Exercise Whooper Finn Field Report No. 6

Our arrival at Bardstown in the pleasant Kentucky evening sunshine was greeted by the
happy news that Larry Berne, the Learjet Pilot was well on the mend and had already
returned to flying duties. He returned later to show us the staples and bandages still in
place.

We shared a few convivial beers that evening and enjoyed the company of Johann, the
new co-pilot, who became very tired and emotional as the evening wore on. Larry was
fortified by shot of Tennessee moonshine as local anaesthetic and Johann did excellent
work as Nurse in removing the surgical staples from Larry's arm. This was at Larry's
insistence, as he had been unable to get to the hospital due to his busy flying schedule.

The following morning, I took Larry for a celebration flight in the Quantum 912 and he
was mightily impressed. My motives were not entirely altruistic - fair is fair- so a
return flight in the a Learjet was in order. Larry took the entire team for a short flight
which they reported was better than any of the rollercoasters in Florida. I now know
what I would spend a modest lottery win on! It was simply awesome what a god pilot
can do with one of those aircraft. The flight lasted about 20 minutes and he put it
through its paces with a low level flypast and some fast manoeuvres. I was sitting just
behind the pilots and it looked just like the approach from the Quantum played at
VERY Fast Forward! A truly unforgettable flight with a very smooth and professional
pilot.

Time was now pressing, we needed to make it back to Rob Rollison's place at
Bloomfield so that Martin could be taken back to Chicago and Steve, his replacement,
be picked up. The flight back was uneventful and the changeover took place without a
hitch the following day. Martin was sad to leave, despite the teasing from the
groundcrew about his inability to turn brown in the sun. I hope the rest of the British
Summer gives him an opportunity to fly some more, but it appears he will have to
work unprotected in the core of a nuclear reactor if he is to pick up sufficient radiation
to tan!

Steve seemed to have brought bad weather with him and we were pinned down at
Rob's for 5Ø days before we could fly again. There was a succession of weather fronts
with light rain or windy conditions. We drove over to look at the Muscatatuk Wildlife
Refuge and were given a conducted tour of the real estate by Mike Oliver to find
suitable landing sites for landing the cranes and the ultralights. This was a marvellous
wildlife setting and we saw deer, squirrels, geese, herons and wild turkey in the short
drive around. Wayne Bezner, flew a group of trumpeter swans into here last December
with an ultralight from Ontario, so the management were familiar with the concept.
The swans stayed around the refuge over the Winter and appear to have flown North in
the past few weeks.

Jimmy was in the wars again. This time he accidentally headbutted a chrome fixture in
a swimming pool and split his forehead open. Fortunately, good first aid was at hand
and suitable bandages were applied but we were concerned he might need stitches.
Thus, our second brush with the American medical system and our first direct contact
occurred. First question was what method of payment? The doctor wouldn't look at the
cut until the emergency room was available. When it became available, he told Jimmy
to clean it and redress the cut next day. He didn't even take the bandage off to inspect
it!
We thought the bill would be the minimum $60 charge, but the eventual bill came to
$159, $70 for the doctor and $89 for the emergency room!

Wednesday night brought a spectacular thunderstorm. I sat up and watched it until 1
a.m. The quality of the lightning in mid continental storms has got to be seen to be
believed. It was like the Hollywood special effects departments were putting on a
spectacular 3-D rerun of Independence Day. For most of the time there was no sound
except the distant rumble of thunder but the sky was lit almost continuously by the
speed of the flashes. The fireflies were flashing like airborne LEDs in answer to the
lightning. One cloud flashed a long vein to another which took half a second to travel
the sky. A similar return vein answered this initial flash. A powerful flash to the
ground lit another part of the sky and so it went on for most of the night. The rain
when it came was like a fire hose turned on at full blast. Three inches of rain fell in
two hours. However, the following day the weather improved sufficiently to allow an
evening flight and Steve got to fly for the first time.

We observed the muddy brown rivers that criss-cross and snake across this area were
even fuller than usual. The White River flows to the East of the airfield. It must be
named after the person who discovered it, because it flows more like chocolate than
water. No wonder then, that catfish are numerous here as they use their whiskers to
sense their way around and find food.

Finally, we headed North towards the Chicago area. We visited another wildlife
refuge, the Jasper-Pulaski Fish and Wildlife Area, where Sandhill Cranes gather in
Autumn for their flight South. Over 30,000 cranes have been seen here feeding and
roosting and they are a major local attraction for visitors to the viewing areas. Jim
Bergens , the manager, escorted us around the most suitable landing sites and we found
an excellent spot in the middle of the best roosting and feeding areas.

We landed close to the wildlife area at a small strip owned by the 'Blooming Idiots',
Mike and Don Capouch. Mike is a real crane 'nut' and is enthusiastic about what we
are doing. They run a small flower growing business (hence the name) and crop dust in
the Summer.
The airstrip is called Tatertown, a reference to the potato growing which used to be
prevalent in this area, but after a slump in the market and everyone went bust they only
grow soya beans and corn now. We sat out the heat and wind of the day waiting for
conditions to improve. Rose Capouch made us delicious Strawberry Shortcake and Joe,
her son, explained the intricacies of baseball. At least now I understand some of what is
going on.

We left Tatertown en route for a field called St George and overflew Club Bare, a fly-
in nudist colony. No one was visible from 2,500 feet, but the heart shaped lake at the
centre of the collection of log cabins in the woods looked cute. I guess the mosquitoes
have a field day some evenings!

The sky darkened a little, but conditions were warm and progress was god. I was
sharply awakened by what felt like an angry wasp trapped in my left headset ear
defender. I got 'stung' several times and lifted my headset to allow the air to flow in
and flush the intruder out. I put my finger in to help in the process only to stung by an
electric shock. What was happening? Steve disconnected my headset although he wasn't
being shocked. Was this a fault with the intercom or the radio? I touched the metal on
the control bar and got a powerful shock! The wing had built up a big static charge and
was discharging through me to the trike. There was a brilliant flash of sheet lightning
and this was our cue to land at the earliest opportunity. St George was only a mile or so
away, and as we approached it looked like a friendly, well kept place. I landed and
taxied to the open hangar as the lightning intensified and a few drops of rain fell. The
occupants of a mobile home and a two storey house who seemed somewhat strange at
first sight, ignored out approach and landing. As the lightning flashed, sparks danced
down the flying wires of the parked wing like St Elmo's fire. It would appear that the
nylon roll bearing insulates the wing from the trike and will discharge through the pilot
when the charge gets sufficiently high. This will be something that Pegasus will have to
investigate, as I am sure this will happen again. It was disconcerting to say the least.

Our troubles were not over as we realised quickly that we were trapped by the weather
and the locals were lunatics. The woman was a self-confessed crack cocaine addict.
The man, her sister's boyfriend, was on his fourth six pack of beer. They were having
a violent argument, which was uninterrupted by our presence. He attached himself to
us and proceeded to tell us that he was Jesus, 007, and knew the last three presidents
personally. He had been in jail for robbery and DUI (driving under the influence). We
telephoned the groundcrew to arrange a rendezvous but were unable to warn them of
our predicament. We were forced to camp there due to the weather and the fading
light. We viewed our predicament with increasing concern, as although this man was
drunk he had a violent undertone and variously threatened to shoot us all and himself.
It was probably the drink talking, but in a land where guns are freely available, and this
man was volatile, it was best not to take chances. Steve employed all of his RAF
training and honed counselling skills to keep him occupied. It was like camping next to
an unexploded bomb. We couldn't sleep and at sunrise made our departure -
unannounced. This airstrip was crossed off the potential stopover list. Apparently, it
had been sold off to someone local who maintains it, but we were glad to be gone from
this twilight zone, more like a plot from a Steven King novel, than a flight into Illinois.

Our plans altered daily due to the weather. The Great Lakes region is subject to a large
number of storms and the weather is difficult to predict. We are close to completing the
research phase, but it is a battle with the weather every step and we have to be
cautious.

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