That First Cross Country

I've told this story time after time so I thought I better get it down on record just for the heck of it.

When you get a pilot's license, part of the requirements are three solo-cross country flights. At least, they were required when I got my license, way back when. Anyway, I had a little trouble on two of them. Here is my story.

I believe this was my second solo cross country. It was supposed to be from Fayetteville, Arkansas to Joplin, Missouri, and back to Fayetteville. Well, I never made it to Joplin. I took off in Cessna 16U sometime in 1992 I guess. Had my flight planned plotted out and filed with the FAA Flight Service Station, did my preflight inspection and all of that other stuff that I barely remember these days and I was ready to go.

No worries about the fact that only one of the radios was working in the plane because one had been taken out for repair. No problem.

Well, there I go. Cessna 16u, runway 3 4, cleared for take off. 16u. Depart North and head for Joplin. Everything is going smooth. Northwest Arkansas is beautiful. Trees, towns, hills, lakes. Beautiful. Well, passing over Rogers, Arkansas, I try and turn my radio to the next VOR or whatever navigation system I was using and low and behold, it won't work. How will I ever find Joplin, Missouri if I can't tune my radio in? Then I look out the window and I see an airport. Small, but definitely a runway. Unfortunately I'm flying at about 200o feet or so and need to get down to the ground. I turn my little airplane to the east and head for somewhere. I tune the radio in to some frequency, don't know where because now I think I'm pretty lost. I try to get closer to the ground but the airplane goes into the caution zone on the altitude gauge. Oh my God. Stay calm I tell myself. Level out those wings and descend at less of an angle.

I'm getting closer to the ground now. Thank God. But something stinks, bad. Could I have been so scarred that I had an accident in my pants? I hope not. Keep circling the airport, I'm almost ready to enter a left downwind now. Left base, Oh I see, a pig farm!! I didn't have an accident. Finally, 16u on short final to some airport. Airplane lands, thank God I'm on the ground now. Taxi to the little buildings. Get out of the airplane and head into the FBO. What do I find on a Sunday morning at some little airport somewhere near Northwest Arkansas? A bunch of old male pilots drinking coffee. So in walks me, a cute, slender, 25 year old young lady and I say: "Where am I?" The men are a little baffled and one replies "You are in Neosho, Missouri". "Neosho?, I'm supposed to be in Joplin, but the radio quit working." "Well, Joplin is just up the road, ma'am, you could have just followed the highway."

"Is there a pay phone around here?" I ask. "On the wall." replies the older man. I call up Clayton. "Clayton, this airplane is broken." "What's wrong?" he asks. "The radio has quit working and I had to land in Neosho!" "You could have followed the road to get to Joplin." He says. "I'm lost now and you need to come and get me because I can't find my way back to Fayetteville."

"Charlene", he says, "Can you please get in the airplane and fly home?" "Okay, I said, but I'm mad and I hope I don't get lost."

So there I go, back to Fayetteville. I pass Rogers, Bentonville, Springdale, and finally I see Fayetteville. Cessna 16u cleared to land, runway 16. 16u.