A Good Lesson

I recently had a great experience with the CASARA folks, who were looking for someone to get lost. Since that has happened without me even trying, I may as well have my cake and eat it too. Last Saturday, I left Indus field with my outriders Dan and Pat. We headed for Rockyford International and were able to find it with no real trouble. We all landed on a very rough field and stopped briefly to talk about the flight and to finalize all things for the day’s activities. The whole time, I had been in contact with Warren, who was today’s CASARA coordinator. He included e-mails, phone calls, flight dispatch, and all things necessary for a great event. The e-mails really had all the group’s attention, and many of them had to be reminded that this was a drill. Well, it was getting cold and the wind was picking up, so the outriders headed for home, leaving me there on the ground waiting for rescue.

I had packed sandwiches, chocolates, a lawn chair, and root beer. Did I mention that it was cold? So I started with my first line of defense, a big orange plastic tarp covering me in my lawn chair. I was still cold, so I had a new idea… I’ll start a fire. One thing about living and flying on the bald prairie is that there are no dead trees close at hand. However, I did see a junk pile nearby (500 yds. away). So off I went, trying to recall all of the tips from Survivorman that I have seen over the course of flipping through the channels.

I found that dragging a large tree branch was an efficient way of getting all things needed for a good, long-lasting fire. This included twigs and dry grass to start and trunks to keep the fire ongoing. Since I had no axe, I resorted to striking smaller branches on larger ones. Those that I could not break I had the fire burn through and then break up into smaller pieces. Before you say “way to go,” I managed to lose a bunch of skin and just about took my eye out. It’s amazing what one small match and a full cup of gasoline can do. Ahh… this is the life: a warm fire and a plane in the background. I celebrated by breaking out the frozen hot dogs I brought to keep the root beer cold and cooking them on the fire.

Warren had told me the descriptions of the planes that were looking for me. I was keenly aware of every noise that made its way to my senses. Each time I saw a plane overhead, out came the diesel fuel and another plume of black smoke. All in all, 16 planes flew over, but only two made contact with me. It was an emotional experience since I was anxious to be found, and yet time was slipping by. I was anxious because the winds were stronger, the temperature was rising, and I hate turbulence. I did feel a fraction of the emotions of what a lost pilot must feel, and it can make you desperate and frustrated. Three planes were looking for me, two had flown over, and the third was due soon. The wind was coming up, I was due back in town, and I wanted out. I am very glad that this all came out since we all have the tendency to imagine what if. I am glad to say the program works, and the whole day was a big eye-opener for many of us that participated.

Thanks to Warren for a memorable day.

Wishing You Tail Winds, No Bumps, and Fire-Roasted Hot Dogs