TERMINAL VELOCITY ON A GRASS RUNWAY

By Clayton Davis

It was a beautiful summer morning in Baltimore as we walked around the airplane for the pre-flight inspection. I asked where we were flying today. The instructor said it was to Davis, West Virginia. Since it was a revenue flight, he would fly the leg outbound and put me in the left seat for the ride home and training.

I always want to know a little bit about where we are flying to, so I asked about Davis, West Virginia.

Instructors know almost everything, at least enough about their destination. Davis, West Virginia is 30 miles northeast of Elkins, West Virginia and is the highest elevation incorporated town in the state at 3200 feet above sea level.

"It must be a large town high in the mountains," I concluded.

"No. Not big," the instructor continued. "It’s a little place about three blocks long."

I wondered if it had an airport sufficient for a high-performance, modern airplane like the Piper Lance. However, I decided not to ask.

Davis began as a lumber town in the early 1900s amid dense stands of spruce and hardwoods.

"Trees all around?" I asked.

"Yes. Many trees," he said.

At a small grass airport near Davis, West Virginia is where I lived through a demonstration of terminal velocity. My definition of terminal velocity is when you can not go any faster no matter how hard you try. The event occurred in a Piper Lance and was totally unplanned.

Back then I often held my breath until we were climbing safely.

Preparing for takeoff, the instructor said, "Tighten your seat belt and call out airspeed on takeoff roll."

I was in the left seat. The airspeed indicator was on my side. He advanced the throttle and released brakes.

"30 knots," I reported.

"Come on, airplane," he said.

"35 knots."

"Faster," begged the instructor.

"40 knots."

"We’re getting there," he said.

"50 knots."

"Good old airplane," the instructor purred.

"55 knots."

"More," he begged.

"55," I reported.

"55," I reported again.

"Still 55," I said.

The Piper Lance stall speed is 61 knots. We never had a chance to get off the ground.

"Brace yourself," the instructor yelled abruptly and yanked way back on the controls.

"Slam!" We encountered a barbwire fence. They make excellent crash barriers.

"Zero airspeed," I said and let out my breath.

"Turn off the switches," The instructor commanded. "And get out of the airplane!" He may have used stronger language that I can’t translate in a family magazine.

The National Transportation Safety Board reported the aircraft suffered substantial damage. Nobody asked about my underwear.

You may review the NTSB accident report by clicking here NTSB REPORT OF ACCIDENT

The report says the takeoff was not aborted in time on a soggy field with grass six inches tall.

Contributing factors were humidity and temperature. It was a sultry 85 degrees Fahrenheit. Rain had fallen the night before.

Let’s review some facts about this wonderful flying machine. It seats 6-7. Gross weight is 3600 pounds with an empty weight of 2011 pounds. Fuel capacity is 98 gallons. A 300-hp Lycoming engine powers it. This enables it to leap off hard surface runways with great enthusiasm.

The Piper Lance is akin to the Piper Cherokee. It is actually a Cherokee Six with retractable gear. Piper Cherokees make splendid training airplanes, whereas the Cherokee Six works hard as a cargo-utility vehicle. The Piper Lance is even more elegant.

Takeoff distance in the Piper Lance is 1690 feet to clear a 50 foot obstacle. That is calculated at sea level on a hard surface runway during excellent weather conditions. We were trying to depart Harman Swecker airport near Davis, West Virginia. It is a 2450 feet turf runway at 3220 feet elevation in a valley with mountains all around it. Some are above 4000 feet.

The runway was oriented southwest and northeast down in a valley. Many airports in the Appalachian Mountains are positioned in this direction to parallel the ridges. The wind was calm and we chose to depart southwest. The mountains looked more friendly in that direction.

Just beyond the fence was a house and barn. It is scary to think what would have happened to the poor barn if the barbwire fence had not stopped us.

I was training for my first job as a Commercial Pilot. Today I know much more about density altitude, runway requirements, and field conditions.

The company at Baltimore-Washington International Airport that owned the airplane used Piper Lances for small packages and freight. Large doors on the left side enable oversize cargo to be slid into the airplane. Sometimes that cargo is a casket.

The day of our accident we had delivered a casket and remains to Harman Swecker airport near Davis, West Virginia for burial in the hometown cemetery. Some people who migrate to big cities prefer to be buried in the neighborhood of their childhood.

Back at Baltimore Airport notification of our mishap spread quickly. One rumor was difficult to live down. It had been initially reported that the crew was safe and they had removed the dead body before the accident. That casket was heavy.

When you start out to build time and gain flying experience you will very often have to fly anything, anywhere, anytime. That’s the nature of the industry.

All heroes must pay their dues I’m told.

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