Mineral Wells
We were about 7,500 MSL over Mineral Wells, Texas (elevation 954 MSL). We had been indicating around 83 kts groundspeed — woohoo, 83 kts GS in the PW-5! The Oudie showed a couple of private strips on each side of the screen and just green in the middle. In that part of Texas the green means scrub trees and thorny stuff. Besides, there was water everywhere, just like there had been since south of Cheney. I was just not happy about the prospects of a landout. As a matter of fact that was the biggest concern of the entire trip. How are two guys with bad backs going to get a glider out of the mud?
Anyway, at this point I had used up the last apparent thermal. There was nothing but blue sky in front of us. I could have gone an easy 30 more miles based on altitude and winds, but underneath me was a nice looking runway. With my virgin chase crew, Greg Swanson — an old crew chief buddy from the Huey days — texting that he was 1:45 behind me due to my maladjustment westward that gave him trouble tracking the highways, I spiraled down gently around the airport area, keeping towards the upwind side. With 6,500 feet to burn it took a while, and heading back north was just slightly above a hover. I landed on 36 and had a long push just to get to a dry enough area of grass to get off the active while a powered plane used the SE/NW runway. The FBO manager drove over and helped me by holding up a wingtip to get TinkerBell over to the FBO area. Old school FBO courtesy.
Mineral Wells is the old Fort Wolters. It was a basic flight training location for what would become the massive numbers of Huey pilots for the Army during the Vietnam War. Greg made it. Tear down was in the dark with ramp lights to help on one side. It went slowly due to fatigue.
Greg really made the flight happen. I can’t tell you enough how talented this guy is with aircraft. When I flipped the master switch I turned on the logger and Oudie, and finally the radio. Oops, blank screen where the frequency appears. I quickly decided the flight was a NoGo and was ready to push off from the grid to the ramp and just call it a day. Greg diagnosed the problem and traced the culprit — a connector on the back of the radio. He trotted over to his truck, came back with a batch of connectors and crimping pliers, and had the wire stripped, connector crimped, and screwed back on in time to take off without busting my place in the grid.
I struggled getting established in the first thermal. Then I struck out Condon style. It was slow going at first, and then suddenly I was past Cheney Lake. As we crossed familiar landmarks I realized I was going to at least drift with the thermals and make some distance. At about Anthony I found some forward motion and managed a few dolphin stretches. Then central Oklahoma struck. I got down to less than 1,000 AGL and had a field picked out. I made a wide last transit looking over my right shoulder at a tiny, flooded wheat field and got a Hail Mary thermal that put me back headed south. I barely skirted the edge of the Ft. Sill area, then continued south past Sheppard AFB. The thermals were easy but busy, and I wasted too much time thermalling. Our distance could have been so much farther if I hadn’t flown so conservatively.
I had decided I might divert towards Abilene, TX. My thirty-minute southwest diversion cost Greg lots of difficulty and put him much further behind since the roads don’t just suddenly change direction like my mind. The sky blued out, clouds had much more blue between them, and I chose to head back southeast. As the clouds in front began to flatten and get more distance between them I texted Greg that I was going to land at Jacksboro, a man-made peninsular strip at a lake surrounded by trees. I was sure I could get down there, but I was maintaining about 7,500 MSL and had 6,000 feet to spare. I remembered Tony saying I should be able to hit thirty miles in no lift with the available tailwinds, so I pressed on. I poked towards one small town with a public strip and then made a slight correction towards Mineral Wells. Good thing I did because it was a terrific place to stop.
When Greg finally caught up to me we disassembled little TinkerBell in the half-light of the ramp lights outside the FBO. As usual, adrenaline was coursing through all of my synapses and we took off with me driving as we relived the adventures of the day.