Recipe for disaster: Start with two brothers old enough to know better — one a low time pilot (210 pounds), the other a student pilot (170 pounds) — squeeze them into a Cessna 150, add 3,600 feet of elevation, blend in a lot of darkness, gradually add a crosswind, and then mix with overcast sky. Follow with a few gallons of water and a dash of overconfidence. …
Being originally from Billings, Montana, but living in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, my wife and I along with our two children were down visiting my family. My brother Curt and I had grown up around airplanes, spending many an hour listening to our dad talk with fellow pilots about the near-death experiences of the month. With Dad being a fixed-wing crop duster and helicopter pilot, he had his fair share of stories. Dad had in excess of 10,000 hours of logged flying time. My wife’s father from Canada was a bush pilot, who also had 10,000-plus hours of flying time, so I had the privilege of hearing his stories as well, which, of course, I shared with my brother. With all of that unofficial ground schooling, needless to say we thought we were just as good pilots, only younger.
