Clayton Fisher's Greatest Adventures - Part Two

"Me and My Chinook Plus 2"
by Clayton Fisher

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Okay mama, the time is right. Hay is in the barn, pea patch isn’t ready yet, honeydews are all done (temporarily) – good open weather coming up. I’m going flying!!! I’ve been wanting to take my Chinook out for a good long cross country for some time now. I have procrastinated enough that my wife has been making chicken clucking sounds at me whenever the subject comes up. With 140 hours on her (the Chinook), mostly circles close to home, I’m ready to try a little of the “camping under the wing” I’ve heard so much about – sort of a trial run for flying to Alaska some summer.

Therefore on August 30, 2004, I took off from my patch in Wayne, Oklahoma and climbed out SE bound with a rosy pink dawn in my left open door. All I needed was a good stereo sound of some Spanish Flamingo in the headset – maybe Audalucia off the River Dance CD to complete the spirit of Adventure. I haven’t figured out how to do that yet though. I’d just have to settle for the whir of the 67” GSC prop behind the Rotax 582. With the rear stick removed and a plywood platform in front of the rear seat, covering the center tube and control cables, there was plenty of room for the following: 

• Tie down rope and stakes wrapped in a bright orange Poncho
• A tent and sleeping bag
• A can of Dintymoore beef stew, cans of sardine (packed in oil-don’t you know) some Spam (no need for a feller to starve hisself) 
• A gallon of drinking water
• 5 gallons of extra gas
• A gallon of Quicksilver Premium Plus 2 Cycle oil for the 582
• My .357 – 6 shooter
• My Cannon Rebel 2000 (camera) with a couple extra rolls of 400/24 Exp film
• Hot Dawg Oklahoma, here I come!!!!

A 60 mile hop and a short stop at a small unattended but paved and beautiful runway on the north shore of Lake Texoma – at the edge of the Tishomingo National Wildlife and Public hunting area kicked my trip off in good shape. As I departed, I circled the area a couple of times to check it out for future hunting or fishing trips. Then it was north to fuel up at the Seminole, Oklahoma then north again to top off with fuel and eat a bite at Cushing, Oklahoma (at one time a huge terminal for Oklahoma’s early oil industry). Still a nice runway with fuel and a courtesy car. I felt right at home but the itch to fly on before the mid day heat set in overcame me so I boogied on. It was early afternoon when I landed at the Pawhuska, OK runway just south of the Tall Grass Prairie Preserve, a 39,000 acre holding of the Nature Conservancy. I decided to pull off the runway and do a little napping under the wing until about 6:00 p.m. (my self designated evening flying time for late summer). I don’t enjoy flying in hot, bumpy air. Me and my Chinook can do it if we have to but it ain’t no fun so I avoid it when possible.

After intermittently dozing, smashing the occasional ant that found its way up my britches leg and watching the buzzards checking me out from above; I resumed a short flight across Bluestem Lake and out over a giant tract of grassland. A grass fire smoke plume in the distance reminded me that once upon a time fire and grazing by immerse herds of buffalo had created what I saw before me; and that the Nature conservancy folks were trying to re-create these conditions as best they could. Flying dream like at 100 feet AGL, the vastness was overwhelming and the visibility out my Chinook with the doors off really showed off the scenery. Come to mind what the Osage and Pawnee must have known when they were in charge. Soon I spotted some brown specks in the grass on the side of a draw. About 150 buffalo lay in the Bluestem but were heads up as I approached. 

Not wanting to get too close, I banked around them getting a few shots off as I circled, just to prove I had really done this. Realizing that I actually had goose bumps and not quite believing what I have just been privileged to witness, I pushed in a little power and climbed into the sun westbound toward Kaw Lake and the Poncacity, Oklahoma airport. A beautiful calm evening it was no trick to grease a landing there. Adjacent to the airport is a nice restaurant, which was, when I was there, busy, with folks waiting for a table. Since I figured I probably reeked of sweat and gasoline by that time in the day, I did not linger, but took the time to do a good walk-a-round, midflight, look in over the plane. She’s doing good!

I took off and continued on to Medford, Oklahoma where I planned to spend my 1st night. At sundown, I landed, taxied up to a hangar and was greeted by Mike Newman, Airport Manager, airplane mechanic, salesman and a darn good submarine sandwich designer. I decided to pull out on the grass and do the tent deal. Had a good day, no trouble - 319 miles of light wind at my back. Time to rest – think the day over.

Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Won’t you let me go down in my dreams
And Rock-a-bye Sweet Baby Jane.

James Taylor

Next morning I was up at sunrise. Noticed the wind soc was already swinging to and fro in a south breeze. I got ready for a different kind of day. I was reminded that here on the edge of the high plains, not only do we have a wind gradient from ground level to higher altitudes, but the wind most always increases from east to west. Also another problem I was looming up on just west of Medford was the 10 mile wide alert area of Klegman A.F.B. controlled by Vance A.F.B. about 30 miles south of Medford. I got a radio frequency off the sectional. Mike gave me a couple more and off I went. I have a Comtronics IC-AZZ handheld transceiver plugged into 12 volts with a push to talk patch cord, working through a 9 volt powered IC-101 intercom box. With a RA-101 remote antenna the system is a receiving son of a gun. I can regularly hear 100 miles away, but can talk only about 35-40 miles out, with good conditions. I could hear Vance control but they must have had me squelched out cause I couldn’t raise them. So, I climbed to 4500 MSL, a good westbound altitude and flew on with fingers crossed. As I approached, I could see little jets below me in the pattern shooting landings. I hoped that my bright green and orange Chinook would be visible should they decide to slip a few surly looks my way. 

Well, I got through okay and as I relaxed I was aware of the Great Salt Plains and Lake just ahead of me. Down I went to have a look. 

Got a dynamite shot as I spiraled down to set up to fly low and slow across some very unusual country side. Could have sworn I was approaching some white sand beach and meandering inflow wetland branch down on the Gulf of Mexico. I flew over a couple of mule deer and a coyote as I dropped down to fly 20 feet off the salt. What a thrill to fly for 10 miles, just off the shimmering earth. The morning air was so cool and clean that 4200 RPM flew me along in the ground effect at 45 MPH. No roads, no 4 wheeler tracks, no power lines - just pure white salt below, pure blue sky above. Since salt and aluminum don’t mix I did not land, though it was tempting. 

The thin crust of salt was gathered by the wagon load by early settlers for use in seasoning, saltlicks for livestock, and preservation of meat.

Today, many visitors come to dig for selenite crystals in specific locations on the south side of the flats. 

My next stop was Alva, Oklahoma where they topped me off with fuel and treated me real good to boot. I would try to make Lavern, Oklahoma before midday. I was expecting 90 that afternoon. I was crabbing pretty good to fly west so I knew I would shut down and let the hot wind blow the midday thermals around. Leaving Lavern around 6:00 should give me time to get to my daughter and son in law, and grandkids by sundown.

At Lavern, twern’t nobody around. An Ag Cat set in a hangar - the pilot lounge was open with a good supply of magazines to help kill time. Soon a local fellow, last name Duvall (sorry hoss, I can’t remember your 1st) showed up to look at my bird. He took me to town to get gas which I greatly appreciated. I rested till 6:00 then took off west again into a rapidly shrinking sun. I figured I could make Beaver, Oklahoma 35 miles away - land there and see if I could make it another 60 miles or so to the grandkids before dark. I cranked in a few more RPM’s to increase my air speed to 70 mph.

I flew low up the Beaver River, under the wind, across sparsely settled ranch land. I could see the rolling sage covered sand dunes on the north side of the river and the hard land draws and coulees branching into the river from the south. I hoped I wouldn’t have to pick an emergency landing spot. But I knew that I was in the toughest little plane of its type in case I had to land in Badlands. The numbers on my instrument panel were all good, and the 582 was purring like a cat full of canaries at 5000 PRM so on I flew. 

I waved at a rancher in a pickup truck - he had stopped to open a gate - he waved back. And on I flew. I love to fly low across wild country. I just can’t help it. I know I’m getting on in years and all that goes with that, but so far so good. And on I flew. 

I have faced that cunning enemy called time
For a while I held him cold and to a draw
But as he rode away, he said another place and day
Cause you can’t erase the writing on the wall
Although this one was just too close to call

Waylon Jennings

When I landed at Beaver, I taxied and stopped on the unattended runway. In front of me was a 2 foot Prairie Rattler making his slithery way across. I got the 1st few shots off with my camera, then, after checking my background of empty pasture, the last shot with my 357.

I cut his rattler off for a souvenir. I taxied back down to the pilot lounge, and found a working telephone, a credit card call to my daughter let her know I was on my way, but if I couldn’t make it by dark I would find a flat spot in a pasture or wheat field, spend another night under my wing and see them in the morning. The sun was getting lower. By this time in the evening, the wind was laying and flying higher was getting good. After I flew past Guymon, Oklahoma, I could see Helms Nursery and Farmstead in the distance. The sun had set as I landed in fading daylight in a field behind the house. I slept in a bed that night, I had flown 213 miles that day across no man’s land. I had taken a couple of great pics - all in all a terrific day.

Next morning, I was up before daylight – preflighting – anticipating the day. Reminded me of another Waylon Jennings song.

Howl you lone coyote song paint the saphire sky at dawn
Count me as a lucky man to send the world around.

Old Church Hymns and Nursery Rhymes

As I took off and climbed out I was almost immediately crabbing 30, though the wind was laminar with no turbulence. I went back down to 100 feet off the Panhandle farmland and held 135 by flying diagonally across the sections, which are all layed off square to the world. 135 turned out to be a bit too far South, as I flew into Texas I was too far south of Palo Duro Lake, a main landmark. Even though I corrected a bit north, I hit the South Canadian River, west of Canadian, TX. I flew into the morning sun down the river to the Canadian airport. There, I borrowed the courtesy car and went for fuel. Then I was on my way again toward Clinton, OK.

As I flew east, the wind was becoming less of a problem at higher altitudes. However, after a short lunch stop at Clinton, cumuli were beginning to form and the air was getting rough. At 2:00 in the afternoon, I landed at Chickasha, Oklahoma, glad to be on the ground. A cold soft drink, a nap, and some folks to swap flying stories with made my 6:00 flying time come quickly. I finished my trip with a 35 mile hop to home just in time for supper and a hug from the best wife a man ever had. 

I had flown 272 miles that day, for a straight line trip total of 804 miles. I averaged about 50 mph – got about 18 mpg on fuel – all this including warm up time and taxi time – time in the patterns and circling around. I was so proud of myself and my Chinook, the president’s overcoat wouldn’t have made me a vest. And what made this cross-country flight so jump back special is that I built the airplane. Working part time during the winter of 02-03 weather permitting in an unheated shop, I actually assembled a Chinook Plus II kit from the detailed plans and quality parts provided by A.S.A.P. Being a 1st time builder, I ran into a few problems along the way. But a phone call and a little help from someone at the factory would always set me back on the right track. Although a challenge for me, it was one of the greatest achievements of my life!

So now – yep! I’m ready for Alaska some summer. Gonna fly to the land of magic and mystery – up the Alcan to some real good country. Got to get to planning the Big One. Gonna need a GPS for ground speed. Oh year! Got to make room for a fold up chair and a small table – and a fishing pole for sure - and oh yeah! more Spam – and……

Man means nothing, he means less to me
Than the lowest cactus flower or the humblest yucca tree
He chases round this desert, cause he thinks that’s where I’ll be.
That’s why I love mankind

From God’s song By Randy Newman

Clayton and Susan Fisher with the Chinook Plus 2

Clayton Fisher's Greatest Adventures - Part Three..>>