Far West Air Taxi

[Hero540 0]

Hello, guys! I have seen and heard about Mutley's Hangar for quite sometime, but I never joined the forums. I feel that now is the time for that to change, especially after I saw quite a few awesome topics about people's Air Hauler companies. I read these and I was inspired to do my own! However, I'm not using Air Hauler in the traditional sense...so here's an overly long explanation about how I will be playing Air Hauler in combination with a few add-ons, plus the first chapter of my company's story.

 

Anyways, how I will be using Air Hauler. Air Hauler has an amazing business management aspect to it which is bar none to any other management sim ever. Ever. With that said, I am using it to generate assignments, pilots, pay, job pay outs, fuel costs and tracking, base rental fees, pretty much everything except the cargo. WHAT?! I hear you guys asking. Yeah, I know, who plays Air Hauler but doesn't use the job feature.

 

Neigh, I am using the job feature but in combination with another add-on called FSpassengers. Still confusing, so here's an example: say I find a job from A to B that is 600 pounds of Soft Drinks. Well, to me, that is 6 passengers. Basically the weights become the number of people I choose to fly using FsPassengers (with weight and fuel settings disabled so I can use Air Hauler's). This effectively turns my company from a freight company into an air taxi operator! Hopefully that makes sense. There will be more pictures in the future. Sorry for the overly long post, hopefully some of you will make it to the end. Some of you won't. In fact, most of you won't. Take a look around you. Those men will not survive to the end of this post. God Speed. Now, on to my company's first chapter:

 

Chapter 1:

 

 

 

$26,487.32 Monthly Overhead.

 

That number glared at me from the calculator screen. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat suddenly. I looked up from my desk and didn't feel good. The musty office walls seemed to be closing in. The furthest wall in the right corner by the cracked window looked especially ominious with it's darkened water damaged shapes forming menacing things in my mind.

 

Somewhere in the distance a single engined Cessna's motor spooled up and then sputtered and rumbled as the little plane taxied. 

 

"How in the hell will this work?" My chair creaked as I stood up from my paperwork covered desk, rubbing my eyes.

 

The "office" I was in was really just a small wooden building, hastily built by my uncle for his small air taxi operation he began right behind his rented hangar space in a little town: Hoquiam, Washington. The last few weeks were still a blur. I had finally gotten my own plane, a Cessna 337 Skymaster back in Canada. I had saved so much of my money, and had traveled so far to get it. Weeks worth of paperwork and phone calls had finally just gotten through and a new United States Registration was just put on her tail booms when I recieved the phone call and the news I never, ever expected. My uncle had died. A heart attack had taken him before his time, right in the very office I stood in now, as he struggled to envision his dream of seeing Far West Air Taxi become something. The next big shock is when they notified me that he had left the entire company and it's finances to me. With three planes, a receptionist, and a young and inexperienced pilot named Francesca to go with it all. 

 

Still in shock I flew the Skymaster to Bowerman Field in Hoquiam and took the reins. My uncle had taught me a lot about flying, and it was because of him I had worked my way up to a commercial pilot's license. I had not, envisioned, staying with general aviation. The Cessna Skymaster purchase was just following a fantasy of my own, and in all essence was a complete waste of time I should have been spending getting a job with an airline. 

 

The Cessna's engine roared from outside, reverberating off the walls in the office as it ran up to take-off speed and climbed lazily into the air. Before the noisy Cessna even really faded into the distance there came a knock at the office door, followed by some men's wolf-whistling and a young woman's voice yelling at them. I turned to see Francesca Knight stepping hurridly inside my office. Her face was red and she was understandably flustered. Francesca was my age; 24 and a very attractive woman with an ideal figure and long strawberry blonde hair to accent her bright green eyes. It was not uncommon for the male pilots, ramp workers, and general randoms to spend their time hassling her. And, while I'm sure she knew exactly how attractive she was, Francesca was beyond flirting, relationships and seeking the attention of the sleazeballs around the place, because her heart belonged to aviation. She was just as new and green to a CPL as I was, but extremely dedicated.

 

"What's going on?" I asked, trying not to sound stressed. I really should not have looked at the paperwork.

 

"Other than morons hassling me, I was wondering the same." she spoke with contempt for the men outside who were lucky to have walked along on their own business, not aware of the wrath they'd avoided because Francesca had more important matters on her mind. Whether or not Francesca respected me as the new owner of Far West Air Taxi remained to be seen by me. I knew for a fact Harrison Gilbert, our jack-of-all-trades employee who handled everything from airplane maintenance to passenger booking did not have any faith in my abilities to run the show.

 

"Look," Francesca began taking a deep breath "I-I don't want to sound pushy...I know you're going through a hard time right now..." She looked down at the floor. I knew exactly where she was going with her conversation, as nervous as she was to bring the subject up. Her gaze met mine and she continued, "We haven't had a job in a long while. Far West can't--"

 

"Go on without some revenue." I interupted. "Trust me, Francesca, I know. I was just trying to get my head around the paperwork, make sure I understood things--"

 

"So you're on it. Gotcha." Francesca sounded disgruntled. She spun on her heel and was almost out the door before I called out again.

 

"Now wait! Harrison's been ready to accept any fares or requests, and he said he'll have something coming up soon." I spoke hurriedly.

Francesca paused, and did not look back. She stepped out closing the door quietly behind her.

 

"That answers my question." I whispered to myself. Clearly she did not have any faith in me either. 

 

I slumped back into my chair and brushed aside some papers which fluttered to the floor in all directions. Underneath insurance paperwork and FAA regulations and Part 135 information, was a newspaper clipping:

 

A drive down Airport Way would have Far West Air Taxi's hangars visible from Bowerman Field, but what the leisurely driver may not know is that Hoquiam's own air taxi operator has fallen into troubled times. Far West's own chief pilot and owner, Mathias Redfield, suffered a fatal heart attack, Friday, July 12th, leaving the business without any management. Operations were ceased temporarily while Mathias' nephew, Lee Redfield was given control and ownership of all of Far West's assests and operations upon the request of Mathias' will. Lee (24), a commercial pilot license holder has said "It's a bit overwhelming at first but I intend to keep [Far West Air Taxi] going just like my uncle would have wanted." 

 

With no plans to sell the company, Lee plans to fly for the company himself, along with an unnamed second pilot. Far West Air Taxi has four planes in total, counting Lee's own personal Cessna 337 Skymaster he has brought in to operate for the company. 

 

Mathias Redfield had built up a sizeable air taxi company here in Hoquiam, but after his death most of his pilots left and some of his fleet was sold to keep up with the ever increasing operation costs, leaving more planes than pilots.

 

When asked about the issues of his pilots being outnumbered by planes Lee has said "...of course the planes we aren't flying are still costing us money just sitting on the tarmac. Ideally we'd like to expand and hire more pilots so we can offer more routes and services."

 

Many people in the local aviation community don't have much hope left for Far West Air Taxi after such tragedies. Ben Mueller, (43) spoke with us. "[Far West Air Taxi] was just starting to really make a name for itself, but after Mathias passed, there's not much that can be expected of it, especially after all the pilots left." 

 

With such grim prospects, can Hoquiam expect to see the air taxi company continue, or will it fade away like so many others? 

 

I stood up and was out of the musty office, crossing the tarmac. I was climbing into my Skymaster before I really knew it. The headset was on and I was ready to fly. Just a short lap around the town, VFR. Just to clear my mind. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7mVDa_riOjQ

[allardjd 1,853]

Welcome to Mutley's Hangar. Nicely written piece - I like it.

You are not the first to use AH and FSPax together. I've seen some references by others doing the same and it seems that it's possible to make that work.

Best of luck with the company. Keep the story line coming.

John

[Hero540 0]

Welcome to Mutley's Hangar. Nicely written piece - I like it.

You are not the first to use AH and FSPax together. I've seen some references by others doing the same and it seems that it's possible to make that work.

Best of luck with the company. Keep the story line coming.

John

 

Thanks John! I appreciate the warm welcome. It's really not too hard to use FSPax together with Air Hauler, you just have to be sure to set your FSP to disable weight and fuel. I keep mechanical failures on, as they have a wider array than Air Hauler does, but that's also just personal preference. Anyways, here's chapter 2. Another long read, so apologies all around. I like to write too much, I guess.

 

Chapter 2:

 

The next morning found me feeling as though I should hide from the world. Harrison and Francesca had both glared at me from the diner counter at Betty's as I walked past them to order a bite to eat. I ordered something cheap, feeling their eyes boring holes in my back, and practically ran back to the tiny office.

As I sat in my chair sipping coffee and staring at paperwork, the desk phone suddenly rang, nearly sending me to the floor. 

 

"Hello?"

 

"We actually got something," Harrion Gilbert's gruff voice crackled through the speaker. "I just got a call from some author's agent asking us to take his group up to Siletz Bay."

 

"Siletz Bay...?" I repeated as I frantically booted up my laptop and tried to make my way to Skyvector.com and Google Maps. 

 

"Tiny airfield just outside of Gleneden Beach, Oregon." Harrison grumbled. 

 

"Excellent, so what's the numbers?" I asked, shouldering the phone and letting my fingers fly over the keyboard to log in.

 

"So we have the author guy like I said, his wife, the author's agent, and I'm gonna assume their luggage..." Harrison paused and I heard muffled shuffling as he covered the phone to noisily spit some chewing tobacco. I did not like Harrison, he was crude, rude, unkempt, and dirty. Imagine, if you will, the most stereotypical 47 year old redneck mechanic you've ever seen in movies or can imagine, and that was Harrison Gilbert. Despite this he was an excellent mechanic and ramp worker. He handled the phones for customers pretty well, and was one of the only other employees to stay after my uncle passed.

 

"This is great, Harry," I continued typing Siletz Bay into Skyvector's airport search bar "did they have a specific time they wanted to leave?"

 

"Yeah, and I already took care of that much. I figured you wouldn't know how to deal with it, so I quoted them a price and booked 'em." Harrison spoke matter of factly, and made no attempts to hide his true thoughts of my business skills.  "They wanted to leave ASAP, so I said be down here in an hour. They're gonna pay by check."

I bit my lip to hold back saying something I really shouldn't. I was most definitely not your average looking 24 year old. I was shorter than most at 5'7" and pretty skinny. Youth, for as long as it will last, has kept me in what doctors say is good shape, but I follow the typical standards of American health, which is not really taking good care of my body. Like the old saying 

"Rejoice 'o young man in thy youth," I knew I was then, technically more fit that Harrison, but I could not beat him in a fight. so I kept my mouth shut, thanked him, and hung up the office 

phone. A better choice, than, for example, saying something I meant and getting my ass kicked for it. 

 

The weather reports looked good with over 20 miles of visibility reported at the current time of 9:30am and I kept an eye on the clock. I planned to go VFR to Siletz Bay which was just over 100nm south of Hoquiam, at a cruise altitude of 5,500. Low and slow, was the general aviator's adage, and I was definitely familiar with it, having never had the chance to work my way up to the big iron. Likely never would now, but inside, I was strangely okay with this. After I had set up my very uncomplicated direct VFR flight to Siletz State Airport, I decided to call Francesca into my office. Why would I fly this? Francesca needed more experience and I knew she was obsessed with aviation, and her dedication was apparent as she was literally the only line pilot to remain with Far West.  

 

She arrived within a few minutes, making no attempt to hide her boredom or the look of 'Why did I bother driving into work today?' look in her eyes. 

 

"You wanted to see me?" she asked. I had the feeling she thought I was going to dismiss her for the day.  

 

I nodded and gulped in some air. "Well, we finally got some work."

 

Her eyes seemed to light up, and a tiny smile crossed her lips. I filled her in about the author and his group of people headed to a book signing in Gleneden Bay and showed her the flight plan I drew up, which she thought was just fine. 

 

"So yeah, you wouldn't mind taking them, would you?" I finally asked.

 

"Heck no!" she replied excitedly "I have been waiting for this since I've been here!" She started to hop around excitedly, and then a thought crossed my mind.

 

'"Francesca?" 

 

she stopped "Yes?" she asked breathlessly.

 

"Don't take this the wrong way, but, is this the first job you've been assigned?" I asked, attempting not to sound judgmental.

 

All the excitement disappeared from her expression. She pulled over a small plastic backed chair, the kind you'd find in elementary schools, and sat down. 

 

"Yes, Lee, it is." she said sadly. "Mathias passed away just a day after he hired me, and I hadn't really even started building hours on my C-P-L. He was taking a chance by hiring me, and so I was just gonna wait to be given something. But then--then he passed away and all of his other pilots left when they heard he had willed control to his nephew. I decided to stay because I figured Mathias knew what he was doing." she took a breath and there was a moment of silence. I rotated my coffee mug in my hands.

 

"I knew he knew what he was doing..." Francesca suddenly continued " 'cause that's why he hired me!" 

We both started laughing, and the tension eased a bit. 

 

"Well," I said, "Damn straight he knew what he was doing. So yes, take that author's group up to Siletz Bay for me, please? They'll be arriving any minute." I reached to a peg board behind me and scooped the Cessna 172's keys off their hook and tossed them to Francesca. 

 

* * * * *

 

When the author and his entourage arrived, I was there at Far West's tiny passenger building to greet them. The author, named Jared Reed, was far younger than I imagined, someone only about my age, and his wife Faye, was a perfect match for him. The young couple were great together, and although shy, were very polite. The same could not be said for Jared's agent Zach Hamiliton. Zach was in a suit, on a cellphone angrily barking orders into it, dragging behind him a rolling suitcase stuffed to almost bursting. To make matters worse, Harrison followed behind him through the doors of our tiny passenger building, with a handtruck full of even more luggage, all of which were ready to pop their zippers. 

Francesca and I looked at each other in concern. Harrison quickly shuffled the arogant Zach and the polite Reeds through the luggage weighing routine and gave a few pieces of small plane travel advice that had long since been ingrained in his brain. When everything was said and done, the Skyhawk was going to be over it's MTOW with all that luggage and the passengers.

 

On the spot I stepped up to carry in my Skymaster what I could and ran to a computer terminal to double check weather one last time and to get a copy of the flight plan I had given Francesca. It was a lucky break, and our best bet was to have Francesca take Zach and the luggage in the Skyhawk while I took the Reeds in the Skymaster.

 

With a flurry of activity we were out on the ramp, gassing up our planes. Francesca seemed to be handling Zach as best as possible as he was shuffled into the Skyhawk and told of procedure while Harrison was busily shoving luggage into the back seats. I immediately regretted my decision to have Zach fly with poor Francesca as I could hear him yelling at her about time and inconvenience while her plane was still loading. I definitely lucked out with the young Reed couple as I helped them into my Cessna. When they saw my Skymaster they smiled and made a comment about the nose art on her, which I explained was why I named her "Ace of Spades."

 

The weather was great for VFR still boasting over 20nm visibility but clouds were started to crop up close to the ground. I punched S45 into the GPS and I was able to taxi and take-off before Francesca. I still felt bad for leaving her to deal with Zach. Routine runway 24 departure for Bowerman and the Skymaster clawed it's way up into the air effortlessly...

 

 

The climb out was a tad bit bumpy, so I kept the Reeds buckled in and listened in on my headset for Francesca. We stayed in radio contact with each other, and since I was in the lead I reported back to her. Despite the engine noise and Francesca's comm's static I could hear Zach complaining, or yelling on what I could only assume was his cellphone. The ride got choppier, but the Reeds kept quiet and just held hands and pointed at the views from the backseat. Clouds decided to visit unexpectedly, and I had to descend to the very low 3,500 feet to avoid a huge column of coverage...

 

 

3,500 should have been the planned altitude from the start, as everything was smoother. It was only about a 50 minute flight, longer for poor Francesca. Over comms she began to tell me something, then quit, and didn't key up. I began to worry about her but kept pressing on. It wasn't long before we had left Washington completely and were slipping down the Oregon coastline. 

 

 

 

 

Finally after only a few more pockets of some chop, I sighted and began making my 10 nautical mile call outs to S45

 

 

Headed south I needed to make a looping U turn back to make my touchdown as planned on runway 35. The wind really started to kick in, and I could see the waves really crashing on the beach as I made the turn on to final. The Skymaster is a gorgeous plane and hand flies like a dream, so everything just seemed to fall into place nicely. Before long runway 35 was lined up perfectly in my windscreen. 

 

 

Maybe it was the wind, maybe it was the focus, or the nerves of having two people and the a company's lives in my hands, but I made the smoothest touchdown of my career that day, wind causing me to push down the left rear main gear first, followed by two more lighter chirps as we graced the earth again. 

 

 

 

 

I rolled out and turned off, announcing clear while I searched for a parking spot. Within a minute I had the Skymaster shutdown and I was helping the Reeds to disembark while I nervously searched the sky for Francesca and her Skyhawk. I didn't want to cause a panic by getting on radio and calling out for her. Only time would tell what had happened as I walked with the Reeds to Siletz State Airport's terminal. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Bobby 0]

I love it.....very nice !!!!!!!!  

[Hero540 0]

I love it.....very nice !!!!!!!!  

 

Thanks so much!   I'm glad it was an enjoyable read. Not many have the patience to sit and read so much. I'm afraid I write too much. Okay, lemme rephrase that, I DO write too much, but it's so much fun! Besides, I used to write books (never published so ya know...there's that) so it's like an outlet for me. 

 

Now, I have a question, if I may ask, that is completely off topic. As you all can probably tell, I've been using the My Media feature to upload my pictures, which obviously uses of the sever's bandwith and displays photos in a lower resolution than normal. I started to do this because if I post the link to photobucket, whenever I preview my topic a red information bar appears at the top stating that the forum does not allow me to post images using that link. Is that normal, (as in something I should ignore?) or am I doing something wrong?

 

I'd like very much to use photobucket as it will display the full resolution file when click on. Reading Mutley's post about how to in the screenshot forum, he even uses photobucket as an example, so I'm pretty sure I'm doing something wrong on my part.

 

Thanks in advance, fellow pilots! And by all means, please feel free to post a bit about the goings-ons in your own company too, as the threads I've found in here are what inspired me to start writing this! 

[allardjd 1,853]

This forum uses an image link, i.e. one that begins and ends in an IMG label in square brackets.

Until recently, images posted at PhotoBucket included a posting link in that format that could be copied to the clipboard with a single click and used directly in the forum by just pasting it in.

Now, the closest link format they present for copying is a URL link with an IMG link embedded. I paste that and then delete the leading and trailing parts, up to the square brackets that delimit the IMG part.

Like this...

John

[Hero540 0]

John, 

 

Thanks for the very helpful information! That whole image bbc coding brackets has always been what I was used to, but when photobucket changed over to their new direct link plus bbc coding, I somehow thought that that was because forums everywhere had updated or done something new with the bbc code. 

 

I've always used the method you described above, and it's really strange that photobucket started doing that new html link crap within the bbc code. 

 

Excellent news for me though, as that means I don't have to spam the forum's media server and I can post my photos with higher resolutions. Forgive me, as I have to ask one more question, and maybe I misunderstood but from what I could tell in Mutley's  how to screenshot post I thought I had read that the forum will only display a thumbnail sized image until said image is clicked on? Is that correct, or did I read it wrong? (I should really go re-read the post...  ) or is there a technique I should use to do just that? I don't really want to be stretching the thread and forcing everyone to scroll side-ways by posting full resolution pictures.

 

Thanks again, 

 

--Lee

[allardjd 1,853]

Images can be posted here full size - no need to thumbnail them unless you want to do that or unless they are very large.  I try to keep mine to 1200 pixels wide or less - usually less.  Whether a user sees scroll bars and has to scroll to see the image depends on what he's using to view the forum with and what resolution he's at.  If he's on a phone or another mobile or a small display or has a very low resolution set, he gets what he gets. 

 

It speaks well of you that you are concerned about causing problems for other users on the forum, but you can't fix everything for everyone.

 

John

[Hero540 0]

Images can be posted here full size - no need to thumbnail them unless you want to do that or unless they are very large.  I try to keep mine to 1200 pixels wide or less - usually less.  Whether a user sees scroll bars and has to scroll to see the image depends on what he's using to view the forum with and what resolution he's at.  If he's on a phone or another mobile or a small display or has a very low resolution set, he gets what he gets. 

 

It speaks well of you that you are concerned about causing problems for other users on the forum, but you can't fix everything for everyone.

 

John

 

Awesome, sounds good to me then. I think my images will probably be the photobucket default which I believe is around 1024 by something or other. I'm used to being on forums with very strict image size rules to keep a uniform standard for all of their members, and it has been a very long time since I belonged to a forum that allows image posting as the OP sees fit. I miss it, actually, because it is nice to be able to see full-size images. It's also refreshing to know that a forum still exists that trusts it's members enough to use common sense and not cross the line.

 

EDIT: No dice, the problem for me continues. This example is me trying to post an image to my signature, so perhaps that is the issue (maybe signature settings are different?) but this is what happens. The first image shows how I have set up the link with the proper bbc coding, with an open and /closing bracket code.

 

http://s293.photobucket.com/user/Night_Hawkphotos/media/Before.jpg.html?sort=3&o=0

 

The second image shows what happens when I click on save. I get the error message stating I am not allowed to use that code and for whatever reason, it does an auto save but removes my IMG bracket bbc coding. 

 

http://s293.photobucket.com/user/Night_Hawkphotos/media/After.jpg.html?sort=3&o=1

 

I had to post links as well due to the same error here in the forum thread. This is very confusing...?

 

 

[Hero540 0]

Okay, I think I finally have it figured for any users that are having the same issues that I was. Make sure when you are posting pictures that "Enable HTML" is checked in the full version editor. It'll be on the right-hand side. For whatever reason, despite using BBC coding for images, apparently this box needs to be checked for them to work. I have enabled that option, and the image has posted correctly.

Also, more chapters coming soon!

[Hero540 0]

Sorry, no pictures on this one, as it bridges the gap between the next job. But at least I got the whole photobucket image posting thing sorted. Thanks everyone who reads these long stories of mine!   
 
Chapter 3:
 
Sitting in the cafe at Siletz State Airport with the Reeds was quite nice, except for my growing concern for Francesca who was about 10 minutes behind me when we left Hoquiam. 15 minutes had passed now, and while completely acceptable based on the Skyhawk's cruising speed, I was still nervous. It was, afterall, her first real flight with the company.  The Reeds chatted with me, and Jared appeared to show quite a fondness for my Skymaster, which I have to admit filled me with pride. 
 
Finally as I was about to see if I could reach Francesca's cellphone, I began to hear the faint and distinct sound of a small, general aviation craft starting to rumble in from the North. I excused myself from the small table where the Reeds and I had been sitting, and rushed outside and stood on the concrete parking apron straining my eyes to see. 
Within moment's Francesca's tiny faded orange Skyhawk appeared from the hazy coastal air, and began to make a very smooth descent to the runway. If I had thought my landing was smooth, Francesca's blew mine out of the water. I watched as she slowed the Cessna masterfully on the rollout and taxied in to her parking spot. 
The engine clattered to a stop as I walked up towards the plane. Suddenly, the Skyhawk's passenger door flew open quickly, and a very pale and disheveled Zach fell from the plane onto the tarmac, pushed himself up onto all fours and vomited.
Francesca stepped out from the pilot's side, looking just as pale. Zach continued to cough and spit and vomit on the cement. Francesca's gaze met mine and she shrugged, mouthing what I interpretted as "I don't know what's wrong."
 
"Mr. Hamilton, are you alright?" I asked. At this point, despite Zach's rudeness back at Bowerman, I felt compelled to do something, as sick as he was. Besides that, just the noises he was making was beginning to make me feel quite nauseated. 
 
"I'm fine! I hate small planes. This is not how people are meant to travel!" Zach blurted out breathlessly. He stood, and wiped his face. "Far West sure has one hell of an idea about customer comfort!" He began to walk towards me, and sadly, I felt my adrenaline kick in. 
 
"I don't--"
 
"You don't know what the hell it's like to ride shotgun in one of those things, that much I f***ing know!" Zach's face went from pale to red as he interuptted me and started poking his finger into my chest.  
 
Francesca's eyes widened and she looked genuinely concerned. She started to walk up behind Zach, looking for any way to help. 
 
"Zach!" A voice boomed, causing Francesca, Zach, and myself to jump almost in unison. I spun around quickly to face where the voice had come from. Jared Reed had snuck up behind all of us, and his calm, smiling demanor had twisted into an expression of rage.
 
"I quite enjoyed my flight," Jared began in measured steps in an attempt to supress his anger, "So maybe you should explain why you're berating our pilots!"
Francesca stepped next to me quickly. I almost put my arm around her, but thankfully had enough sense not to be a complete idiot at that moment.
 
"I-it was bumpy as hell. It was too turbulent." Zach began. His voice had changed from a menacing growl to a humbled apologetic sound.
 
"I changed altitude as much as I could..." Francesca offered. She sounded upset, and I didn't blame her in the least.  The weather, by the time I had started my final approach had not turned sour in the sense of storms, but the time was nearing noon, the highest temperature mark of the day, which caused turbulence as the hot air began to mix with the cold.
 
"Our ride was a bit bumpy too, Zach," Jared continued, "but that's no reason to fly off the handle. You hired this company to get us here in a very short notice, and we've gotten here safely and on time. What more do you want?"
 
My appreciation and respect for Jared was increasing as my heart finally stopped pounding in my ears. Nothing like being as small as me and thinking you're in for a fight. 
Zach took a few deep breaths, looked at me and Francesca, then back to Jared. Defeated, he walked away hurriedly towards Siletz's passenger terminal under Jared's gaze.
 
Finally, Jared turned to Francesca and me. "I'm sorry about him. He's never enjoyed airplanes. He usually gets pretty sick and then wants to blame someone for it." 
There was a long pause and I waited for Francesca to speak. When it appeared she wasn't going to, I lied "It's fine."
I began unloading Francesca's plane of luggage from the backseat, and discovered that Zach had vomited all over the seat and floor of the passenger side. The smell was atroucious. 
Unloading the bags was hard work in the rising heat. To make matters worse, I had to smell the damn plane. Francesca came over and began to help, and thankfully that made the task go faster. 
 
When finally we got the bags unloaded we took them into the Reeds, who again were apologetic for Zach's behaviour. They thanked us again as a taxi arrived to take them. 
 
As the car drove off I turned to Francesca. "I am so sorry!" 
 
Francesca just shrugged and laughed. "He was a real ass." 
 
"You're not kidding..." I paused and took a breath. "So you still liking this business?" I was afraid of her answer.
Francesca had an expression on her face that looked as though she might quit on the spot. "This was an absolutely horrible job. But the flying was amazing...aside from Zach barfing all over the place. He was so sick, I tried to give him an airsick bag, but he just started throwing up everywhere. It almost made me sick."
I thought about the odd noises I had heard on the radio, and then I realized that's what Francesca had been trying to tell me before she stopped transmitting. 
 
"How far out from Bowerman did he start getting sick?" I asked. I was afraid with Francesca's inexperience and determination to fly, she may have just pushed on when she could've diverted. 
 
"We were only about 15 miles from final when he started." She answered. "Otherwise I would've diverted back." 
I immediately felt like a jerk for doubting her judgement. She was not experienced on paper, but she definitely knew what she was doing. 
 
"Well, Francesca," I began dreading what I was about to say, "Let's go get your plane cleaned up."

[allardjd 1,853]

Good story line.  Is your AH company making any money yet?

 

John

 

 

[Hero540 0]

Thanks for reading John! My company is making some dough. I've got a few jobs in the basket. Unfortunately I have to be honest... I'm going to ruin it for everybody by saying this but I started on easy so I could hire some AI pilots right away since my real life job has a wacky schedule, and get the Carenado planes I enjoy flying. I have 4 planes in total and 2 pilots. Although, I play Air Hauler in a bit of a funny way. I hire pilots with extremely low skill ratings and use them as ground staff, to simulate things like mechanics, ticket handlers, advertising agents, ect. Hence Harrison Gilbert ( a 35% skill level.)

 

So I have a large overhead, but because I started on easy I have a solid bank account. I wish there was a way to actually remove money, but ya know. Hopefully that doesn't ruin the story for everyone, lol.   

[Bobby 0]

Love the story line. Not to worry about removing money.....your crew will either stove in a plane and bring you the repair bill.....or they'll take petty cash to the local watering hole just outside the fence

[allardjd 1,853]

There's always the stock market...

John

[Hero540 0]

Love the story line. Not to worry about removing money.....your crew will either stove in a plane and bring you the repair bill.....or they'll take petty cash to the local watering hole just outside the fence

Thanks so much for reading Bobby! Yeah, I'm waiting for Francesca Knight to pancake my Skyhawk, but surprisingly she seems to be doing just fine. She was rated at 73% when she was hired, so it's looking good so far. As for Harrison Gilbert, I hired him as "ground personnel/mechanic" so yeah, he should start taking his paychecks soon if I remember correctly. (AI Pilots do still require a monthly check, even if they don't fly right?) That is one of the reasons I am going to start hiring "ground staff" so that they can start taking away from my bank account, and take away the advantage I by proxy gave myself by starting on easy.

 

There's always the stock market...

John

Ya know, this is actually brilliant. I have lost quite a bit in past companies gambling on this money burner. May have to give it a go! 

 

And thanks again so much everyone for reading. I know, I know, I already said thanks many times, but ya know, it's really satisfying to write something that others get a touch of enjoyment out of, so really, thanks! 

[Hero540 0]

Another one potentially too long. Good luck!
 
Chapter 4:
 
Just as I felt I could no longer handle the horrendous smell, Francesca and I finished cleaning out the passenger side of the Skyhawk.
"That was a massacre." I said weakly.
 
"There's not enough pine fresheners in the world..." Francesca trailed off. 
 
Luckily for us the staff at Siletz State Airport were quite helpful and understanding, and their janitorial staff loaned us a bucket with soapy water and some protective gloves to get everything cleaned up. Admittedly the Skyhawk would probably never be the same, leastways, not until I got her detailed back at home. 
Suddenly, my cellphone began to ring. 
 
"Hello?"
 
"Lee," it was Harrison's voice, "You and Frankie's flight time looks like it should be up, you guys touchdown?"
I was tempted to be a sarcastic jerk to him in retaliation for telling me I didn't know what I was doing. Then I remembered that Zach was ready to start throwing fists, and decided that I really, really didn't want my ass kicked this day, and everything seemed to be leaning towards that probability. 
 
"Yeah, we're on the ground at Siletz State. What's going down?"
By this time Francesca became interested, and she pressed her face near mine to listen in. I let her stand close.
 
"Got another job lined up that's not too far away," Harrison continued, "A couple of suveyors need a flight out of Vineyard Airport just outside of McCoy."
These towns, despite my home state originally being Oregon, I had never heard of nor visited. Definitely something I needed to check out on my phone's internet.
 
"Sounds like revenue." I offered.
 
"I ain't done yet," Harrison grumbled, "This job is sweet 'cause it's headed back home. Houqiam and Bowerman. They're apparently going to drive out to whatever the hell it is they're surveying. Got ya a return trip. You can thank me later with beer and a fat paycheck later. They already booked and their company has sent payment. Need them up here by tomorrow."
 
"Noted." I said. The speaker clicked as Harrison hung up.
 
"Sounds great! We get to go back home!" Francesca said excitedly. 
 
"Yeah? You tired of flying?" I asked bemused. If she wasn't, I was, especially after the gory mess we had to clean up.
 
"No!" she blurted out. "I mean, I can keep going if you want." As almost an after thought she added, "Boss." 
 
I laughed, and shielded my eyes with my hand as I looked skyward. The temperature was well into the 90's and would climb a bit higher. Aside from the temperatures, summer in the pacific northwest was generally a pilot's dream (generally being that it can bring some rough thunder and rain storms). Clear skies for miles around, was all that met my gaze.
 
"Tell you what," I began exhaling, "You take that job back home. You'll have to fly out to meet our surveyors at Vineyard and stay the night somewhere. You have your company charge-card right?"
 
"Of course!" she replied and held out the credit card.
 
"Good. Now look, we don't know these people. Please be safe." 
 
Francesca made an 'oh please' face. "What are you, my mother?" Francesca she asked. Pocketing the credit card she then reached in another pocket of her jeans and held up a small can of extra strength pepper spray. With that, she turned on her heel and began jogging towards the tiny FBO building to go start herself a flight plan. 
 
While Francesca was busy, I walked back to my Skymaster, climbed aboard and set the headset over my ears. I had business to attend to in Florence, Oregon as someone there owed me a favor. 
 
***

The short hop further South to Florence was completely uneventful, but the Oregon coastline was as majestic as ever. I pulled off another smooth landing at Florence Municipal, more a testament to the amazing build and flyability of the Skymaster and not my own skill. I called clear and taxiied in to an empty parking spot and shut down the engines. 
No sooner did I swing open the clamshell style doors of the Cessna than did Felix Anderson appear, red-faced and looking surprised as he crossed over the concrete apron towards me.
 
"Lee Redfield?" he asked in shock, wiping his grease-covered hands on his coveralls.
 
"Yup." I said dryly.
 
"What in God's name are you doing here?"
 
I ignored him for the moment, and inhaled the warm salt air. Florence was a great coastal city, despite it being uncharacteristically warm, I could still smell the ocean, though, I was much more used to it being balmy. 
 
"Quite the heatwave you guys are having on the coast." I said after a long pause.
 
"What do you want, Lee?" Felix's voice was now almost entirely full of panic. 
 
I smiled coyly. I am not, by any means, a menacing or intimidating man. But I had quite the favor to cash in to get even with Felix, who thought he had ditched me.
"Money, Felix. More specifically, my money!" I took a few steps forward. I had to admit, it was almost comical to see the tall and lanky Felix cowering from me. The poor kid was really...well, soft, to say. If he had a bit more confidence in himself, he'd understand that his height gave him every advantage over me in a stand up fight. 
 
"L-look, I don't know how you found me..." Felix stammered
 
"So you're admitting that you purposely tried to ditch me...?"
 
"N-no!" He pulled a dirty rag from his back pocket and began to nervously wipe his hands "I just needed some time okay? I can't pay you back for your investments, not just yet! But I will!"
 
"Sounds awfully familiar and disappointing." I returned. 
 
"Listen, you know it's rough right now. I'll--"
 
"Felix. Shut up."  I finally said. I didn't want to be the bad guy. It was just plain awkward that he was afraid of me. An expression of bewilderment crossed Felix's face. "If you don't have my money, that's fine. But at least give me something. A lead, another job, anything." I said.
 
"Alright. Yeah, another job. Okay." Felix paused in thought. "Let me make a phone call." 
 
I gestured back towards the cluster of buildings Felix had come from. "By all means." I was smarter than he hoped, and I followed him back into a small office area within a tiny FBO hidden behind some Hangars. 
 
Felix spent some time on the phone, and finally he told me of some friends of his who'd recently suffered a death in their family. They needed desperately to get to Aberdeen to make the funeral. The only catch was that I had to meet them at a tiny private airstrip in Elmira, Oregon called Crow-Mag.  Felix went further by contacting the airstrip owner and secured permission for me to land and tie down the Cessna for the night, for a small fee of $250. This grass airstrip was the family's closest option, and so with that I thanked Felix, but explained he still owed me money, to which he had a sour response.  I ignored him and left, knowing full well how shocked he was that I had found him.
Back inside the cockpit of the Skymaster, I used my phone to find Crow Mag (33OR) and plotted a simple direct VFR flight Eastward. It was less than a 30 nautical mile jaunt, but due to the location it was the most scenic and refreshing flight I ever flew. 
 
I punched in the ICAO code on the Garmin and left Florence, admiring the power of the Skymaster's continental engines as they roared and shot us up into the air majestically.

 

Due to the close proximity of the ocean, and flying East towards the Cascade Mountain ranges, I got to admire some breath-taking scenery, with many rivers and little outlets, all making their way downhill and West towards the pacific ocean. 

 

 

The views were so stunning, I had to take a snapshot with my camera phone.

 

The majesty of the mountain range I was flying above seemed to make the flight last much longer, and I was completely okay with this. The amount of change in such a short distance was incredible. Before long the rivers became less noticeable as I went deeper inland and East. I was above some of nature and man's most unique architecture.

 

I was close enough to the ocean still, that the humid salt air hung in a very light haze, only amplifying the beauty of the mountains.

 

I was so engrossed in the amazing views passing underneath me, that it came as a shock when I was less than 10 miles out from Crow Mag.

 

I announced my landing intentions on the Unicom and began to really strain to see the tiny 50ft wide grass airfield. The problem for me and attempting to be a not dead bush pilot was trying to find these out of the way airfields, which are really just glorified clear-cut areas that even some RC flyers would be nervous to land their planes in. It was at this point that I realized Crow Mag was going to be a problem. 

 

I abused my GPS to finally get an idea of where the damn field was located, and when I did finally see the field, I had to announce a go around, because I was damn near on-top of it before I noticed it. Only a small hangar and some impressive storage piles of steel tubing were the giveaways.

 

The problem was, everytime I'd turn to go base or crosswind I'd lose sight of the field behind huge pines, and with each go around, I was sweeping lower to the earth, probably only making my issue worse, (in hindsight)

 

It was on one of these low-pass go arounds I finally got it into my brain where to stay focused.

 

By now I had made so many dizzying go arounds, I was determined to land. I set full flaps, and with heart pounding, I flew in and announced final. Of course, what would happen if the world and my crap luck didn't make things hard for me? As I was at the point of no return, wind starting gusting between the huge pines that were now whipping past my wind screen, and I began to struggle on already a steep descent angle.

 

I touched down on the left main gear quite smoothly, but the grass strip had many bumps and potholes, with the wind pushing, my right main gear stayed aloft, as the nose wheel touched down. I was jostled about the cockpit violently as I kicked opposite rudder in a feeble and inexperienced attempt not to side-load my poor Skymaster's gear to the point of shearing off. After what seemed like forever, the right gear touched down and I bumped unelegantly down the rough grass strip, pulling flaps up full to increase my braking.

 

I could feel the sweat rolling down the backs of my arms as I taxied in. Crow Mag airport, was now my least favorite airport, but as they say, any landing you can walk away from. I'm just glad my customers weren't there to see this one.

 

(A video of the landing)

 

 

 

 

 

[Bobby 0]

Very nice pics....love the adventures.

 

btw...did you know that Megascenery Earth just released the whole State of Oregon? I'd post screenshots except I'm still waiting for the DVD's to be delivered. My Internet is to slow to attempt a 50 GB download

 

http://www.megasceneryearth.com/store/cart.php?target=product&product_id=801&category_id=162

[Hero540 0]

Bobby, thanks for reading! And no, I hadn't been keeping up on new releases in the FSX world as of late. I've been buried under work right now, which is why I haven't posted another chapter. I'll definitely check out that link! Being from Oregon, that'd be great to have. A real slice of home in my FSX 

 

Unfortunately, bills upon bills in real life, will probably see this one as a Christmas wish. 

 

Thanks again!

 

--Lee

[allardjd 1,853]

Good to see the story continuing.  Keep 'em coming.

 

John

[Hero540 0]

I awoke to sunlight streaming through the window of my tiny hotel room in Elmira. Already I could tell it was going to be a hot day, but in a sense, despite the discomfort, I could easily complete the flight ahead of me. 180 nautical miles back to Hoquiam, Washington with three people to grieve the loss of another in Aberdeen. 

I showered and brushed my teeth after a small meal and was happy to leave the hotel.

 

I took a cab back to Crow-Mag airfield which was quite expensive. I met with the owner of the tiny private field to talk business, and thanked him for allowing me it's use and a tie down for the Skymaster. After I paid him in cash for the services I began to plan the day's flight using my cellphone. Thankfully I could do another quick VFR avoiding some serious headache and frequency numbers. I thought about Francesca off somewhere near Salem about now, also dealing with the same problems albeit with a pair of surveyors and their equipment trying to cram into the back of the 172. Being as how I was in charge, it was policy to send me a text whenever she went airborne so I could mentally track where and when she should be arriving. It was not the most technical of systems, but it served it's purpose. I tossed my duffle bag into the tiny baggage compartment. All that was left for me was to wait for the family I'd be transporting and for Francesca's progress reports. I sat down in the pilots' seat and idly watched as the temperatue climbed along with the sun, and took mental notes of the cloud formations. 

 

It was not long before a group of people arrived by a silver SUV and shuffled towards my plane. The looks on their faces and the unlikihood of any other people showing up to Crow Mag confirmed that these were the people I'd be flying. They were all adults, two females, one quite...heavy...and the last a young adult male. With them they carried only small bags, not more than backpacks, really. I greeted them and tried to express to them that I understood how they must've felt, but at the same time I felt as though I only made the situation more awkward.

All that was left was the business aspect, and so I helped them aboard the Skymaster, and focused on the job. Clearly this group did not care for my small talk, and for this I did not blame them. I fired up the Skymaster, made my callouts, and taxied to the tiny grass runway. 

 

 

As I fired the tractor engine up once I was over the rough terrain and hopefully clear of a prop-strike, I felt my pocket vibrate. It must've been Francesca telling me about her progress. I looked over my shoulder and saw that only the young male was watching me intently. Risking the look of professionalism, I pulled my cellphone from my pocket and glanced very quickly. Francesca's name appeared with a brief "In the air bossman."

 

I couldn't help but grin. Bossman? She must've been in a good mood. Better than the somberness in my plane's cabin at that moment. I had spent a lot of time feeling grief and mourning my uncle. That was then replaced with a deep depression and then a heavy burden of responsibility. Yesterday was one of the best times I'd ever had flying, and so I was upset about today. I of course could not blame the family, but there they were all of their hearts full of pain, just idly staring out the windows. No small talk, no interesting stories, no wonder, just in a tiny cramped plane they did not like going to attend a funeral. It was a completely different, and dark mood, and it made me sad. This is not what aviation was supposed to be. 

 

Full power on takeoff with a single setting of flaps until I was mid-field, then I dropped to half flaps, pulled back early on the stick using the Skymaster's powerful engines and groundeffect to get me out of Crow Mag's soft grass. I started the gear and flaps up 600 feet above the trees.

 

 

Elmira slipped away much quieter than when Ace of Spades left her. My planned altitude for heading back up North was 8,500 feet and so I continued at about 120 knots, cowl flaps open for cooling up at about 1,000 feet per minute. My passengers remained quiet, and again, nothing I could possibly say would actually be worth saying. I just hoped the views sliding past us would ease their pain.

 

 

Oregon's wilderness pervades everywhere. In fact, unlike most towns, or cities in other states, towns in Oregon blend with the wild. It is not cleared away, it is conformed to, and so as I reached my cruise altitude I passed over these seemingly tiny specs of towns nestled amongst the trees. It was unique to see some of these small towns pass underneath me, as I had never even set foot in them, much less heard of them. And now, they slipped underneath the Skymaster's wings effortlessly, just as I was a speck crossing unnoticed above them. 

 

 

The time passed slowly, and occasional glances over my shoulder saw that at this point my passengers had fallen asleep to the head-phone reduced thrum of the Skymaster's engines. I was wide open at 140 knots but it felt as though I was hovering motionless in the bright late-morning sky. Finally the landscape seemed to be changing, and the mountains returned to my windscreen as I neared Northern Oregon. 

 

 

I could not believe what the twists and turns of those mountain roads looked like from the air. I wondered how those logging trucks ever survived those passes. 

 

 

Ahead of those same mountains I finally began to see clouds and further beyond the coastline as I cut across the middle of the state. Those clouds marked pockets of heavy turbulence, and unfortunately, I had just enough fuel to avoid big cloud banks and make Bowerman, but not bypass entire mountain ranges. I pointed the nose at a clear section of sky, and pushed onward, hoping for a smooth ride. 

 

 

It seemed my luck was going to be it's usual self, and as I avoided one cloud bank, another seemed to be just behind it. I was starting to wonder if I should contact Seattle Center and pick up and instrument plan. 

 

 

Some gentle turns got me past some barriers.

 

 

 

 

As we crossed over the last of the mountain ranges we followed their rivers down to the flat lands and the coastline as we drew ever closer to Northern Oregon. 

 

 

 

More time crawled past seemingly as fast as the landscape. Finally the last major town before Washington came into view, Astoria, Oregon. I had never been there, but from the air it looked like a big place, that would be somewhere I'd like to see on foot someday.

 

 

 

Astoria faded away behind us as we passed into Washington. Grays Harbor, Hoquiam, and finally Bowerman were only a few tens of miles away. I planned to do a large loop out over Grays Harbor Wildlife Refuge and down onto runway 6. The unicom sat strangely silent after I made my 10 mile and landing intention annoucements. Either Francesca had beat me there, or she wasn't near enough Bowerman. She did have quite the headstart on me, depsite the 172's slower cruise speed. I tried to wake my passengers as nicely as possible to tell them to buckle up for descent and landing. Before long we were making the looping turn towards Gray Harbor.  

 

 

The Skymaster had always handled like a dream, and I made the turn in towards runway 6 easily, the PAPI lights informing me of a good descent.

 

 

I announced final and kept the Skymaster on target for the nicest prepared, paved, and largest airport I had been to in over a day.

 

 

Touchdown was right on the centerline and smooth at about negative 80-something feet per second on the VSI. I loved the Skymaster just for the pure and simple fact that it made it seem like I actually knew what I was doing.

 

 

Rollout was routine, as I put flaps up, announced clear and switched off strobes, landing and on taxi lights as I turned off. Hardly anything had been spoken for a long time, so I decided to thank my passengers for flying with me. They mumbled their unintelligible responses and again, I felt awkward. 

 

 

I was almost elated as I rolled up to Far West's ram-shackle FBO building. Despite it's dilapidated state, it never looked so good to me. Another good sight was Francesca's 172 parked in the general aviation section further up the apron. I shut down and began helping the passengers to disembark. Bowerman was definitely my home now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Bobby 0]

_{Great screen shots.....although, at the risk of dating me, I got flashbacks of the FAC's in Vietnam. Haven't seen one of those planes in a loooong time.}

 

_{I enjoy the read....thank you}  

[Hero540 0]

Bobby, thanks for reading! 

 

At the risk of sounding dated, albeit in the opposite way, (a young pup at 24) I had to make sure I was correct in guessing that FAC was Forward Air Controller. I knew the Skymasher was used in Vietnam as a scout and I also want to say a light ground attack aircraft (?) which I believe it was designated the O-2 (which Carenado provides a great model of!) so please, by all means correct me if I'm wrong. I love learning, especially about my nations history, but I have no military experience and have remained a blissfully unaware civvy   

 

I can see how the forests of Oregon as portrayed in FSX could do that. Lots of greenery and some rolling hillsides in my shots there. Nowhere near as humid I believe and for that I say thank goodness! While not Vietnam my father spent a lot of time in Bangkok, Thailand, setting up a machine shop for my grandfather in the early '90's and he told me some horror stories of 100+ degree Fahrenheit temperatures with 100% humidity. Does not sound fun.

 

As for the Skymaster, it's always been my favorite plane next to the DC-3. Never really been too near one in real life, but I just love their look. I had the FSD International Designs model for quite some time, but I was ecstatic when Carenado released their version. Sooo much better.   

[brett 2,316]

Well done Lee, a very enjoyable read.  Almost sounds like you and Francesca are married.

[Hero540 0]

Well done Lee, a very enjoyable read.  Almost sounds like you and Francesca are married.

 

Thanks Brett! 

 

And, whoops, not my intention!  I do tend to worry about her as when I hired her in Air Hauler she wasn't very experienced, and I tried to incorporate that into the story, and it sounds like I gave the wrong impression.  The Francesca Knight I have imagined, while quite attractive, is not the marrying type. Her career in aviation is her main focus, and besides that, the Lee Redfield in the story, much like the real one, is not what you'd call a good person. He also leaves a lot to be desired in terms of looks as well. 

But now that I'm done bashing myself, I really appreciate you taking the time to read my story.