a certified flight instructor.