safely recovered the Marchetti. “I was wings-level with five hundred and sixty feet to spare.” He transmitted. They went through the maneuver again. But this time, the inspector entered a fully developed inverted stall, just as Johar had experienced. The aircraft was still inverted when it fell through 5,000 feet, where the ground would have been if they had been at the same altitude as the air show. “Shit-oh-dear,” the inspector radioed. “You have to hold it with wrong stick and rudder to make it happen. The bird wants to fly out of it naturally.”
“What does that mean?” Kate asked.
“Jim just confirmed what we saw and heard on Johar’s videotape. Beason was on the controls.”
“Do you want to try it?” the inspector radioed.
Pontowski looked at the lawyer. “Oh, yes,” she said.
Again, they repeated the scissors maneuver, only this time Pontowski did the spin. But his Marchetti would not flip inverted and they entered a normal spin. They only lost 600 feet before recovering. “Can we do that again?” Kate asked.
“We can try.” He keyed the radio. “Miss Winstonwants to do it again. She wants to see the world from upside down.”
“Ah,” the inspector answered, “maybe we should RTB. My guy looks kinda green. Oops, he’s puking his guts out.” The lawyer’s stomach had caught up with him once they were flying straight and level.
The two planes joined up in a loose formation for the leg back to Williams. “I love it,” Kate said. “That was the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.”
Before Pontowski could answer, an annunciator light on the control panel blinked at them. He scanned the engine instruments. The oil pressure gauge was reading zero. “Jim, I’ve lost my oil pressure,” he radioed. “I’m gonna have to shut the engine down.”
“There’s a fairly straight part of a dirt road at nine o’clock, two miles,” the inspector replied. “Shut ’er down while I check it out.” He nosed his Marchetti over and stroked the throttle, racing for the ground while he radioed Phoenix Approach about the emergency. Pontowski went through the engine shut-down procedures and set up his glide airspeed while the inspector overflew the dirt road. “It looks kinda rough, Matt. Plus there’s a series of high-tension power lines crossing the road. You might want to look somewhere else.”
“It’s pretty rocky out here,” Pontowski radioed. “Unless I see something more promising, I’ll go for the road.” The inspector answered with two short clicks on the radio button. When all was said and done, it was Pontowski’s decision. “The road is the smoothest piece of real estate around here,” Pontowski told Kate, an obvious understatement.
Kate sucked in her breath when she saw three sets of power lines that made big droops as they crossed the dirt road in front of them. “Can we make it?” she asked.
“No problem,” Pontowski answered.
Her breath was coming in short bursts. “We don’t have enough altitude!”
“Check the road,” he ordered. “Look for potholes.” He concentrated on the power lines as he descended.
“I see some holes,” Kate shouted. They cleared the first power line by fifty feet. Ahead of them, she couldsee the next high-tension wire. “We’re not high enough to fly over it!” she screamed.
“Who said anything about flying over,” Pontowski replied, his voice calm and measured. He dropped a notch of flaps and hit the gear handle, lowering the landing gear. The sudden drag caused the Marchetti to drop like a rock without changing its attitude. They dropped beneath the second power line and flew under, touching down on a smooth section of road. “Nice, baby, real nice.” He was talking to the Marchetti as they rode out a series of rough bumps. They rolled to a stop and he radioed they were down safely.
He slid the canopy back as the other Marchetti flew by and did a wing wag before heading for Williams. “Cheated death again,”
“What does that mean?” Kate asked.
“Jim just confirmed what we saw and heard on Johar’s videotape. Beason was on the controls.”
“Do you want to try it?” the inspector radioed.
Pontowski looked at the lawyer. “Oh, yes,” she said.
Again, they repeated the scissors maneuver, only this time Pontowski did the spin. But his Marchetti would not flip inverted and they entered a normal spin. They only lost 600 feet before recovering. “Can we do that again?” Kate asked.
“We can try.” He keyed the radio. “Miss Winstonwants to do it again. She wants to see the world from upside down.”
“Ah,” the inspector answered, “maybe we should RTB. My guy looks kinda green. Oops, he’s puking his guts out.” The lawyer’s stomach had caught up with him once they were flying straight and level.
The two planes joined up in a loose formation for the leg back to Williams. “I love it,” Kate said. “That was the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.”
Before Pontowski could answer, an annunciator light on the control panel blinked at them. He scanned the engine instruments. The oil pressure gauge was reading zero. “Jim, I’ve lost my oil pressure,” he radioed. “I’m gonna have to shut the engine down.”
“There’s a fairly straight part of a dirt road at nine o’clock, two miles,” the inspector replied. “Shut ’er down while I check it out.” He nosed his Marchetti over and stroked the throttle, racing for the ground while he radioed Phoenix Approach about the emergency. Pontowski went through the engine shut-down procedures and set up his glide airspeed while the inspector overflew the dirt road. “It looks kinda rough, Matt. Plus there’s a series of high-tension power lines crossing the road. You might want to look somewhere else.”
“It’s pretty rocky out here,” Pontowski radioed. “Unless I see something more promising, I’ll go for the road.” The inspector answered with two short clicks on the radio button. When all was said and done, it was Pontowski’s decision. “The road is the smoothest piece of real estate around here,” Pontowski told Kate, an obvious understatement.
Kate sucked in her breath when she saw three sets of power lines that made big droops as they crossed the dirt road in front of them. “Can we make it?” she asked.
“No problem,” Pontowski answered.
Her breath was coming in short bursts. “We don’t have enough altitude!”
“Check the road,” he ordered. “Look for potholes.” He concentrated on the power lines as he descended.
“I see some holes,” Kate shouted. They cleared the first power line by fifty feet. Ahead of them, she couldsee the next high-tension wire. “We’re not high enough to fly over it!” she screamed.
“Who said anything about flying over,” Pontowski replied, his voice calm and measured. He dropped a notch of flaps and hit the gear handle, lowering the landing gear. The sudden drag caused the Marchetti to drop like a rock without changing its attitude. They dropped beneath the second power line and flew under, touching down on a smooth section of road. “Nice, baby, real nice.” He was talking to the Marchetti as they rode out a series of rough bumps. They rolled to a stop and he radioed they were down safely.
He slid the canopy back as the other Marchetti flew by and did a wing wag before heading for Williams. “Cheated death again,”
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