October 29, 2019 Colorado Cool-Ade

The Liberty Gazette

October 29, 2019

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: The CH-54 Skycrane is so unique looking, it draws a lot of attention. But sometimes, you might not want as much as you get. Last week, Curtis Laird told part of the story of picking up a cargo pod at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, using the big Crane to carry it to Fort Benning, Georgia. This helicopter can carry about 20,000 pounds. It’s no lightweight.

The first leg of that trip was the adventure he shared last week. Here’s what happened after the fuel stop, on the second leg.

Curtis: We planned our next fuel stop to be an airport in Mississippi. As we landed, we immediately realized this airfield was the headquarters for the Mississippi Highway Patrol Aviation Division.

Now a CH-54 draws about as much attention as a B-52, and it wasn’t long before a bunch of them Mississippi pilots had gathered ‘round to ogle our aircraft. The shut-down procedures take a few minutes to complete, and once we had that done, we got out to stretch our legs just as one of the state troopers walked up and asked to look inside the pod – the cargo we were carrying.

Our quick-thinking crew chief advised the trooper that there was classified material on board and no one was allowed within twenty feet of the aircraft.

We filled up with fuel and got on our way, our last leg of this trip back to Fort Benning. Once we were in the air, I asked the crew chief why he told the trooper there was classified material on board. The last time I had checked, there was nothing there but a tarp with a few pieces of luggage under it.

Then someone on the intercom mentioned that some of the guys at Fort Benning would like to have some “Colorado Cool-Ade” and there were a few cases under that tarp. Of course, they were referring to Coors beer, and figured the fine trooper might be a bit surprised if he saw it.

Mike: From firefights and tarantulas, and John-Wayne-style defense in Vietnam to smuggling coveted brew into Georgia that back then you couldn’t buy east of here, Curtis Laird’s accumulated adventures have turned him into a storyteller. If you run into him in the grocery store, take advantage of the opportunity to hear some more, because, as Harry Reasoner explained, “A helicopter does not want to fly. It is maintained in the air by a variety of forces and controls working in opposition to each, and if there is any disturbance in this delicate balance the helicopter stops flying, immediately and disastrously. There is no such thing as a gliding helicopter. That is why being a helicopter pilot is so different from being an airplane pilot.”

Indeed, the helicopter pilot is a different breed. They must anticipate trouble, and as a result, they dance to the beat of their own drum.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

October 22, 2019 Laird Stateside

The Liberty Gazette

October 22, 2019

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: We’re back with more from Curtis Laird, this time, flying here in his own country.

Curtis: While stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia as operations officer of the 478th Heavy Helicopter Company, we received a mission to fly a CH-54 “Skycrane” to pick up a cargo pod at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. This helicopter weighs about 20,000 pounds when it’s empty. It can carry so much load and still fly weighing as much as 42,000 pounds. The fuel stops on the return trip were the places that gave me more stories to tell.

Nearing our first stop, Barksdale Air Force Base in Louisiana, we advised the tower controller we’d be refueling. To our surprise, they advised of “a situation in progress,” and they’d direct us where to park. Unfortunately, they were leading us to a light load parking area. To top it off, the area had just been paved with asphalt. Fresh asphalt in Louisiana in July could be a problem for such heavy aircraft. We’d be taking on several thousands of pounds of fuel and if we parked there, we’d sink for sure. Somehow, this information fell on deaf ears. They told us to stay put and a refueler would be with us shortly. When we were ready to depart, we were told again to wait. All this time, our helicopter’s weight (now heavier with full fuel) couldn’t have been good news for that new paving job.

My solution to this problem was to request a vertical take-off to 5,000 feet. Then, whatever “situation” they had in progress wouldn’t be affected by us taxiing or otherwise being in the way. By this time, we had sunk eight inches into the asphalt, so I advised the tower controller we’d be upward bound as soon as we got unstuck. To accomplish this, we rocked the bird to loosen it from the sticky stuff. The “collective” is what you pull to make the helicopter go up. I pulled it up to my armpit, and in about a minute we were straight up, 5,000 feet.

Since they’d been so difficult to work with just getting fuel, I had one last “dig” for them before we were out of their airspace. “You’ll need to get someone out to that parking apron,” I said, “and fill those holes before someone taxis into one.” The silence was golden.

The controller evidently wasn’t familiar with the capabilities of our ship. The Skycrane set several records back in 1968: A vertical climb to 9,800’ in one minute, 38 seconds; a vertical climb to 29,000’ in seven minutes, 54 seconds; and a max ceiling (the highest it could go) of 31,400’.

The next flight offered a bit of a surprise.

Linda: You’ll have to wait until next week for that one. But it’s worth it. Here’s a hint: that CH-54 is so unique looking, it draws a lot of attention. Sometimes, you might not want as much as you get.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

October 15, 2019 Curtis Laird on How to Drop Gunpowder

The Liberty Gazette

October 15, 2019

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Remember last week’s story from the Literature of Laird, about him going all John Wayne and getting those seven dump trucks in a circle to protect their aircraft overnight from the Viet Cong? That happened in Kontum and just a few days later, he was assigned another mission to fly back there again.

Curtis: On that next mission, it seemed the enemy wanted to make everybody miserable as they started a periodic shelling of the airfield and some of the surrounding area. We were flying loads of gunpowder and projectiles to the friendly artillery as they were trying to make the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese miserable also.

These loads we carried with our heavy-duty helicopters called Cranes averaged between 14,000 and 15,000 pounds each. That’s a lot of gunpowder. We were in-bound with our first load when we radioed those in charge at the Kontum airfield to ask where they wanted us to release it. We were quite surprised at the instructions. It seemed the bad guys were trying to knock out the airfield, and we would have to deliver the loads onto the beds of moving five-ton trucks.

The “plan,” if you want to call it that, was as we would make our approach, a truck would zoom out of a revetment and race down the runway, dodging the craters from their mortar attacks. We would approach the moving vehicle from the rear and deposit the load in the bed. The truck would continue, darting back into another revetment for safety. Like other unique situations we encountered in war, this was another one of those “no rehearsal” exercises.

Although we all had a lot of apprehension about surviving this plan, fortunately, it worked. Three weeks later, my unit relocated south about 120 miles, and there was no more Kontum for a while.

Linda: When Curtis was back in the U.S., he flew medivac for the U.S. Army. That experience showed him that people are capable of doing the worst things to each other, no matter what country they’re in. But he also had some interesting experiences flying here stateside. And talk about the importance of being flexible, ready for anything and ability to “turn on a dime”… Fortunately, Curtis’ previous forays into adventure taught him to think fast on his feet. Like that time he was flying from Fort Benning, Georgia to Fort Sill, Oklahoma to pick up a cargo pod for the 478th Heavy Helicopter Company.

Nearing the fuel stop at Barksdale AFB in Louisiana, Curtis and crew advised the tower controller they’d be refueling. To their surprise, the controller advised of “a situation in progress,” and they’d direct the helicopter where to park. Unfortunately, they led them to a light load parking area which had just been paved with asphalt. Fresh asphalt in Louisiana in July could be a problem for such heavy aircraft. Come back next week for that story and more.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

October 8, 2019 Curtis Laird's John Wayne Moment

The Liberty Gazette

October 8, 2019

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: When Linda and I visited Vietnam a couple of years ago, our Mekong River tour guide, Vi, explained that the area was once heavily populated by tigers. Linda asked, “Where are all the tigers now?” Vi said with a grin, “They went to the restaurants.”

Curtis Laird is back this week with more from his time in Vietnam.

Curtis: Upon arriving “in country” for my second tour, in August of 1968, I received numerous briefings and an update on the tactical situation. A few days later, I was in the cockpit getting my in-country checkout, and it felt good to be back in the air again. A few days after this, I was flying missions with a more experienced aircraft commander. One of those missions I remember well was to fly to Kontum and extract two 155mm Howitzers from a mountaintop fire base and deliver them to the Kontum airfield.

The first lift went well, and we returned to the mountaintop for our second lift. After hook-up and hover check, we transitioned out of the fire base enroute to the airfield. It was then that the #1 engine dropped completely offline. This created a situation all aviators hate to be caught up in.

We contacted Kontum and advised them of our problem, and that we would try and release our 15,000-pound load by the runway. The plan was to make a modified running landing and release right before touchdown. We went over the plan with the flight engineer and crew chief. All agreed, this was our best option. There would be no rehearsals.

Fortunately, the plan worked perfectly. After the artillery guys got their guns and left, we checked the aircraft over and determined the engine malfunction was due to a mechanical problem. Unfortunately, the needed parts would have to be flown in from Camp Hollaway in Pleiku. It was getting dark, and we were in the rainy season which meant the flight crew would have to stay overnight in the bunkers. The aircraft would be left out in the open, a prime target for the enemy.

However, there happened to be an Engineer Dump Truck Company in the area. After locating the commander and explaining our situation to him, he agreed to let us borrow seven dump trucks to surround our aircraft. We hoped the trucks would protect the helicopters from rocket and mortar fire.

After positioning the trucks, we all retired to the bunkers where we spent a restless night. There were many explosions overnight, but mostly from a distance. The maintenance crew flew in the next day with the parts, and by the time we were back up and flyable, it was already getting dark again. But we were not keen on spending another night in Kontum, John Wayne style, so we flew back to Camp Hollaway, that being the lesser risk.

Linda: Good thing the tigers were gone by then. The people there were bad enough.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

October 1, 2019 Curtis Laird's Wildlife

The Liberty Gazette

October 1, 2019

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: We met up with Dayton’s Curtis Laird again. That always results in storytelling, you know. During his tours in Vietnam, the veteran helicopter pilot took time to see the beauty of the country and the wild, wildlife.

Curtis: The beaches and coastal area of Vietnam are amazing. White sand, blue sea, and coconut palms made me wonder if Robinson Crusoe was following me. I’d marvel at the full moon over the South China Sea, and especially the contrails of about twenty-five B-52s, in the moonlight.

On one of my daytime missions along the coast, we were to fly from Qui Nhon to Nha Trang and recon some islands. There was a little scud (low clouds) onshore, so we flew about a quarter mile offshore. A few minutes into the flight, I saw on the horizon what appeared to be a swift boat. These were not common in this area. As we closed in on it, we ruled out boat but still could not identify it. I told the crew chief and gunner to ready up. We were going to check it out. Upon close observation, we discovered we’d prepared for battle with a giant oceanic manta ray on a feeding frenzy. It was a beautiful sight, as it would lift its wings out of the water, then slap the surface, then swim around and feed on its prey. We estimated it to be fifteen feet from wingtip to wingtip, but those rays can get over twenty-five feet.

Some of the other coastal wildlife and fowl are wild deer, ducks, peafowl, cuckoos, pheasants, and lots of no-shoulders. That is, snakes.

Going inland to the central highlands, it’s like entering a different world. Lush vegetation, waterfalls, valleys with steep slopes of greenery. There are wild boar, bear, monkeys, and green, blue and yellow parakeets, which leads me to another tale.

We were coming off general support status, relocating to provide assistance to another unit. The flight leader decided we would fly low level in loose formation. There were some uncomfortable feelings about this. There we were at treetop level (sometimes referred to as the nap of the earth), twelve aircraft going about 90-100 knots. Well into the flight, the leader made some erratic movements. We thought he was taking fire, but he came up on the radio and advised he’d had a bird strike. That was a relief given the alternative, but it did leave a big hole in the left chin bubble.

After things settled down from that excitement, I saw a blue cloud fly by. The radio came to life again. Some of the other crews had seen it also. Then we saw a green cloud about the same size as the blue one. That’s when we discovered we had flown right through parakeet country, putting its residents in panic mode.

Mike: Come back next week for another installment of Laird Storytelling.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

September 24, 2019 Turnberry and the Bruce!

The Liberty Gazette

September 24, 2019

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: “At the round-about take the SECOND exit,” repeats in my head even though we’ve been back from Scotland almost two weeks. The GPS’s message seems permanently planted in my brain. While recently visiting the Scottish Lowlands, I renewed my familiarity with driving from the right seat on the left-hand side of the road while turning right around traffic circles. A lot of traffic circles. The rental car’s navigation system sounded irritated when I did not follow its prompts. At least I didn’t have to shift gears, thanks to the automatic transmission, somewhat of a luxury in Europe.

Linda was on a mission, and I was the designated driver. She is doing research on a notorious ancestor of hers, one Sir Robert Logan, who provided a great deal of material suitable for an epic play. Today’s destination was the ruins of Turnberry Castle, south of Ayr, and the birthplace of Robert the Bruce, a former king of Scotland, also her ancestor. There isn’t much left of the castle, but it provided an opportunity to see part of the country’s west coast.

A lighthouse built in the 19th century now stands where the castle walls were tumbled down early in the 14th century. But some of the old walls are still visible. We took advantage of a break in rain showers and walked half a mile from the parking area through a golf course. That’s when I discovered this was also a Royal Air Force base, not once, but twice. In fact, the paved path on which we strode cut across the middle of a slab of runway.

The links existed before World War I. When the fighting began, the property was requisitioned and turned into a training base for the Royal Air Corps. Cadets spent three weeks learning to fly and shoot guns in aerial combat. When the hostilities were over, it was reverted to long, rough fairways, soft, manicured greens, and a boatload of sand traps.

During World War II, once again it was enlisted. The RAF’s Coastal Command trained pilots in torpedo-bombers to drop a new kind of bomb, the “Highball,” that bounced along the water into the sides of enemy ships. But they never used it in battle. Later, the RAF based their Consolidated B-24 Liberators here. They carried torpedoes, depth charges, and rockets, for knocking out German U-boats in the Atlantic.

From a small hillock, the runway seemed short. The wind whipped, and the rain splattered. A monument to the lost airmen of World War I overlooked the torrential waters of the Firth of Clyde. A bump of granite that formed a dome over a volcano long ago stuck out of the sea. They call the rock Ailsa Craig.

I imagined heavily laden B-24s lumbering down the hastily constructed concrete runways into windswept skies. I listened for the rumble of their radial engines. I’d much rather hear that than the GPS voice enthusiastic about a roundabout.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

September 17, 2019 More Aerial Adventures of Will Smithson

The Liberty Gazette

September 17, 2019

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Will Smithson has landed out in a glider nine times, so far. That means he’s not made it back to the Soaring Club of Houston’s grass runway and someone had to come pick him up. Depending on where he lands, either a tow plane will come, or, if he doesn’t make it to an airport, someone will drive Will’s car and trailer, help him disassemble the glider, and drive back. It’s inconvenient, but glider pilots prepare for it.

The first time he landed out in a glider, he ended up in a field, where the grass was four feet high. Tall growth can make it hard to determine from above how much father the ground is below. Just before landing, the pilot must enter the flare, pulling the nose up slightly for a smooth landing. However, Will flared too high, because he thought the grass was at ground level. “Before I touched down, grass and seeds were flying everywhere, all over the canopy. The ground wasn’t where I expected it to be.”

The rest of that landing was uneventful, and most of his other land-outs haven’t been that thrilling. “The land-out itself isn’t a big deal, as long as you pick an appropriate field. I’ve done it so many times that now it only takes me twenty to thirty minutes to take the plane apart.”

But there was that one time. As the thermals dissipated, he realized he would have to land. “By then, I was pretty confident I could land anywhere. The field below me was about fourteen hundred feet with a fence in the middle. ‘No big deal,’ I thought, ‘I can get over the fence. I’ll put out the spoilers and have six to seven hundred feet to stop.’ But close to the ground, I saw it was going downhill. I was moving forward, still trying to get the glider to touch the ground.” The slope wasn’t discernible from the air.

Finally, Will touched down, but on the ground roll, the fence and trees seemed to be coming at him fast. He applied full right rudder and aileron and stopped 80 feet from the trees, ground-looping the plane. Fortunately, there was no major damage.

In the moment, Will says, “I was so busy flying the plane, that I wasn’t scared. My only thought process was flying and landing the plane. But after that, I figured my risk tolerance was too high. I needed more of a buffer.”

Someday, Will would like a plane with a motor, because then he can be more adventurous. Meanwhile, his brick award is at home. It’s actually a foam block painted red. But it's not the only recognition he received at last year's banquet. He also won first place in sport class local competition, the spirit of soaring award, and the taco award—a special one club members made up just for him because, “Ask anyone who picks me up. My car is a mess.”

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

September 10, 2019 The Aerial Beginnings of Will Smithson

The Liberty Gazette

September 10, 2019

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

The little black thing Will Smithson saw in the air looked like a bird. It wasn’t really soaring in circles, as he was accustomed to seeing them do, but perhaps it was just doing its thing. As he commanded his glider closer, taking advantage of the lift provided by the thermal, he could finally make out what that “bird” was doing. It was a trash bag flitting around, stuck in the updraft.

Will had always been interested in aviation. When he was 22, he tried to find the cheapest way to fly. His internet search introduced him to hang gliding. He knew as they were climbing to altitude on the demo ride that this could be his entry to the flying world.

Will learned how air rises and moves, and that thermals give you lift. But with hang gliders, you’re always “landing out,” meaning when there’s no more lift, you’re coming down, and landing where you are, as opposed to returning to land at an airfield. After four years of this, he wanted something more. Another internet search resulted in his discovering that gliders have a 40:1 glide ratio, which sure beat his hang glider’s 12:1 ratio. By moving up to a sailplane, he’d get forty feet forward for every one foot down. That would sure improve his chances of finding those thermals and staying aloft longer.

In January 2017, Will went to the Soaring Club of Houston and took a demo ride. He was hooked and joined same day, saying, “I thought it was expensive. But then talked myself into it, because you only live once, and this is what I wanted to do.”

Will sold his hang glider and bought a sailplane. Someday, he would like to fly powered aircraft, but for now, he’s learning so much about soaring, he can’t give it up. “You’re engaged for four or five hours, always busy, always thinking what’s ahead, what’s in the next cloud, engaged the whole time.”

In fact, he says soaring has ruined his life completely. “Friends want me to join them on trips, like going back to Honduras, where I grew up. But there aren’t any sites to see there. Why go, when I could spend that money on flying? I want to be flying my glider! One-third of my day I spend thinking about cross-country flying. It’s the first and last thing I think about—when I wake up, and when I go to bed.

Over the past two and a half years, Will has learned a great deal about himself as well as aerodynamics and thermal dynamics, because he’s willing to push the limits. All that time spent hang gliding increased his comfort zone for landing anywhere.

“Landing out,” he says, “I’m pretty well-known for that.” At last year’s awards banquet, he was given the brick award and dubbed the land-out king.

Next week we’ll share some of his wild soaring adventures, including one that made him rethink his tolerance for risk.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

September 3, 2019 My Scottish Airline, Loganair

The Liberty Gazette

September 3, 2019

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Once upon a time, before I was born, William Logan owned a construction company in his homeland Scotland. Willie, as they called him, had projects all over the country, and he’d hire an air taxi (charter) to fly him to work sites farther away. The same year I popped into the world and was given the family name Logan as my middle name, that air taxi company faced financial troubles. Since Willie relied on the economy and efficiency of air travel for business, he bought the company and re-named it Loganair. They had one airplane, a Piper Aztec.

Now I’ve flown an Aztec, or as some call it, an “Az-truck.” It’s an okay airplane. Great for training in multi-engine aircraft and, I suppose, for starting an airline in 1962. You gotta begin somewhere. There was a lot of paperwork to do, approvals required from the government and all that red tape. As my parents were celebrating my first birthday in October, Loganair took off on its first scheduled flight, a short hop, Dundee to Edinburgh, where Willie was the main contractor building the Tay Road bridge, one of the longest in Europe.

Business grew when they won the contract to deliver newspapers to Stornoway, an island in the Outer Hebrides, about halfway to Iceland. When they unloaded papers from the Aztec, the sheepherders filled it back up with woven cloth to take to Harris Tweed. Then came contracts for service to other islands and an air ambulance. The fleet expanded to five aircraft based at Glasgow.

Things were going great, until January 22, 1966, when Willie wanted to return home from a construction site late at night. The weather was cloudy, and the dispatcher told him there was no suitable aircraft for flying in low clouds at night. No problem, he’d take a train. Or not. He changed his mind and called another air taxi company, which turned out to be a deadly mistake. That operation was unapproved, and the pilot was unfamiliar with the area and carried no navigation charts. When he descended through the clouds, the airplane hit a hill and that was the end of Willie Logan. The insurance claim was denied, and the construction company dissolved.

But the bank took over Loganair’s assets and eventually found a buyer. The airline is still based at Glasgow, now with a fleet of 25 and even has its own registered tartan, the clan design painted on the tail.

Among the over 40 routes they own throughout Scotland, England, and the Channel Islands, is the world’s shortest commercial flight. Depending on the wind, it takes Loganair’s Britten Norman Islander about 80 seconds to fly 1.7 miles between Westray and Papa Westray in the Orkney Islands. With a population less than 100, building bridges isn’t economical. The only other option is a very slow ferry, making the hop in an eight-passenger Islander the most popular choice. Someday, I’d like to take that flight in an airplane with my name on it.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

August 27, 2019 The Last Day of Re-Flights

The Liberty Gazette

August 27, 2019

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: We had great fun filling the week with re-flights around Southern California. Flying select cross-country flights with Mike allowed me to share in his memories of his earliest days aviating.

He still has friends out there where he grew up, and one couple invited us to stay the night before we started our long flight home. They rounded up another friend Mike grew up with, and we all went to dinner together. Since we’re vegan, Asian restaurants make a good choice when we’re with a group of meat-eaters. Avocado rolls and edamame are always on the menu.

Mike’s buddies wanted to know what he was up to, what this trip west was all about. He’s writing a book of historic interest for pilots on the significant changes that have occurred in the way we fly, since he began his journey in flight training 44 years ago. For research, we took the same type of airplane he learned in, back to the same airspace, and retraced his chem trails, noting differences in FAA regulations, shape and size of controlled airspace, changes in the number and busyness of airports and air traffic control towers, and much more. Technology has changed much of the way we fly, too. Both in and outside the cockpit, technological advances have made flying easier, even in the crowded skies over Southern California.

On the way back from the Japanese sushi house, at a stoplight, we thought Leandro, whose big truck we were in, was messing with us, pumping hydraulics or brakes or something. The truck was a-rockin’! Randy, Nancy, and I were laughing at Leandro, saying, “Okay, that’s enough bouncing the truck.” But just then, Mike hollered, “Look at the traffic lights! He’s not doing it—it’s another earthquake!”

Only one day after my first quake, I had just experienced my second. It came from the same epicenter, but jostled us with more magnitude, 7.1 this time. To me, it was exciting. When we returned to our hosts’ home, their dining room chandelier and heavy window blinds were still swaying.

As we do when hurricanes threaten us here, everyone turns on the TV news to find out what they need to know. From the local news channels, I learned about Dr. Lucy Jones, an amazing expert from Cal Tech. She’s been at this a long time and reports what’s happening geologically. Somehow, she takes complex technical details and makes them easy for non-geologists to comprehend. No wonder she’s so popular.

Departing the next morning, we flew the rest of the day and overnighted in Las Cruces. Landing back home the following day, we tucked the Elyminator back in the nest, and tallied it all up: 10 days, 41.7 hours of flight time, 4,075 nautical miles, 32 landings, 21 pages of notes, 2 earthquakes, many good friends, and loads of memories.

Every day of this adventure was chock-full of fun. These past few articles have been teasers for Mike’s upcoming book. We’ll let you know when it’s out.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com