"Chanute Unicom, Turbo Arrow N6388C."

Some guy came over in the background.  Van and I were in the FBO shootin' the breeze and gettin' ready to go over some questions for my oral exam.

"Chanute Unicom, Turbo Arrow N6388C."

Unicom is a frequency used by pilots to communicate with other traffic but also with a person on the ground at a non-towered airport.  He might be asking for the weather, asking to see if a car is available, asking about gas, etc.  A person on the ground can usually give him that information if he is around and hears the radio call.

Well, Van gets up to see what the guy wants...

"Chanute Unicom, go ahead."

"Turbo Arrow N6388C, I have just hit something, and I don't know how bad the damage is.  Unknown what I hit, I need someone to inspect the landing gear on the right side.  Low approach Runway 36."  The nervous excitement was more than obvious in his voice.

WHAT?!!!  Had I just heard what I thought I heard?!

Before I knew it, I was running out the door.  I hollered at Van to let him know I was goin' to the runway, and Van stayed to man the frequency.  Once out the door, I saw the aircraft on left downwind for Runway 36.

This is crazy!!!

I walked across most of the ramp, then ran across the rest of it and the runway to get myself positioned in time.  I saw the airplane turn the base leg and then final and line himself up with the runway.  A "low approach" means just that...he will overfly the field but not land.

Well, he kept it about 50-75 feet off of the ground, comin' right at me.  I had positioned myself just off the right side of Runway 36 to get a good look.  He flew down the length of the runway, quickly approaching me.  Then he flew right next to me.  I never did focus on the pilot or see him for that matter.  I was strictly looking at the right side of the plane and the gear.

All three wheels were down and most importantly locked into place (he had retractable gear).  No sideways wheels or partial extensions or anything.  That's good.  As soon as he buzzed me, he did a climbing turn to enter the pattern again.  In order to let the pilot know as soon as possible, I called Van from the runway and let him know that the gear looked fine.  He should be good for a landing.  Van passed that on to the pilot but mentioned that he was on three different phones at that time...hmm.

Well, I watched the plane come back around, then line back up with the runway.  How nervous he must be!  He came down, hovered over the runway, then touched down.  Landing gear was solid.  No problems.  That's a relief for all of us!  He then taxied up to the FBO.

By this time, we had a couple of ambulances and a police car on scene at the airport, with other sirens blaring in the distance.  Not knowing the exact circumstances, Van had gotten a head-start just in case we had a less-than-desirable landing.  You just never know.

The guy taxis to a stop, and the damage is kind of hard to miss!

His right wing has a gaping hole in it.  Right on the leading edge of the wing.  Right in the middle.  Wow.  The pilot gets out, and he's obviously relieved to be on the ground.  After a closer inspection, we see exactly what has happened.

The dead give-away?  (no pun intended).  A feather is stuck to the badly-bent metal.  He has hit a bird at well over 100 mph.  And the damage was substantial to the wing.

"I didn't know what was goin' on.  I knew I hit something, and my first thought was another airplane, so I immediately bank it hard to the left.  That's when I look over and see the hole in my wing.  And I just didn't know how bad it was, or even still what I had hit..."  Straight from the pilot's mouth.

It had just happened about 10 miles away.  So he radioes in to us shortly thereafter, and that's where it all began.  After further inspection, we see that we are going to have some more hard evidence.  With the help of a flashlight, we notice that the bird is indeed still inside the wing.  How about that.  It was too difficult to get to at the time, but we would know for sure what exactly had caused the damage.

And by this time, the good ol' heart o' Chanute shines through yet again.  A couple of older gentlemen were on scene already.  How do they do it?!  Well, in good ol' fashion, they had heard the call go over the scanner.  Something like this doesn't exactly happen everyday in this town, so they just had to come take a look!  I love it!  As one of the guys put it, "I have lived 77 years, and I have never seen something like this..."  So true, so true.  (And he used to work out here!)  And frankly, my guess is that this is probably the last time that I will have such an opportunity to be the eyes on the runway, too...who knows.

Never a dull moment in Chanute, that's for sure!!!

Well, the day goes on.  All in all, a pretty good day.  I had gone out for Mexican with Alan, Van, and Jacob earlier in the day.  And after the incident, Van and I got around to a few oral exam questions.  And then late in the afternoon, we take the Cherokee up for some flying.  It had been eight days since I had last flown in her!  Eight days!!!

We did the VOR/DME-A Approach to Chanute, and we spent the entire time focusing on the holding pattern, procedure turn, and inbound for the landing.  All in all a good and necessary lesson.  I am a bit weak in my holding pattern procedures, but today something clicked, and it makes so much more sense now.  Just have to rely on the timer and do the standard-rate turns.  That's just about all there is!  Well, there is a lot more, too...but those were the parts that I wasn't tight on...it's nice when it all comes together.  It works so much easier that way!

Then this evening, I asked Alan (the owner) if he had taken the bird out yet.  No way, he said.  There is no way he is touching that thing!  Here I have a farmer, a tough guy, a man who can hold his own...and he won't touch a dead bird!  So I gladly volunteer.

So he and I head out to the hangar, and he pulls back the bent metal while I stick my hand back into the darkness.  I feel a feather, grab it, and then pull out.  And there she be.  A nice big hawk.  Well, sort of big.  After closer inspection, we found out that she was missing quite a bit.  Namely her two wings and all of her insides.  Well, except for her heart and a couple of stringy pieces which I pulled out next.  And let me tell you, that heart was a bit of a surprise, I'm not goin' to lie!  I just stuck my hand into the wing, felt around for a bit, felt something squishy, then pulled out.  I think it surprised all of us.  And I thought Alan was goin' to puke right before my very eyes.  Especially after he got a whiff of the smell!!!

A pretty memorable day, that's for sure.  And it all ended well, too.  Of course, as pilots, we don't have total control over everything that happens up there.  We do our best to stay clear of every obstacle, birds included, but some things you just can't control.  And the truth of the matter is, people have in fact died from bird strikes to airplanes.  It could've hit the windshield, nailed the pilot, caused more damage, hit a different piece, and on and on and on.  So this guy was grateful, and, of course, we were happy for him, too.

Does it make me scared to fly?  Not at all.  No different than hittin' a deer or another car on a road.  You just can't control other people or objects sometimes.  Shoot, life is a walk in the unknown.

But it was a neat lesson in a couple of things...first in the ever-importance of steering clear of such birds.  Jarryd, Van, and I have a joke about "migratory waterfowl" (we love the FAA's way of sayin' "goose"), and when we fly, we see birds all of the time.  Vultures, geese, and everything in between.  Some airports even publish caution around the vicinity because of such creatures.  So we are well aware of the hazard.

But second, I was impressed with the wing structure, too.  A bird had just obliterated this part of the wing, even going all the way through.  Yet the plane still flew, and the pilot was able to land safely.  That's encouraging in terms of structural safety.  That's what I always hear, no matter what happens, too.  Whether bird-strike or engine failure to lost visibility..."Just fly the airplane."

So at the end of the day, we pilots fly to the best of our abilities.  And we make sure we learn something new every day.  But as with the rest of life, we don't and can't control much of what takes place.  We can't determine where the bird flies, we can't determine where the deer crosses, we can't determine when the tire will blow, where the flood will come, where the tornado will hit, or when the van will stop.

We can only fly.  And fly well.  And know that tomorrow is never promised.

Was I afraid to get into the airplane this afternoon?  Not one bit.  Actually, the previous incident never even crossed my mind until writing this blog tonight.  And actually, one of my "pasttimes," is reading the NTSB's aviation accident reports.  Accidents happen every day.  Some are readily avoidable, others are not.  Shoot, in February alone, Kansas had three fatal aviation accidents.  So I use it as a teaching tool.  Some accidents are by student pilots, some by pilots with thousands of hours.  Some in low visibility, others in perfect VFR conditions.  Some from pilot error, some from structural error.

Perhaps it's the beauty and irony of life.  You just never know when you're done here on earth.

As for me?  I'm goin' to strive to be a great pilot today.  And if tomorrow never comes, well, I don't have much say over that.  I can only be responsible for today.  And what I do today, I will try to do well...

(But I think I shall take up bird-hunting in the next couple of weeks...)