I was flying across Lower Michigan above a solid overcast at 5000 feet. A nearby VFR plane at 5500 asked for lower. Great Lakes approach questioned if he was able maintain VFR during his descent.
He claimed that a hole had just opened up and that he was able to spiral down. Great Lakes Approach replied, “I think you’re fibbing but descent approved.”
—Eric Johnson, Flushing, Michigan
From our eastbound flight recently:
Chicago center: “Jet Share 123, cleared direct LARVA.”
Jet Share 123 (female voice): “Eww, gross!! OK…Jet Share 123…cleared direct LARVA.”
Unidentified male voice: “Don’t judge!”
(For the record, both of us had the same immediate response as the Jet Share pilot.)
—Daniel Sternbergh, Palo Alto, California
A reader requested we rerun this OTA from years ago. Enjoy. —Editor
A few years ago, we were flying in to Harris Ranch, a small private airstrip in the central San Joaquin Valley, California. Pilots like the great steak at the adjacent restaurant. We flipped to the CTAF about 10 miles out and heard another pilot—who happened to have a heavy accent—already talking on the frequency. His was the only voice.
Mystery pilot “…turning base, Harris Ranch. No smoking light has been turned on. Check passenger seat belts. Gear down? Check. Flaps? Check. Lights? Check.”
Without interruption, he cleared himself to land, then began calling out airspeeds and altitudes to himself as he descended. We couldn’t get a word in over the CTAF at Harris Ranch. The airspeeds were quite high, over 160 knots. We wondered what kind of plane it might be.
Then he said, “Clear of the active. Caution wake turbulence. Contact ground, point niner.” We looked at each other in disbelief.
When we landed and taxied up, the only plane on the ground was a Cessna 150. Its lone pilot, a young Asian man, perhaps 19 years old, was leaning casually against the door smoking a cigarette.
Maybe he’s now flying for JAL. Who knows?
—Crista Worthy, Los Angeles, California
I love reading IFR magazine, and wanted to share this exchange I recently had.
Greensboro Tower: “Angel Flight 9876, turn left heading 190. Cleared for takeoff 23L.”
Me: “Left 190, cleared for takeoff, Angel Flight 9876.”
I had a normal handoff to Departure.
Upon checking-in with departure:
Greensboro Departure: “Angel Flight 9876, a rookie controller gave you a left turn. I need you to make a right turn. Cleared direct Lynchburg.”
—Philip Rash, Durham, North Carolina
There’s a presumably fictitious ad that’s been making the rounds on the Internet. Someone is selling a highly desirable high-performance airplane at an attractive price, saying, “Need to sell ASAP to maintain domestic tranquility after completing the recent purchase without proper spousal consent. Apparently, ‘Do whatever the #$^& you want’ doesn’t mean what I thought.”
—Barry McCollom, Kerrville, Texas
Flying cancelled checks one night in the late 70s I heard the following conversation.
A freight operator was flying car parts to Detroit. The pilot asked the Memphis Center controller if he had time to make a call for him. This pilot probably flew this route every weekday night and the controllers apparently “knew” him and said sure. The pilot gave the controller a number to call and to tell Cathy that he’d be landing in St. Louis at such-and-such a time.
A few minutes later Memphis Center told the pilot he got his call through.
A few moments later Center told an airliner to change frequency. The airline pilot replied with the frequency change and added, “And thanks for the addition to my little black book.”
—Mark Scardino, Alabaster, Alabama
We have enough, but just enough. Please send us your cleverest or most embarrassing moment on the radio—or your favorite fix names or airport names—with a subject of “OTA,” to Frank@IFR-Magazine.com. Be sure to include your full name and location.
