Dax949
Member
I was getting ready to leave the airport one morning and had completed the preparations and checklist. Denny, the proprietor there at the little grass strip hollered at me, "Where're you off to tonight?"
"Oh, not far. Thought I'd run over to Muncie and get in a few night landings for the logbook."
"Okay, then. See ya later."
And with that I closed the door and buckled up in my old Stinson, taxied out and took off for the controlled field over at Muncie (Indiana). The climb out went fine and I turned out of pattern, switched off the landing lights and took it up to 3,000. There's something odd about night flying; especially in an old airplane because you tend to tune in and listen to all the sounds that normally aren't any concern in the daylight. You hear the wind whistle through the struts outside and you hear noises in the engine that don't sound familiar to you otherwise. Just a little bit of precaution and a little more tense on the controls as you analyze the vibrations, clickety-clicks and rumbles in the dark of night.
And then about that time ... BLAM!!! and there was a loud explosion! The kind that makes you feel all alone in the world! Engine still running. Feels okay. A scan of the panel ... the gauges all look okay - normal. After a few more minutes of checking for abnormalities and finding nothing amiss I tipped the old Stinson over to the left, pressed the left rudder to keep the Turn & Bank centered, leaned back a tad on the yoke to maintain and initiated a 180 degree turn back to Windfall.
As I taxied up to the Big Hangar and shut it down, Denny shouted, "Hey? What're you doin' back here? Thought you wuz goin' ta Muncie?"
We brought out some lights and began going over the airframe, looking for anything amiss and about that time Denny shouted, "Oh, Hell. You just hit a bird!"
Sure enough, there was blood and guts and feathers all down the backside of the fuselage. Not much left, but he sure made a loud bang! Lemme tell you a bird strike at night will get your attention!
"Oh, not far. Thought I'd run over to Muncie and get in a few night landings for the logbook."
"Okay, then. See ya later."
And with that I closed the door and buckled up in my old Stinson, taxied out and took off for the controlled field over at Muncie (Indiana). The climb out went fine and I turned out of pattern, switched off the landing lights and took it up to 3,000. There's something odd about night flying; especially in an old airplane because you tend to tune in and listen to all the sounds that normally aren't any concern in the daylight. You hear the wind whistle through the struts outside and you hear noises in the engine that don't sound familiar to you otherwise. Just a little bit of precaution and a little more tense on the controls as you analyze the vibrations, clickety-clicks and rumbles in the dark of night.
1947 Stinson 108 "Voyager" circa 1965 at Windfall Airport
And then about that time ... BLAM!!! and there was a loud explosion! The kind that makes you feel all alone in the world! Engine still running. Feels okay. A scan of the panel ... the gauges all look okay - normal. After a few more minutes of checking for abnormalities and finding nothing amiss I tipped the old Stinson over to the left, pressed the left rudder to keep the Turn & Bank centered, leaned back a tad on the yoke to maintain and initiated a 180 degree turn back to Windfall.
As I taxied up to the Big Hangar and shut it down, Denny shouted, "Hey? What're you doin' back here? Thought you wuz goin' ta Muncie?"
We brought out some lights and began going over the airframe, looking for anything amiss and about that time Denny shouted, "Oh, Hell. You just hit a bird!"
Sure enough, there was blood and guts and feathers all down the backside of the fuselage. Not much left, but he sure made a loud bang! Lemme tell you a bird strike at night will get your attention!