Tag Archives: Dave Nichol’s Prop It Up

Prop It Up: A Day With Aspen Airways

Guest Editor Dave Nichols

A Day With Aspen Airways

By Dave Nichols

The Convair 580 lurched to the left followed by the nose bobbing up and down, then a quick unexpected jab to the right.  How much abuse could this airliner take?  And we were just taxiing…  Seriously, though, Aspen Airways Convair-Liners took a daily pounding over the Rocky Mountains and came back for more, year after year.

Being intrigued by Aspen’s (AP) operation, I put in for jumpseat authority in September 1977.  Linking up with the flight crew at the Aspen hangar in Denver, I met captain Bill Rosquist.  An immediately likeable person, Bill was in his mid-30s, slim with sandy hair.  He introduced me to the 580 Convair that would be assigned the Denver (DEN)-Aspen (ASE) round trips for most of the day:  N73133.

Copyright Photo: DDM Photos – Dave Nichols Collection. Convair 580 N73133 (msn 70) rests between flights at Los Angeles. The airliner at this time wears the 1972 two-tone blue scheme. It would later wear United Express colors.

Since it’s “all about the airplanes”, Bill told me the history of this airliner.  Manufacturers Serial Number 70, N73133 had been originally purchased and operated by United Airlines in 1953.  One of the last Convair 340s flying with UA, Tex Johnston Inc. purchased the airplane in 1968.  That company modified it to a 580 but it was a bare-bones conversion with no flight director, updated avionics nor updated panel.  N73133 then went through two owners and some desert storage when liberated by Aspen in 1975.  The aircraft had always kept its original N number.  This Convair-Liner was kind of an orphan with AP.  Not equipped like the other 580s in the fleet – purchased from Allegheny and Frontier – N73133 was used almost exclusively on the DEN-ASE run.  Today, the airplane was still in the older color scheme of white fuselage with orange cheatline, the last to be repainted.  The other nine 580s were resplendent in the super sharp aspen tree leaf design.

Aspen Airways 2-tone logo

The summer and fall are quieter months for Aspen Airways.  The airline was adept at wet or dry leasing their excess capacity to other carriers during the slack months.  Aspen was also dabbling in scheduled Lake Tahoe and Yellowstone National Park flights from California locations.  Two other 580s were rotated into Denver-Aspen service this month and they were at the ready in Denver:  N5814, an ex-Allegheny machine and N73126, a former Frontier aircraft.

I would experience three DEN-ASE round-trips today with captain Bill and N73133.  I started at 9:00a.m. and would finish at 2:30 p.m.  The 110-mile flight took 40 minutes and was flown directly over the mountains; such was the climb performance of the marvelous 580.  The turnaround time in Aspen was 25 minutes and at Denver-Stapleton a quick 15.  The captain, first officer, flight attendant and I taxied the 50-seater from the hangar to the terminal to start the day’s operation.  During my initial cockpit scan I could easily see the economy of this particular aircraft’s conversion.  The flight deck layout and goodies did not even compare to the Allegheny 580s I was familiar with.  Boarding was quick and basic through a lower level non-jet bridge concourse.  Eleven people joined us and we briskly taxied to the active runway.  Flaps set at 15-degrees.  A reduced power take-off was made.  Yes, reduced power, just like the big-boy jets.

During the initial climb, Bill explained that the airplane would need only six minutes to be high enough to clear the mountain peaks which run north and south on the west side of Denver.  The east side of town is flat prairie.  The skies were completely clear and cobalt blue – it was a great day for flying over the Continental Divide.

One never tires of watching and feeling the Convair 580 perform.  It’s like a sled dog musher behind 12 well-trained and fed Alaskan Huskies.  When you holler “lets go” the experience is always enriching.  Our 580 was climbing at 2500 feet per minute showing 185 knots indicated airspeed.  It was purring.  As soon as the Convair left 14,000 feet, we were vectored westbound to intercept the airway.  Once level at 20,000 feet, our indicated airspeed ticked up to 240 knots yielding a true airspeed of 290 knots.  The airspeed indicator needle was in the yellow arc.

Carrying on a conversation in the 580 is doable; it’s not as loud as the 440.  Bill reminded me that the airframe of a 580 is pretty much original Convair 340/440.  Our speed was much faster than originally performed in the recip version but the design was able to withstand it.  Even in the mid-70s, Convair 580s had ten years of exposure on them.  There was an Achilles Heel:  turbulence.  If mountain waved induced turbulence was encountered at an intensity of “severe”,  he would have to throttle back to 170 knots.  Bill added: “We Always get knocked around on this route but I can maintain 240 knots until it gets nasty.”

At 40-miles west of Denver it started.  Even though the skies were incredibly clear, the turbulence was ever present.  I could see the great Continental Divide ahead through the windshield; a devil’s backbone of north-south mountains clustered tightly together, all peaking around 14,200 feet.  We had been flying over mountains already but the great divide is the mother lode.  Even though we were 5,000 feet above the peaks, there was no immunity.  The area was sprinkled with the carcasses of unfortunate airplanes that did not make it over the ridge or through a few mountain passes.  I also knew that directly off the right wing, near Loveland Pass, was the final resting place of a chartered Martin 404 that ended most of the lives of the Wichita State University (Kansas) football team a few years earlier.

The bumps were mostly hard and jolting.  Deep potholes in the airway pummeled us at irregular intervals.  Clouds would actually have helped the crew know more about the location and severity of the turbulence.  Rocky mountain-based pilots know how to read clouds.  Occasionally we experienced that thermal drop where the bottom falls out and everything goes zero-G for several seconds.  The flight attendant said that’s when some white knuckle passengers start upchucking.  Can you imagine what the Frontier F/As went through with a whole propeller fleet crisscrossing the Rockies?

North of Aspen, captain Bill banked the Convair to the left and set up for the visual approach to runway 15.  We would have a 40-degree crosswind at 11 knots.  Bill turned his head and with a quick grin said:  “No one enjoys flying into Aspen-Pitkin but it’s not terrifying.  You can see how close the mountain bluffs are to the airport.”  The first officer pointed to two locations of former wrecks.  The shards of aluminum and Plexiglas were frequently visible, winking from ledges.  Aspen Airways crunched-in their first Convair 240 (N270L msn157) when the gear collapsed on this airport in 1970.  Trying to approach and land from the southeast requires a steep descent.  It was done more recently with the BAe146 jet but in the 70s it was not the norm.  I could see some of the ski runs which are powdery white and contoured in winter but now were rocky and brown.  Captain Rosquist made a top notch landing using 28-degree flaps.  The 580 does best touching down with only a slight nose-up flare.  Reverse pitch is so productive it’s like throwing out an anchor.  We deplaned and walked around the ramp.

The turnaround provided Bill a chance to give me a condensed history of Aspen Airways.  Founded in 1968 with a base in Denver and a sole route of DEN-ASE.  The first aircraft was the ill-fated CV240 purchased from Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad.  A replacement 240 – N91237 (msn 140) – was hastily purchased in 1970.  The model 240 was barely suitable for the mountainous routes and loads, so CV340/440s were added from 1970-72.  All were ex-Delta.  The recip fleet totaled four and they gave solid service up to 1978.  At the time of this story, AP was using the piston Convairs on charter work away from Colorado.

Copyright Photo: Bruce Drum. Formerly operated by Delta Air Lines in the Deep South, Convair 440-38 N4816C (msn 118) (converted from a 340-38) moved west to serve with Aspen Airways. N4816C is parked at Aspen, Colorado in the summer of 1973.

Needless to say, the 580 Convair was the machine they had been praying for.  CV580s were purchased in 1973 and would eventually number 13, with aircraft being bought and sold as needed. Aspen experimented in scheduled routes to various Colorado seasonal ski areas.  Charters were quite successful.  By 1977, the fleet was at eight airplanes, with four coming from Allegheny and three from Frontier at more than a million bucks apiece.

Time to press on, we enplaned 15 pax and rocketed out of ASE.  Taking the safe way, we retraced our inbound track starting with a take-off on runway 33.  Flight 418 would have a snack service and on afternoon runs the airplane offered wine and cheese to the folks in the back; very popular and unexpected from a small airline.

Aspen Airways, at the time, was truly the air bridge to the City of Aspen.  A long and twisting mountain car drive was reduced to a scant 40 minutes on board AP.  In 1977, the walk-up fare was $32 one-way.  Blocks of tickets were available to locals for a nice discount.  Being a fan of old timetables, I noticed that AP only raised fares an average of 4% a year.

Aspen Airways 1980 Route Map

1980 Route Map: Aspen Airways expanded outside of its traditional Denver-Aspen Colorado route west to California with its growing Convair 580 fleet in 1979. Due to Deregulation, Air California, PSA and United Airlines abandoned a lot of local routes, especially to Lake Tahoe. Burbank became the short-lived hub of the West Coast operations.

The well muscled 580 is a kerosene binge drinker, even by 1977 standards.  Three hundred gallons an hour goes into the burners at 20,000-foot cruise.  At low altitudes, the beast swigs 420 gallons every 60 minutes.  This is about double the avgas a CV440 goes through.  The piston sister has a max gross weight of 49,700 pounds.  The 580 tops out at 53,200 pounds.  Wide-open throttle garners 2500 horsepower for the 440 and a whopping 3750 for the beefy 580.  The 440 cruises around 190 knots indicated, with the 580 blowing by at a cool 250.  Is it worth the much higher purchase price and fuel costs?  In the 60s and 70s, the answer was a resounding “yes”.  By 1985, it was “no”, even for many of the freight dogs.

The return flight to Denver placed us going in the same direction as the flow of air.  Once near the Continental Divide I could feel the airplane surfing the invisible waves.  After a while, you could sense climbing over a swell, riding the crest and then rushing down the forward face: “hanging ten” on a 51,000 pound piece of aluminum.  This was all cool and such but occasionally the Convair would sink into a trough between two large waves – hello breakfast.  From the cockpit, I could easily hear the passengers groan under the force of negative Gs.

As an epilogue, Aspen Airways became a United Express affiliate in 1986, still operating those incredible 580s.  N73133 was donated to a museum in Alaska in 1986 but was later freshened up and put back in service with Kelowna Flightcraft in Canada as a freighter during 1992.  Conversion to fire fighting air tanker took place around 2000 where it was flown by Conair as C-FKFM.  Air Wisconsin purchased Aspen Airways in 1991 and quickly disposed of the Convair-Liners, bringing in their BAe 146s.   The other former Aspen 580s found work right away:  nine of the thirteen were still active around the world up to 2003.

Copyright Photo: Jacques Guillem Collection. BAE 146-100 N462AP (msn E1017) is seen in action at the Denver base. The jetliner is painted in the orange version of the 1971 livery.

Many flying people will remember Aspen Airways fondly and perhaps a little scarily.  I’ll bet you have an Aspen Airways story, too.  The giant rolling river of air moving eastward over the Rocky Mountains is still there, every minute of every day, waiting to challenge whatever flying machine wishes to traverse.

Write Dave Nichols at propitupblog@gmail.com

Read Dave previous articles:

Nostalgic Tickets: CLICK HERE

Spring Break with Lake Central: CLICK HERE

What Allegheny Meant To Me: CLICK HERE

A Day with Southern Airways: CLICK HERE

Mohawk’s Incredible Weekends Unlimited: CLICK HERE

Aspen Airways: AG Slide Show

Daily Airline News: AG World Airline News

1985 Route Map: In 1984 the company entered into a market agreement with United Airlines and began to add more feeder routes from and to the Denver hub, abandoning the West Coast operation. On September 1, 1986 Aspen Airways became a full United Express carrier and therefore abandoned its unique and colorful liveries for the traditional United brand.

Aspen Airways 7.1985 Route Map

Prop It Up: Nostalgic Tickets

Guest Editor Dave Nichols

Nostalgic Tickets

By Dave Nichols

My grandfather, Carle Morton, was an aviation pioneer.  If you tried to look him up on the internet, his name is not there.  (It was a kind gesture, though).  He was a very early cobalt, platinum, uranium level frequent flier, from the 1930s on.  Grandad became a true av fan, also.  His position as sales manager for a four-state area kept him traveling every week.  He rapidly chose air transportation to become more time efficient in an era when very few businessmen thought that way.  While his counterparts and competitors were on a train or behind the wheel on two-lane highways, Carle Morton was already there directing his local salesmen and closing contracts.  He had the ability to manage men and sell, the attributes of any successful sales manager.  Mobility and effectiveness justified the high cost of airline flying.

Even though some early airliners were rickety and safety records could make people pale, Grandad flew them all.  There were wooden Fokker Trimotors of TWA, squat Curtis Condor bi-planes of American, converted Lockheed Lodestars of Continental, Fords, Lockheed 10s, Fairchild 71s and Stinson A models.  The list went on and on.  Did you know the fabric covered, Stinson A trimotor had 2 and 1 seating?  The 1930s and early 40s was a time period when life insurance policies were voided if one flew on an airliner.  Passengers had to purchase aviation accident insurance at the airport.  Remember seeing photos of Mutual of Omaha counters?  He was a fearless flier but he bought the weekly policies to protect Grandma.

Carle saved his airline tickets, all of them.  That practice was basically for the Internal Revenue Service because Uncle Sam routinely audited traveling business people with larger expense accounts, just like today.  Long after the IRS would have been interested, he kept his airline tickets and folders.    They became living diaries with all sorts of notes written on the ticket folders.  Packets of tickets and folders were bundled by year.  When I was a boy, he would let me scrounge through those rubber band stacks of aviation history.  Flights on ghost airlines like Wisconsin Central, All American Airways, Chicago & Southern, Colonial, and his favorite: Pennsylvania Central Airlines.  He explained to me the evolution of air carriers, that “Whiskey Central” became North Central, AAA changed its name to Allegheny, C&S merged into Delta, Colonial was absorbed by Eastern, and PCA transmogrified into Capital.  My learning curve went into orbit.

He flew Capital Airlines more than any carrier.  Carle was flying them in the beginning when the corporate name was Pennsylvania Airlines, then modified to Pennsylvania Central Airlines.  He grew right with them.  There was a unique ticket:  Pennsylvania Airlines, 1933, Ford trimotor, Pittsburgh to Cleveland with a stop at Akron.  Yes, he said, the Ford vibrated like a washing machine.  Wow, a Boeing 247 trip on PCA from Harrisburg to Buffalo in 1938 for $11.00.  Grandad really enjoyed the maturity of Capital.  He loved the DC-3, was in awe of the 049 Constellation and even the DC-4 received decent praise.

Grandfather’s frequent use of Capital did not go unnoticed from that airline’s top management.  He had a signed and framed letter from Capital’s president, J. H. Carmichael, thanking him for flying a zillion miles with them.  Can you imagine 4 to 6 segments every week for 25 unbroken years!  Carle Morton’s picture appeared in a 1953 Capital print ad touting the benefits of using a city ticket office.  Grandad was on a first name basis with station employees at 10 locations.

I flipped through pristine ticket jackets and stubs from All American Airways (precursor to Allegheny).  Many flights were Pittsburgh to Altoona, Johnstown, Williamsport, Wilkes-Barre and Harrisburg.  All DC-3s, each segment averaged $5.00.  All American’s DC-3s were newer than most and he appreciated that.

For nine months of the year, Carle’s Monday morning started with a Capital DC-4 from Erie,  Pennsylvania to Pittsburgh.  Watching that “four motor” lumber off the 4900 foot runway sent chills up my spine.  Capital later took the DC-4s off the Erie schedule because of marginal runway length.  From PIT, Grandad branched out to three states.  He would work with his sales force in a given area for several weeks then another territory would get a visit from Mr. Morton.  Grandad would come home every Friday evening, almost always on a Capital DC-3.  I leaned over the airport fence,  straining for a glimpse of the nav lights and listening for the first sounds of radial engines in the distance.  The passengers would emerge, all attired in suits, hats and overcoats.  This was the incubator of my aviation life.

He was not a pilot but rather a pure participant in the aviation experience.  Grandad pointed out to me the symphony of tugs, fuel trucks, ticket agents, dispatch, line mechanics and even the “honey wagon”.  Each piece had to fit in order to make it all work.  He introduced me to uniformed stewards who offered in-flight passengers Chiclets from silver trays.  I remember a visit to Capital’s operations in 1956 and listening to the ceaseless teletype machines and watching the ops guys place grease pencil markings on clear Plexiglas.

My grandfather kept a sort of flight diary on the backs of ticket folders.  He reminded himself that the Pittsburgh airport had great chocolate malts.  Morgantown and Wheeling,  West Virginia had no food at their airports.  Detroit-Willow Run had a good shoeshine stand where the price was only a dime.  He jotted down the names and phone numbers of taxi cabs and their rates.  Places to eat, and those restaurants to pass up, graced the borders of his ticket jackets.

There were some long trips sprinkled here and there within the ticket bundles:  United DC-4s and -6s to the West, TWA 049 and 649 Connies to Indianapolis, Kansas City and Albuquerque, and an all-day multi-stop flight to Atlanta on an Eastern Convair 440.  Here was a five-stop trip on a North Central DC-3 to the upper peninsula of Michigan.

Despite all the business flying he did and all the enjoyment he got out of aviation, when it came time for a vacation trip during the 1940s and 50s, he and grandma would usually drive.  Grandad was frugal and there weren’t many bargain fares available then.  He believed that aviation improved his business life but was too extravagant for personal vacations.  Isn’t that ironic?  If frequent flier programs had been in existence, the two of them could have flown free on all their vacations.

Grandad would occasionally plan a business trip routing in order to fly on a particular airline or aircraft for the first time.  He was on a number of “first flights”.  Capital Viscounts were a favorite of his.  The 745Ds came on-line in 1955.  First flight folders were found from Detroit to Pittsburgh and Buffalo-Detroit.  Carle would go out of his way to set up a Viscount trip.  Vickers had such a futuristic jump on everyone else.   He flew Capital right up until they merged into United in 1961.

Copyright Photo: Bruce Drum. The Mid Atlantic Air Museum (Reading, PA) restored this Vickers Viscount 797 (N7471, msn 233) in the early 1990s in the 1947 livery of Capital Airlines but it has since been grounded. The turboprop airliner is seen at Washington (National) on July 10, 1993.

He told me many true stories of flying experiences.  His analogies of in-flight drama were sometimes dark but not terrifying.  With no onboard weather radar or air traffic control radar, accidental penetration into nasty weather happened.  Low and slow airliners got the worst of it.  I learned of ice being flung off propellers and into the sides of the fuselage.  The DC-3 could carry itself pretty well in icing, he would say.  He spoke of how tough it was on the stewards and stewardesses cleaning up airsick passengers while flying over the Appalachian and Blue Ridge Mountains.  Grandad saw a ramp worker accidently walk into an idling propeller of a DC-4.  The employee was dismembered in front of scores of disbelieving eyes.

Grandfather retired when he was 70, still sharp as a tack.  He continued to fly occasionally on vacation trips.  His first jet flight was in the stack – the black non-fan exhaust of a TWA 707.  Reunions, graduations and weddings were all duly diaried with their appropriate tickets.  He outlived most of his large family of brothers and sister, and his beloved wife.  One by one he would be summoned to the somber occasion of a funeral.  Those later ticket folders bore comments in a shaking handwriting.

When I became a pilot I flew him in light planes.  He and I both enjoyed that immensely.  At age 93, Carle flew to Houston to visit my little family and see my daughter, Carrie, who was named after Grandma.  We went up in a Cessna 172 and later that day I escorted him to the control tower at IAH to observe air traffic action at a big city airport.

Grandad passed away at age 99.  He was incredibly healthy until he was 96; he had been a sprinter in college and maintained an athlete’s regimen.  Carle Morton was a well disciplined yet compassionate and giving man, quick with a laugh.  He was my mentor in so many ways.  Introducing me to  commercial aviation was a life enhancing act for both of us.  Those nostalgic tickets, his tickets, what memories they silently hold.

Write Dave Nichols at propitupblog@gmail.com

Read Dave previous articles:

Spring Break with Lake Central: CLICK HERE

What Allegheny Meant To Me: CLICK HERE

A Day with Southern Airways: CLICK HERE

Mohawk’s Incredible Weekends Unlimited: CLICK HERE

Prop It Up: Spring Break with Lake Central

Guest Editor Dave Nichols

Spring Break with Lake Central

Ah, Spring; better yet, Spring Break.  College freshman year, spit and vinegar, time to take it easy for a week in 1965.  I couldn’t afford to traipse off to Florida but a break in any form was good and it would give me plenty of time to hang around my local Cessna dealer.  I would kick it off with a flight home since I loved big piston twins and would attempt to talk Dad into paying for a ticket.  He was a tough sell and a non-aviation aficionado.  The bus or train was good enough for me, he said, often.  Oh, I forgot to mention that my college was only 110 miles from home.  Dad figured it was almost close enough to walk.

College was near Cleveland, Ohio and home was Erie, Pennsylvania: that meant Allegheny Airlines territory.  Their Martin 202s and Convair 440s were plying the Newark – Cleveland and Washington (National) – Cleveland runs which made mandatory stops at ERI.  The 202s both intrigued and terrified me at the same time, with their flame belching out the stack or the intake (each engine would take turns).  Oil would constantly drool out of every crevice on the nacelle.  But I was hooked on the airline biz and had already planned to go into it after graduation.

CLE-ERI was a whopping 40 minute flight and I was looking for a way to increase the  time and experience.  I envied my classmates who actually flew somewhere beyond a half-hour.  I discovered that I could fly from Cleveland to Akron on a Lake Central Airlines DC-3, then change planes and continue on a Lake Central Convair 340 through Youngstown and on to Erie.  Allegheny’s fare was $10 but Lake Central said they would take me for $12.75.  What a deal!  I would get 1:20 in the air plus a plane change and two stops in the middle for only $2.75 more!  Lake Central didn’t comprehend my aviation excessiveness but was happy to collect the $12.75 and I probably became the first person to fly CLE-ERI through the triangle of CAK and YNG.   My parents would never understand so I just told them I was coming in on Lake Central – they didn’t keep up with which airlines flew where and probably wouldn’t ask.

Copyright Photo: Christian Volpati Collection. Lake Central Airlines operated a total of 23 venerable Douglas DC-3s including the former military variants, including the pictured DC-3A-363 N41831 (msn 3275) painted in the 1960 color scheme.

The departure evening was at hand and I just knew this would be a memorable experience.  The DC-3s were about gone from airline service so this made the first leg important to me.  I still remember that night like it happened five years ago; even one of the N numbers is still tattooed on the aviation side of my brain.  Stationary front which meant low ceiling, drizzle and fog.  Lots of fog.  My 6:00 p.m. departure to Akron was way behind.  The DC-3 was slogging through the crud and was still somewhere in Indiana.  Every airline’s schedules were in tatters.  It was getting dark, now.  After two hours of delay, Lake Central had a Convair 340 flight make it in to Cleveland.  They added a flag stop to Akron and took us on.  I was deflated to lose the DC-3 ride but happy that at least we were moving.

Please click on the map for the full size.

July 1965 Lake Central Route Map.

The inside of the Convair-Liner was damp, overly warm, and completely full of 44 worried travelers.  Our takeoff from CLE was uneventful and we entered the clouds just after the gear hit the wells.  The air was smooth and the twenty-five minute segment to CAK was routine.  We never got above the solid overcast.  The approach took us to minimums and the captain had just started to apply power for a go-around when he saw the strobe lights and plunked in for a landing.  The ramp was sprinkled with Viscounts, DC-6s and Convairs.  I deplaned.

Lake Central Schedules from Akron-Canton:

The Akron-Canton terminal was a sea of college students and businessmen.  Collegians from at least six universities were camped out all over the gate areas.  A few large transistor radios echoed out the latest Beatles hits, especially “I Feel Fine”.  I’ll never forget the irony.   Many had been there for five hours and the sad stories were growing.  Some passengers were diverted into CAK and were waiting to see what their carriers were going to do.  My LC connection was the epic voyage, flight 37, which began in Indianapolis and stopped at Dayton, Columbus, Akron, Youngstown and Erie enroute to Buffalo.  This flight was impossible to keep on schedule in instrument weather.

Still an aviation novice but resourceful enough to call the control tower, I found that CAK was a temporary landable oasis as all airports north were now completely fogged in.  Erie was up and down, so there was hope.  My spirits were not buoyed when I saw my usual Erie-bound Allegheny Convair 440 taxi in.  Allegheny didn’t even fly to Akron!  Erie was too foggy and Cleveland socked in behind them, so they diverted to CAK and would bus the passengers on to ERI.  I was deeply concerned but still hoping for my $12.75 worth of flying.

Copyright Photo: Christian Volpati. Sister aircraft and former United Airlines Convair 340-31 N73149 (msn 163) rests between flights at Baltimore (Friendship International Airport). LC acquired the airliner on February 27, 1961.

At nine-thirty, Lake Central 37 pulled up to the gate.  It was N73123 (msn 42).  The continuation of the flight was a “go”.  However, the agent told us Erie didn’t look good at the moment but Youngstown had landing minimums.  We boarded, about 10 of us, the remainder of the Convair was filled with through passengers.

Something was not right when I entered the cabin.  The air was stuffy with a whiff of body odor.  The passengers looked ashen.  I asked around and was peppered with stories of weather delays at each stop and mechanical problems.  The left engine had begun throwing sparks out the exhaust port enroute to Columbus.  Since the exhaust outlet is over ten feet away from the engine on a CV340, that’s some powerful sparks.  The engine was worked on but a volley of sparks reoccurred on the approach to CAK.  Eyeballs along the left side had been pressed against the windows.  I’m not an ultra brave soul but since no mechanic examined the bowels of the engine at Akron, I figured it was just an overly rich mixture and carbon flakes were being created and blown out.  I dutifully took a window seat on the right side.   Sitting next to me was a female co-ed about my age taking her first flight, very quiet but I figured she would be good conversation as the flight unfolded.  Besides, I could teach her all the great stuff about Convairs…

Our aircraft was in the pre-takeoff area a long time.  Each engine was run up twice.  We were the only airplane out there.  Flight 37 finally headed down the center stripe and the engines roared.   Water spray from the fog being chewed up whipped off the propeller tips.  The visibility was very short, quite dark and drizzly.  It was a verrry long, extended take-off run.  Passengers on the left side suddenly gasped as orange and red sparklies streamed by their windows.  I didn’t know the exact length of Akron’s runway but I was aware the asphalt was modest and a sheer drop-off awaited any luckless aircraft at the end.  Relief, the nose wheel raised.  At that precise moment, just like every simulator check ride you ever heard of, one of the engines started to miss.  It was the right engine, the good engine!  The #2 radial was stuttering badly.  I could see out of the corner of the window the red runway end lights zipping toward us.  N73123 wallowed into the air.  The Convair sagged like one of Jimmy Doolittle’s B-25s taking off from a carrier deck.  The end of the runway flashed under us.  All I could see in the white blaze of the landing lights were trees.  Tall trees of every specie tried to duck from our assault.  We were below the tops of some of them.  I swear I could hear the peaks of pines brushing against our main gear tires.  At this juncture, most everyone screamed.  The young woman next to me fainted.  I can still hear the air escaping from her mouth as she slumped in her seat.  My colon begged to be emptied.

The beleaguered Convair stabilized after the gear came up.  The right engine was not shut down. I’m convinced if it had been, we would have discovered why tree trunks win against aluminum.   Once the power was reduced to climb configuration, the right engine smoothed out, much to everyone’s prayers.  We were now bolstered from “sure death” mode to “maybe we can walk away with only injuries.”   The CV340 climbed slowly through the black murk, the left engine still vomiting sparks but down to a shower a minute instead of continuous.  No PA announcement was ever made.

The aircraft made four turns in a holding pattern above Youngstown.  The first ILS approach resulted in a missed approach.  Everyone bit their nails when the engines were pushed to full power.  I was an emotional wreck, now.  My face was flushed; I could no longer be a symbol of strength for my neighbor who awakened briefly.  I was wickedly reminded of the old pilot psalm that reads:  “It is better to be on the ground wishing you were in the air than to be flying and wishing you were on the ground.”  To our astonishment, the engines behaved this time and climbed us back to approach altitude.

We landed on the second attempt.  There were no movie-like cheers from the passengers.  Everyone was wrung out.  We sat like zombies until the airstair door opened.  The pilots certainly had enough.  Lake Central bused us and I arrived home at 2:00 a.m.  Even Disney couldn’t give you an experience like that for $12.75.

Epilogue:  Every time I came across N73123 in the field I would always smile a half smile and just shake my head.  This airplane went on to a full and very productive life.  Converted to a 580 by Lake Central in 1967, absorbed into Allegheny in 1968 as N5843, then to Mountainwest Airlines, Nor-Fly (Norway) as a freighter, and to Canada with Kelowna Flightcraft.  She was finally exported to New Zealand in 1997 where she was current with Air Freight NZ as ZK-KFH.  That airframe logbook is very thick.

Write Dave Nichols at propitupblog@gmail.com

Read Dave previous articles:

What Allegheny Meant To Me: CLICK HERE

A Day with Southern Airways: CLICK HERE

Mohawk’s Incredible Weekends Unlimited: CLICK HERE

Lake Central Airlines: 

Frameable Color Prints and Posters: 

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Prop It Up: A Day with Southern Airways

Today I have the privilege to introduce a new Guest Editor to the World Airline News. My friend Dave Nichols has joined the team joining Joel Chusid and Jay Selman. Dave was fortunate to have worked as both a professional pilot and air traffic controller. He has been writing aviation stories and doing research for over 30 years.  He started with North American Aviation News (NAAN) back in 1980. Freelance work followed in Propliner, then Airways, and a column in Airliners magazine that ran for 11 years. Dave’s favorite airplanes are Martin 404s, Convair 440s,  580s, SAAB 340s, and de Havilland Canada Dash-8s. I am sure you will enjoy Dave’s Prop It Up columns. Bruce Drum.

Guest Editor Dave Nichols

Guest Editor Dave Nichols

Prop It Up

A Day with Southern Airways

I just knew today would be a good day.  A chance to get back into the cockpit of a Martin 404 was always met with high enthusiasm.  I would not be flying it but jumpseat was a clear second.  My friend, Captain Frank Jacob of Southern Airways, had called to inform me that the long, multi-stop trips were coming to an end.  If I wanted to experience a maximum endurance day I was to join him in New Orleans, soon.  This was the spring of 1974.

The confirmation made, I hopped a Texas International Convair 600 from Houston to New Orleans (MSY).  I would join Frank during day #3 of a 4-day workweek.  Memphis-based Jacob and his crew were on a 4 days on / 3 days off cycle.  Checking in with the SO ops agent at MSY, the employee found it borderline lunacy that I would be taking a 6-stop “ancient airliner” flight to Memphis when a 1-stop DC-9 left at about the same time.   I sheepishly explained that getting to MEM was not the real objective – it was to spend a day with a noble metal beast and an aircrew I liked.  He smiled a little bit and murmured that I was too young to go off the deep end over old airplanes.  I found from the station sign-in log that I was the only non-SO jumpseat rider on a 404 in over a year!

I linked up with Frank and first officer Skip Wilbur.  First, we went to the employee cafeteria because on this day of the week they served very good red beans and rice.  An hour later, we walked out to the ramp where N147S was still making metallic cool down ticks from her inbound trip.  This particular Martin, serial number 14161 and ship #107, was a favorite of mine.  A really good-looking airplane.  At this point in time, SO was down to 11 Martins flying the line.  DC-9-10s and -30s were rapidly replacing them.  Southern management did not embrace the 580, 600, YS-11 or FH-227 turboprops.  They elected to transition from the piston 404 into pure jets.  The decision was made to take good care of the Martinliners as long as they could.  (N147S would stay in the fleet until the very end in 1978).

We were about to embark on a real odyssey.  This trip epitomizes the local service point-to-point “hit all the stations you can” approach to air commerce.  It wears everyone out but it’s an adventure to watch the air and ground crews interact.  Air Traffic Control, or the lack of it at tiny stations, was a part of this journey, also.   Southern crews did this routinely every day.  You really need to pull out a map of Mississippi to fully appreciate this world-class zigzag across the state.  All the intermediate stops in this sequence would be in Mississippi.  The route was:  MSY to Hattiesburg (HBG)-Laurel (LUL)-Natchez (HEZ)-Jackson (JAN)-Greenwood (GWO)-Oxford (UOX) and finally Memphis.  The flight number was SO836.  We left New Orleans at 2:55 p.m. and were scheduled to arrive Memphis at 7:40 p.m.  Four hours and forty-five minutes of noise, thumps, landing gear cycles, scratchy radio frequencies, bad coffee and patience.  You see, patience is the supreme attribute when piloting recip airliners on daylong outings.  Southern taught their crews well.  Many young pilots flying for third level carriers who would later fly these 404s couldn’t tolerate the airplanes.  They never learned the patience required and the non-abusive touch to steer old iron around a route system.

Hattiesburg and Laurel were small airports, as one would expect.  No control towers, limited runway length and tiny shoebox terminals.  These towns were only 30 miles apart yet SO served them both.  HBG and several other small cities on our run today would not enjoy airline service when Southern finally pulled out.  Air Traffic Control clearances for the next leg were issued just before we flew the final approach, so ATC could hear us and vice-versa.  ATC gave a “void if not off” time to our flight.  We said goodbye to the Air Traffic Control Center and landed.  I only remember two or three people who got on and off.  The pilots constantly looked at their watches while on the ground at these two mini-stations.  Missing the assigned release window literally meant the station manager would have to phone the Center or relay through ARINC radio and obtain a new release time for the waiting Martin.

The 100-mile run westbound to Natchez was a Deep South sightseeing pleasure.  River bottom farmland gave way to wooded rolling hills and then a descent to the HEZ airport right near the wide Mississippi River.   Natchez was a quaint, old south, riverboat town with an airport terminal that looked like a columned antebellum mansion.

I enjoyed helping Frank and Skip whenever I could.  One task I came in handy for was to open the forward cargo door.  The jumpseat mounted in the entryway to the cockpit, between the pilots and about three feet behind them.  Frank would look out his side window and if he saw a tug heading for the #1 engine he would call out “coming forward”.  I would untangle myself from the miniature seat, remove the escape slide activation bar and open the left front cargo door.  In the Martinliner, a freight area separates the pilots from the passengers.  The time at the gate averaged ten minutes at the outlying stations.

Not surprisingly, rural folks did not object to the Martin.  Remember, this was a large airplane for a 40-seater.  Stand up headroom and stretch out legroom gave the passenger some real amenities.  Small market passengers were happy to have this air service.  This customer acceptance of aircraft type was severely strained when SO later replaced the remaining big 404s with tiny, skinny, no lavatory Metroliners.  Sometimes, older is better.

The leg up to Jackson was a quick 70-miles at low altitude.  JAN was a nice airport:  longer runway, control tower with radar approach control, multiple gates, brick terminal and DC-9 service.  Southern was running five DC-9s and four Martins through JAN each day.  Delta was there, too.  This was our only fuel stop, a luxurious 17-minute stay.  It was the only time we left the cockpit.  I made a  quick dash into operations and gulped down a bologna sandwich that had probably been in my bag too long.

On to Greenwood.  I rode in the passenger compartment on this leg, in the last row of seats.  I just wanted to re-experience the sights and sounds from that vantage point.  Mentally fading, I don’t remember anything about this leg except for the tail section sashaying back and forth on the crosswind final approach.  Another zip-zip and we were gone.

A 60-mile dash north to Oxford-University Airport does stay in my mind.  Frank briefed me that SO had a Martin crash at UOX in 1969 (N251S) and that it was the most difficult runway on the system.  Runway 9-27 was 4700 feet, which is somewhat adequate for the 404 but the east end of the runway dropped off in a sheer cliff.  Tall trees loomed, a sprinkling of radio towers just east of the field and a narrow runway spell “heads up” or else.  The real time to worry at this airport was mid-summer with lower wing lift and hot engines gasping for horsepower.  Oxford is the home of the University of Mississippi and is author John Grisham country.  Lining up on runway 27 for final approach, staring at the cliff, the runway looked like an aircraft carrier.

The sun was about half-down when we roared out over the drop-off with the tall trees trying to tickle our belly.  We were Memphis bound.  N147S had performed flawlessly, the weather had been nearly clear and we were on schedule.  When Center switched us over to MEM Approach Control we were quickly shocked back into the world of hub air traffic.  Rapid-fire transmissions zapped through our headsets.  In over four hours of flying, we had not even seen another airliner until now.  We kept our speed up on final to keep pace with the jets, then threw everything out to slow down and land.  Frank steered toward the terminal in the gradual darkness, the landing lights looking very cool as they shown through the propellers.  We taxied to the gates with no jetways.  The R-2800 engines growled softly, their work done until an early morning run to Tupelo.  N147S had performed 14 take-offs and landings today.  Mechanics swarmed over our machine.  It is a lasting tribute to these Southern A&P mechanics that kept the Martins flying as long as they did.

Tomorrow, the three of us would head south in another 404 (N258S) and retrace the same exact route back to New Orleans.  My aluminum friend, N147S, would head east on a three-stopper to Atlanta.  I would say good-bye, and then Frank and Skip would fly the Martin back to MEM and three days off.   This was a wonderful discovering time in my life but also melancholy.  Southern Airways was the last of the large airlines still operating recip transports.  In three blinks the 404s would be gone.

N147S was sold by Southern Airways in March 1978.  It was immediately operated by Florida Airlines and later Southern International during 1981 in full Air Florida Commuter colors and titles. That airline failed in 1982 and the airplane found its way to Oakland, CA in November.  Painted in Air Marianas colors and titles, it was fitted with long range fuel tanks for a ferry flight to Saipan in the Pacific Ocean, which it successfully made! The aircraft apparently operated there for several years and just wore out.   An aviation enthusiast reported seeing it as a stripped down, graffiti covered derelict at Isley Field, Saipan in 1996.  He verified by seeing the data plate.

You can comment on Dave’s new column or contact Dave directly at propitupblog@gmail.com.

Top Copyright Photo: ALPS/Dave Nichols Collection. Martin 404 N147S (msn 14161) joined the Southern Airways fleet on August 28, 1962 and is pictured at the Atlanta maintenance base in February 1978.

Copyright Photo Below: Bruce Drum. N147S with Florida Airlines as the “City of Miami”.

Copyright Photo Below: Bruce Drum. Southern International Airways operated N147S in full Air Florida Commuter colors.

Southern Airways Slide Show: CLICK HERE

Framable Southern Airways prints for sale: CLICK HERE

Copyright Photo Below: Bruce Drum. Sister-ship N141S at the Southern Airways Atlanta maintenance base in the last livery worn by the type with SO. 

Southern Airways May 1, 1974 Route Map (courtesy of Airlinetimetables.com):

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Southern Airways May 1, 1974 Flight Routings (courtesy of Airlinetimetables.com):

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