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I am going to let you in on a story I have only recently decided it was okay to tell. It happened a long time ago at Colt’s Neck Airport in New Jersey on April 3, 1971. That was the year I graduated high school and I believe all of the statutes of limitations have expired by now. I was in heaven when I was lucky enough to get to work there as a line boy. It was the very first job I landed in aviation (no pun intended).
Colt’s Neck Airport in New Jersey.
I knew I wanted to fly when I was about four years old. I had spent my whole life preparing for the day I soloed. My dad taught me how to build and fly all kinds of model airplanes. In grade school, I checked out books like, “ Eight Hours to Solo,” and “Straight Up” by Henry B. Lent. I read them many times. In high school I read a book by Jules Bergman, “Anyone Can Fly.” The only thing stopping me was my age. As soon as I was close enough to 16, I got a job at Friendly’s Ice Cream in Matawan to pay for my flying lessons.
Shortly after I started lessons, I was working at Colts Neck and got a discount on flying and, more importantly, got to hang around with pilots and flight instructors. I soled on my eighth lesson and just a few hours later, I got checked out in the Piper Cub. Looking at my logbook, the first thing that pops into my head is what a lousy record keeper I was and still am, not to mention my crummy hand writing. Thank goodness for word processors but, if you look closely at it, you can see that I soled the Cub on my first flight. Two weeks later I had another lesson and was officially signed off. There were no endorsements for tail draggers back then so with a grand total of two hours in the Cub, I was ready to rock and roll!
I soled the Cub on my first flight.
The “forced landing” entry in my logbook.
Now look at the next entry and it says, “forced landing.” That was my secret. It really wasn’t a forced landing because I shut the engine off on purpose. Why would I want to do such a dumb thing? I was 17 years old that’s why. I was a lot smarter then than I am now. Hanging around the airport and talking to guys that were there, I would hear talk about shutting the engine off in a Cub which turned it into a “glider.” One could soar like an eagle I was told. There was nothing to it! All you had to do was slow it down enough to stop the prop from wind milling. This way, the drag from the wind milling propeller would be reduced substantially and a fellow could glide just like a sailplane and ride the thermals to his heart’s content.
There was one minor problem though – the Cub had no electrical system which meant no starter. To get the motor running after it was stopped was a simple matter of diving to get enough speed to make the engine turn over and it would spring right back to life. That was all there was to it so my mind was made up, I was going to fly like an eagle and drift along in the atmosphere that was rich with rising columns of air that would fill my wings with lift and off I would go where only the Gods dared to travel.
So the very next day I completed the preflight and untied the Cub, lifted the tail to spin it around, singlehandedly propped it like I was taught, hopped in it and took off for the thermals. I figured 3,000 feet would be high enough. Of course the fact that there was no sunshine at all that day and there was a stratus cloud deck above, rendering no chance for finding any lift at all, didn’t bother me. Ignorance is bliss as they say.
There was no sunshine at all that day and there was a stratus cloud deck above, rendering no chance for finding any lift.
The fact is I was clueless. I didn’t know anything about thermals. This day would produce what is known as a “sled ride,” because you end up at the bottom of the flight with no lift at all to keep you aloft. And even if the conditions were right for thermals, I didn’t have the understanding or skill to stay in one. On top of it all, the Cub was no glider. It just came down slower than a Cessna 150 or Cherokee. I was not even slightly aware I setting myself up for failure. Oh to be 16 again. I reached up and shut off the mags. Then I slowed until I stalled and the prop stopped windmilling. I had no idea what I was in for.
Gliders sound very quiet from the ground but that is deceiving. The first thing I noticed was that there was quite a bit of wind noise and vibration coming from various parts of the airplane. Shutting off the engine did not stop the wind from swirling around the cockpit either. Odd, but somehow this made it seem colder. I guess the noise from the prop and the engines seemed to mask the effect once they were no longer to be heard or felt.
This is when I started to think that this might not have been such a bright idea.
Undaunted, I started to circle looking for lift. This is when it struck me that I had no idea how to find lift. I started to make a few circles to convince myself I could still do this thing, but I had a sinking sensation (pun) and I was starting to regret I had put myself in this position. “Better start the engine now,” I thought. But I was about to find out things were ready to fall apart on me real quick.
I was still close to the airport when I decided to start the dive to get the prop spinning. Again, I was clueless. I had no idea of what kind of dive it would take. I must have been around 2,000 feet above the ground (maybe less) when I pushed the nose over and started to gain speed. I was really going fast I thought which was probably about 60 mph and nothing happened. Then I made another mistake. I leveled off to think this thing over. That was a mistake.
There is nothing more dangerous than a pilot thinking and while I was, the sinking continued.
I wasn’t quite panicking when I decided what was needed was a really steep dive so this time I pointed the nose straight down. I remember seeing my feet on the rudder pedals and the ground filling the windshield as it rushed up toward me, “damn,” I was low! My heart was in my throat as the Cub moaned loudly in protest over the way I was treating it. If it was a horse it would have thrown me to the ground and glided off to safer pastures once rid of me. I finally chickened out and leveled off again. Now what was I going to do?
My mind was spinning. I was in too deep to get out now and I was starting to panic! It was no use, I was not going to get the engine running as planned and my mind was racing. I needed a plan B. I came up with another dumb idea – I would try to make it back to the airport.
I thought that if I could only stretch my glide just a little bit, I would clear the fence at the end of the runway. I was up to my neck in denial. I was too green to know that I didn’t have enough energy. Heck, I didn’t even know what energy was let alone energy management. I was in a dream world that shielded me from reality. Right now I was just along for the ride.
I was stretching my glide all right, but all the while, I was losing altitude and airspeed while I subconsciously kept pulling back on the stick – a classic pilot error. It was getting very quiet now. The wind was no longer whipping and the wires were no longer humming as I concentrated on my glide oblivious to what was about to happen.
The fence at the end of the runway was becoming quite clear in my tunnel vision. The detail revealed old wooden rails and some wire stretched along the top with tall untrimmed grass growing up through the structure. I could see all of this rising up in my field of view. I thought in and instant that I was not going to make the runway, but instead I was going to hit the fence. I pushed hard on both of the heel brakes not to stop the airplane but to brace for impact with the fence, all the while continuing to pull on the stick. I wondered if it was going to hurt.
Then the Cub quit flying. It just fell out of the sky and plopped into a farmer’s field. The soft soil not only absorbed my abrupt landing, but also stopped the airplane in just a matter of feet. The tail plopped down. It was over. I was in one piece. I didn’t hit the fence and the Cub was unscratched. It was quiet, very quiet. This is the first time I experienced that sweet silence after a harrowing brush with danger in an airplane. I have been blessed with it a few times in the past, a silent reward for being lucky this time for sure.
I sat there in the cockpit for a spell as I watched a group of pilots a few yards away enjoying each other’s company as they were disassembling a glider. They were talking and laughing as they did this and they didn’t even see (or hear) me land there. I had to peel myself out of the Cub, hop the fence, and walk past the guys at the glider to get to the office where my boss would be. It was a walk of shame.This is the part of the story that I am really not proud of. Not that I am proud of any of it because I am not, but it happened. As I walked toward the office, I concocted a story as to what just happened. I knew all about carburetor ice and how Cubs and Champs were very prone to it. So before I left the airplane, I made sure the mags were on and the carb heat was on, then I jumped the fence and walked back to the airport.
As I walked toward the office, I concocted a story as to what just happened.
I arrived in the small office and my boss was standing behind the counter. He knew I was out in the Cub and it was always tied down in front of the office. He was surprised to see me walk in and said something like, “what happened!” I put on my best shook up student demeanor and with a shaky voice, said that for some reason the motor, “just quit.” As I recall the first thing out of his mouth was, “did you turn on the carb heat”? “I can’t remember, things happened so fast.” That was the stage I was setting.
My boss and one of the flight instructors, Dirk, set out on foot to secure the airplane. I told them it was a good landing and the airplane was not damaged. We hopped the fence, shooed the cows away, and my boss stuck his head in the cockpit to check the carb heat position. I remember him saying the fuel and mags were on, there was gas in the tank, and the carburetor heat was still in the ON position. My little trick worked.
After they talked about it, they figured it must have been some dirt or something in the fuel that caused a temporary blockage to the engine. They decided it would be alright if it ran alright and that it would be okay to fly the airplane out over the fence and onto the runway. And that is exactly what we did. It took full power and one guy on each wing strut to push it though the soft wet soil to get the thing rolling, but it did get out of the field and over the fence.
So that was the end of the story on that day, until now. As of this writing, the cat is out of the bag. It was stupid and I certainly do not advocate for anybody to go out and try this at home. It was a stupid thing to do. But because of that experience, I have survived a number of engine failures and so far not a scratch on me or the airplane.
The bottom line is this: I share this cautionary tale with my students, reminding them that stalling an airplane during an engine failure can be a stark wake-up call. Having witnessed and read about such incidents repeatedly over my half-century of flying, I know that human factors can heavily influence our decision-making process. If faced with a similar situation, denial may cloud your judgment causing you to stretch your glide and ultimately stall the airplane. Unfortunately, practicing engine failures to a full stop landing in a field is rarely done, leaving pilots ill-prepared for such emergencies. Remember that trying to reach a runway can be much more hazardous than simply landing in a field.
- My secret forced landing - July 3, 2023
- The teacher becomes the student - February 21, 2019
- Compound emergency – a line boy learns a lesson - September 13, 2018
I was a senior in high school and 18 years old when I got my PPL. I am grateful to be alive. I know that there are lots of high school kids who get the pilots license and are very responsible. I got my license, but I was not responsible.
I vividly remember taking the rental 150 up to altitude and turning the engine off on purpose for some quiet time gliding. I did this with the approval of my 19 year old CFI – he said that pilots did it all the time and I was welcome to do it with the rental planes since he checked me out and I knew what to do to get the engine started again (of course it had a starter!).
It was a few years before I figured out that this was not “normal” and was not an approved activity by the rental company.
I must say that a Cessna 150 from 8,000 feet will actually give quite a good amount of fun time gliding in a controlled descent. I never had any issues taking my friends up and scaring the living heck out of them. doing this.
Steve, I cut my flying teeth at this a airport. The stuff I experienced there no longer exists and that may be for the better but, I’m not so sure. Thanks for your comment, it sounds like I wasn’t the only teenager out there doing stupid stuff and living to tell about it.
Bill David
When I was 16 I was out on a very cold January day in Northern New York state solo in a Beech Sport. Practicing engine out glides when the engine did actually stall and the prop stopped. I was surprised by how much air noise there was. In just a few minutes I landed on a frozen lake that had been cleared for a snowmobile race. Airplane had been brought up from Florida and was not yet winterized.
Chris, that is a new one on me, I never heard of “winterizing,” an airplane. Most airplanes, not all, have a winterization plate for the oil cooler but that has nothing to do with the engine quitting. Radial engines might have an oil dilution system but again they are not winterized per se.
Bill David
Great story. I often wonder if pilots today are trained in such a restrictive box that they cannot adapt when things happen outside of it. Attempting and failing the dreaded 180 turn upon engine failure during departure climb out. Or trying to to stretch the glide back to the airport when suitable roads/fields would be a better choice. They say experience allows you to make good decisions. But experience usually comes from making bad decisions. Pilots that have experienced an off field landing are likely more comfortable with that option. Seems like some short grass field work would benefit lots of people.
Robert, I am afraid your suspicions are probably correct. Flight train revolves around getting someone ready for the airlines skipping over basic flying skills and focusing on procedural compliance. The idea is to get the applicant up to speed with technology and have them to be able to type at least 5 words a mile in order to pas a sim check. I like to quote Rod Machado, “a funny thing happened on the way to the practice area, we forgot how to fly. That’s progress…I guess.
Bill David
While never shutting off the engine, my instructor pulled engine out training almost randomly at the end of a lesson. Once near a little airport we had used for touch and goes I asked to take it all the way to a full stop. After that first one, we later did another on a turf runway, and then he threw them in once in a while in the pattern at our home Class D. But always after a discreet request to tower “are you guys busy today?”
Tom, sounds to me like you had a good instructor, you can’t get enough engine failure practice for sure. I wonder what the controllers would think if you just landed without contacting them in a real emergency. Do you think they ever practice that?
Bill David
Wow. What a story. Reminds me…. I was 27, getting my private, in a C152, and the main lesson that day after some steep turns was to be the emergency landing procedure. 3 miles from the airport, my instructor said, while a tad bored and looking out the window to his right, “Ok, take us the through the engine out emergency landing procedure. Aim for the airport.” First thing I did was cut the engine, as in, turned it right off. “What are you doing!” he said, not calmly, no longer bored. “I thought that was step one!,” I said, in my defense. “No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head. Then he said, “Well you might as well dead stick it in, we’re so close.” And that’s what we did. Thanks again for fessing up, after all these years.
Brad, sounds like things worked out all right. The main thing is you learned an important lesson. It sad to say but when ever I pull the engine on a flight review, it very seldom works out. Skill levels are really low, especially if it is on climb out after take off. My feeling is the passengers deserve better.
Bill David
I remember that day at Colts Neck. Well-written story my man.
So you know Colts Neck, too, huh? Cool.
Kevin, EXCELLENT remark sir. Yes I am cool simply because I know about Colts Neck. Colts Neck was a cool place, the people were cool, the airplanes were cool (Cecil Cofrin SP) the flying was cool, the whole damn thing was cool and anybody that was lucky enough to experience it first hand was lucky cool. Yessir, I like your comment, it describes part of the essence of the place and the era.
Bill David
Kid, this reply is not to you but to other people that may read this. They called you, “the kid.” You were my freaking idle. We did some crazy s*** in an airplane, had a good time. I remember my first buzz job with you and another pilot, I think it was Rex but I’m not sure. We were in separate airplanes, me in a 150. We buzzed around and then landed and had a cow to brag about our exploits. I said to you as you sat in your place on the counter, ” man, I was really low.” You just looked at me, took a swig out of the bottle and said, “Billy, you weren’t low man, you gotta come back with corn silk in your gear to be low.” This only made me want to get better and I worked toward that very end and it stemmed from that very day, that very talk, and I worked toward that my whole career. It weren’t no Embry Riddle, that is for sure, it was more of a dream come true for me. I learned a lot more of the right stuff at Colts Neck and you kicked it off.
Dan, now I talking to you. I finally got around to writing another story. Glad you liked it, That means a lot to me, just sayin. I’m heading to Alaska in my six on a great circle route from South Dakota the 23rd of August. It’s me, a doctor friend I taught to fly and a work buddy of mine that retires off the 777 the end of this month. We are flying the trench up if you know what that is, over to Denali, around Alaska for a bit and then down the coast to Washington to head back through the North country back to Ohio, If it works out I want to come see your Cub so be advised. I will send more information enroute.
Billy
At the end of an excellent Private license check ride in a 152 with a delightful mischievous lady FAA Examiner named Gail, she told me to do a soft field crosswind landing as we entered the downwind for our final check ride landing. We were both laughing when I suggested she add something difficult, like anti-aircraft fire. Her response was “OK wise guy,” and she pulled the power to idle. Luckily, I was reasonably ready, called the CT to request short approach, and we landed quite quickly. 152s have the glide path of a winged rock, so it was very short. We made it, my confidence increased, and I got my license, and I remain friends with that Examiner to this day.
Bob, good story, examiners are people too. I might take the liberty to add one “clean up item,” This is what a sim instructor would say to me after a successful check ride. A clean up item is an event or occurrence that takes place durning a check ride that needs to be debriefed on to bring the candidate in better alignment with company policy or procedure. You said that you “request short approach.” I think it would be better to “declare,” short approach. You are driving the airplane, not the controller.
Bill David
Flat out… a great story!
Scott, You should write an article, I am serious. You got your message across to me in a very effective and simple sentence, you made me feel great with only five words. That is impressive, it takes me days to come close to expressing myself in words and I don’t think I come close to this example. It is brilliant.
Bill David
Great story, thanks! I don’t have anything to say in response, wish there was a “Like” icon as in Facebook or YouTube, just wanted you to know I enjoyed it.
Alan, to be honest, and I try to be all the time, your heart felt written comment means more to me than all the FB likes, or YouTube clicks in the world. A toad can do that, human contact is superior. Thank you for that sir.
Bill David
PS unless you are a bot. You’re not a bot are you? :)
“Winterizing” is changing the oil for thinner oil if you don’t have an engine preheater.
I shut off the engine in my Aeronca Chief. We had found the Chief wasn’t descending for landing from 7000 feet in some sort of wave lift. I circled with engine off for an hour in the lift. And then I said to my brother we will dive start it at 4000 feet. But it was April and the engine got cold, and it wouldn’t turn till redline on the airspeed and then it started to rotate and my brother smartly shot in some primer and it fired up. I was a glider pilot, so no issue if it didn’t start, we were over the runway the whole time.
Bill, Back in about 1975 I did a similar thing. I was flying the pipeline patrol in a 172 for Columbia Gas Transmission in Ohio. One of the runs started and ended in Findlay Ohio, and one time when I was flying back to my base in Columbus from Findlay I came up with the bright idea of climbing as high as I could to catch a raging winter tailwind coming out of the northwest on a beautiful day in February. I think I got up to 12,000 feet or so before I shut the engine off and stalled the prop. I had such a groundspeed I was sure I could make it all the way to CMH but, I chickened out over OSU and started the motor. I had to use the primer too on that one.
Thanks for the comments,
Bill David
Bill, I learned to fly there in 1975! A guy named Stein Svendsen was my first CFI, but he wasn’t a good fit so I switched to Paul Willie, who also taught the ground school, nights, one summer at Red Bank High. Soon thereafter we discovered Marlboro (called “Preston” back then) and I soloed in one of their 150s on my 16th birthday in 1976! Alas, my thoughts turned to music and I stopped flying. In the last 10 or so years I have done a bit of occasional flying and now that my health has improved I am testing the waters for a special issuance so I can achieve my lifelong dream of earning the PPL. The CFI I am flying with tonight, Sunday, July 16, in a Diamond DA 40 here at KROC, says that I fly better than most of his private students and some of his private pilots, and that I’ll have no problem earning the private if I’m able to, so I’m gonna take that to the bank and see what I can do with it. When I first scanned the opening of your article and I saw “Colts Neck airport” and I nearly shit myself because you don’t see that except with those few people our age who know what Colts Neck airport was. Now it’s just a bunch of McMansions, and ugly ones at that. Besides, there’s a golf course nearby having a name of which the sane never speak. Apparently flight instruction is a big deal here in Rochester, because there are two flying instruction groups on the airport property, but one of them has closed itself off to anybody except those pursuing a professional career because they have so many interested people! In fact, their waiting list is 150 names long! The boss told me, however, that if I do get the special issuance I should give her a call and she’ll bump me up (also because I’m a veteran) in the waiting list line! I’ll probably stick with the DA40 outfit because I found a great CFI there. For me the moment of liftoff is a spiritual experience. I love flying but damn glad I have some extra because it ain’t cheap anymore. I think at Colts Neck it was $50 for an hour of airplane and CFI, maybe less because I don’t remember. Thanks for the memories. BTW, to you and any who read this, you’ll see a lot of pictures of the Marlboro airport I took a few years ago and offered to the abandoned airfield website, which he published. Good memories.
Kevin, Thank you for such good feedback, it really gives me a sense of connection to my aviation past. I would not want to compare what I learned back then to how they learn today. Sorry, but todays diploma mills don’t even come close.
From where I lived in Holmdel, I would ride my bike to Preston and I did several times. In fact I talked my 16 year old friend into buying a Champ from a guy there. My buddy forged his father’s name on a trust fund check but we got caught. I knew this when one day I was sitting in Red Bank High School looking out the window and there comes my mother across the lawn walking to the office to inform me that we had been caught, but that is another story.
A lot has changed from the last 50 years or so and it is good to feel the connection to that time with you. We are a bad of brothers, brother.
Bill David
I live in the Sierra Nevada mountains where all of the terrain is challenging. The Sierra Valley has lots of flat ground…except in winter when it’s covered in ice and snow that becomes a lake in the spring…etc. Therefore…
While I practice glides to a landing periodically my focus is more about how to take good care of what’s under the cowl so I can avoid having to demonstrate my glides to a landing skills for real.
Unfortunately it seems there’s too little focus on managing the engine during flight training and too few pilots understand the importance of keeping an eye on engine temperatures.
My $.02
Jack, Your $.02 is worth more than one life I would say. If a pilot would heed your sound advice he might save the life of one or more his passengers. The sad truth is few pilots practice the skills required to make a forced landing in North Western Ohio where it couldn’t be easier, let alone the Sierra Nevadas. Keep up the good work.
Bill David