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Let's hear from the old schoolers

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There I was, flat on my back, one turnin' one burnin' and me hangin' on by the headset cable. Then we get the memo: "All pilots are to turn in communications gear immediately and forthwith."

Well, I'll tell ya, it was a sticky spot, but I'd seen worse...
 
There I was, flat on my back, bleary-eyed from the wild night of margaritas and tequila shots. I couldn't quite remember what room I was in; or where my room was. Through the fog of hangover, I remembered arriving in Cabo that evening, and checking into the hotel, but after that it was all a blur of bikinis, booze and pool bar.

I rolled over and saw the heifer in bed with me, and realized I was in a REAL tight spot. She was about a deuce and a half. And I couldn't find my pants. Or remember what room was mine (was this it?)

THEN it got interesting when the chief pilot walked out of the shower and asked, "ready for round two?"
 
Mayhap it's time to resurrect this thread for a bit.

Here's a good one where the moral of the story is that you always get what's coming to you, and it usually happens in the most hilarious and humiliating fashion. The summer of '99, I was working as a fueler and ramp-rat at Burke Lakefront airport in Cleveland. The job paid the bills because flight instructing sure wasn't cutting it. There were four of us on the 7 to 3 shift: myself, a new trainee named Kevin, a veteran fueler named Steve-o, and the line manager Rob.

Rob was one of those types that believed that he was the be all and end all, and that he shouldn't be bothered with trivial things like... work. He was also very quick to point out your flaws and would not even have the decency to look in your direction when he refused your desperate pleadings for help with that ramp full of biz jets during game 6 of the playoffs and the Indians were winning. I'd locked horns with him a time or two, and for the record yes I really do think he needs to have a boot broken off in his arse (long story).

Anywhat, I was in the hangar doing some upkeep on one of the tugs. Kevin and Rob were squatting beneath a Falcon 900 owned by a very eccentric and somewhat senile Cleveland bazillionaire (he was an owner of the San Jose Sharks at the time, and had the team logo painted on the tail). This particular Falcon had two distinct "chambers" inside the cabin. The front was where the galley and fore lav were, and was the place that the crew got to call home on extended trips. The rear was the private stateroom and aft lav for the owner, and let me just say that his taste in movies was rather interesting. I know this because after one flight he'd forgotten to put away his collection of Swedish bondage massage films. Rob was in the process of showing Kevin how to work the Crapillac Poop-DeVille, our affectionate name for the lav cart, by servicing the aft lav.

I'd serviced the aft lav on this plane before, and I knew that the cap for the dump valve was a bit gimpy. It took some doing to get it to come off because some bozo in the past at some other FBO had cross-threaded it. Rob popped open the access door and wrestled with the cap trying to get it off. It wouldn't budge no matter how he twisted and heaved and argued with it, so he improvised. He went to the nearby tool rack and got a flat head screwdriver and a rubber mallet, the proceeded to beat the cap into submission to by trying to chisel and pry it off. I put down my quart of oil and sat on the tug, eagerly awaiting the show that I knew was coming soon.

The cap finally budged enough to come loose, and now it could be turned by hand. Rob happened to be directly under the thing and started loosening it. He looked up at Kevin and uttered the immortal words "Now, make sure you're not directly under this thing when you take the cap off. There might be a suprise waiting behind it." Kevin nodded, and with a final twist of the wrist Rob freed the valve cap.

Now, I'm guessing that all of that banging and prying and chiseling with the screwdriver and mallet was not well received by the innards of the lav dumping system. Apparently, the vibrations and the impacts were enough to knock the dump valve open. Rob was looking up at the panel to see what he was doing, and he was greeted right in the face by 4 and a half gallons of chunky bluish-green foulness that I don't really care to imagine. Kevin got off easy because his shoes were the only casualties, but Rob was drenched from head to toe in the stuff. He got up slowly, like a zombie rising from the grave in a George Romero flick, and started walking very stiffly through the hangar. He barked an order at me to open the door for him and follow him to the janitor closet where I proceeded to dump bleach and hot water on him to wash off the filth. He then excused himself to go home and get changed, and we didn't see him again the rest of the day. Steve-o missed the entire crap-tastrophe because he was on the ramp fueling a jet, but he shared a hearty laugh with us as he helped us clean up the mess.

True, it was a filthy mess, but it came to be in such a rewarding fashion for the three of us.
 
I once had to use laquer thinner to get the aluminum pigmented dope off my leather jacket...thank God I have never had to deal with servicing lavs!
 
I was a new DC-3 F/O. The Captain had to take a dump and we have no lav. He goes to the back, uses a garbage bag, and brings it to the cockpit to throw it out of the window (I don't advocate littering but I believe he was in compliance with 91.15). At the end of the flight a hideous discovery was made. The trash bag was snagged on the cargo door hinge and the trash bag was in shreds. Use your imagination as to what was on the fuselage behind the cargo door! :eek:
 
Hey Avbug, you bird story reminded me of some bird events from my past. When spraying alfalfa in the early spring there were so many blackbirds hitting the airplane that I finally pretty much stopped paying attention as they hit the airplane. I went out one time right after washing the airplane and counted over 40 strikes on the airplane after spraying one 125 acre circle. Actually had a small blackbird hit the fresh air vent dead on and come up into the cockpit still alive. Needless to say he was not too happy! With no way to open any doors or windows in flight, I did the only thing I could think of. I finished the pass I was on, pulled up in the turn and grabbed the bird and twisted its head off. Problem solved.

Another bird "incident" that I recall involved a large group of vultures. I had been working a large river bottom cotton field and had just returned to the field after reloading. There was a large H-pole power line running diagonally across the field on the far end. These were wires that you could go under earlier in the season when the crop was shorter. It was also in the afternoon and the heat was causing some sag in the wires so it would be an extremely tight fit to go under. Adding to the reasons not to work under these particular wires was the fact that on this swath there was not much distance beyond the wires to the tree line. Anyhow, as I dove in to make the pass, I thought I saw something different down around the power lines. As I got closer, I realized what it was. There must have been 100 big black buzzards that suddenly filled the air as I approached. Now, not wanting to fly into that dark cloud of birds, I stayed down low and quickly realized that it was now too late to pull up and over the large power lines. So I was now forced to force the airplane under some very low and very large cables. All I could do was put the wheels down in the cotton and hope for the best. If the tail was about 2 inches shorter, it would have fit. Ended up just knocking off the wire deflector on top of the vertical stab. Thats about as close as I have come to an accident because of birds.
 
This last weekend I attended a Rutan fly-in. I don't own one, but have been thinking about building one for years as a learning project with composites. I ran into a gentleman there who offered to get me on a demo flight previously, and this time offered to take me in his Long EZ.

During the flight he made several passes along the runway and several steep descents, high angle of attack turns, steep turns, etc. One of the passes was at right angles to the main runway, along a seldom used grass strip which up until then hadn't been used at all that day.

When we landed, I noticed that a very large number of black birds (Ravens) and some turkey vultures were circling just east of the ramp area. I believe they were probably disturbed by the passes on the unused runway, and took to the air...but we didn't see them until we were on the ground. I can only imagine but that they'd have done some significant damage if we'd come back for one more.
 
Posting less? You mean not posting at all unless you are arguing with another member? Seems to me that you fit your description perfectly. The typical jackass who has to prove his chest is bigger than all the rest. Your kind is the reason all the new meat shys away. God forbid a youthful pilot should disagree with your massive knowledge base and be right about it. Not to mention having a disagreement with your opinion. Geez! Don't want to do that now. Next time you bring "substance" to the table, we will let you talk.

"Talent"? HA! Every board is exactly the same. The same types of posters are present with the same material. You expect everyone to be professional, yet you act like an assbag every time you post. Professional? Go figure.

Actually, I am 27 went to ER (online) I did everything in my training old school. All I can say is that Avbug for the most part is right. He may not have the nicest ways of saying things sometimes. But I'm gonna have to say that 99.9999% of the time he is right. From what I have seen he has been through the fire, and I've been through about 5% of what he has and know that he is for the most part the type of person that I would want sitting next to me when the crap hit the fan. Of course, I think most of his accident prevention begins way before he gets in the airplane as does mine. I used to be one of those crazies, fog in SE, night time SE, night time SE IFR, he is right about that stuff. I'd keep him around because one of these days one thing he says might just save your own life. He is not trying to be a A***** just being safe.
 
#1 rule when attempting to move from new skool to olde school.........try not to give too many forum jobs unless you have an adequate suply of handi-wipes.
 
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Time to resurrect this thread again I think.

Here's one that'll be good for a laugh, and I know that at least some of the folks who participated in this one are regular readers and/or posters on here.

It was back in my Starchecking days. One of the instructor pilots was up for his upgrade checkride to be designated captain of a Lear 35. It was customary, or so I was told, that when an instructor went for jet upgrade it was the duty of the other instructors to mercilessly mess with him in the form of pranks. Said instructor was pretty high-strung and nervous over the checkride, and we all conspired to not only get him good but to calm him down with a good laugh as well.

While he was outside prepping the jet, the instructor giving him the checkride started getting everything set up. He got the chief pilot to page the captain candidate and call him into the chief's office, there to be distracted for the completion of phase two. He then rounded up all of the other instructors, the management pilots, and the night admin staff and had us pile into the back of the jet. He put up the vertical cargo net right behind the door and killed the cabin lights, effectively rendering everyone in the back invisible to the cockpit and the outside world.

After the appointed distraction time ran up, the pilot came out to the jet and found the instructor waiting for him in the doorway. The instructor said something along the lines of "hurry up, we need to get this done before the next hub" and hustled the pilot into the left seat. The completely oblivious pilot hopped in, strapped in, and started firing up the jet while the instructor hopped in and secured the door while trying not to laugh. We started rolling forward and made the right turn out of the parking spot towards the taxiway when the instructor gave the order to stop. He said something about the weight and balance not feeling right, and asked the pilot if he'd done the calculations. The pilot swore that he did, but the isntructor still insisted that the jet felt a little tail heavy.

It was at this point that the cargo net came down, the light came on, and everyone in the back of the jet yelled "SUPRISE!" The pilot certainly was suprised, and after sitting there in speechless shock staring at us for several seconds he finally bellowed "YOU RAT B@$TARDS!" and started laughing. We popped the door open and we all filed out of the jet, a scene somewhat akin to a car door opening and a dozen clowns tumbling out.

For the record, he passed the checkride but he took a ding for "situational awareness" for not noticing a dozen instructor pilots in the back of the jet. Last I heard, he was headed for Hong Kong to fly for Cathay Pacific.
 
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