The Boxcar Blues by Jeff Egerton

Author:Jeff Egerton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: coming of age, adventure, military, history, aviation, great depression

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Barney and Lem departed Grand Junction at eleven o’clock in the morning bound for Denver. They’d seen the weather report that indicated thunderstorm activity in their route of flight, but Barney thought if the storms became a factor, he had plenty of room to circumnavigate the weather system.

As they passed Glenwood Springs darkening skies filled the distant horizon. Barney told Lem, “Plot me a course that’ll take us north of Mt. Powell and then toward Boulder.”

Lem taped a slip to his yoke with a heading of zero-five-zero degrees.

Barney had been on this heading for ten minutes when he said, “This storm is moving right into our flight path. I’m turning further north.”

When he turned, however, the darkening clouds seemed to follow him. He noticed several lightning strikes, which mean thunderstorm activity—an airliner’s worst enemy. Storms like this could spawn severe turbulence and down drafts that could easily slam the Boeing into a mountain like she was a toy.

He said, “This is getting bad, Lem. The tops are too high to go over the storm; we might have to turn around and head back to Glenwood Springs.”

“I think that’s our best bet. Let me get you a heading.”

Barney started a slow turn and said, “Before you do, go back and tell the passengers that we’re turning around due to the weather. We’ll try to land at Glenwood, but we might have set down in Meeker.”

Barney rolled out on a westerly heading and his worst fears were realized; the storm had closed in behind them. He faced a wall of black clouds streaked with lighting and wind-whipped rain. Lem sat down and Barney said, “We’re right in the middle of this thing and it’s building fast. Plot our position and get a heading to the Colorado River. If I can descend into the river valley, we might be able to get under the clouds.” As Barney said this, he knew he was playing Russian Roulette. Making a blind descent in mountainous territory, while in the middle of a violent thunderstorm was risky at best.

In gale force winds Barney fought the control yoke. Lightning flashed and booming thunder filled the airplane, as streaks of St. Elmo’s fire danced across the instrument panel.

Lem poured over a chart for a minute, then shouted, “We should be right over the river valley. Descend on this heading and we can follow the river into Glenwood Springs.”

Barney started a five hundred foot per minute descent. He tried to weave his way around the clouds to maintain some forward visibility. Despite his best efforts, the turbulence continually threw the plane into the clouds where he saw only the driving rain. His grim realization was, the violence of the storm had transformed he and Lem from pilots—into passengers.

The altimeter unwound through ten thousand feet, as Barney fought to keep the plane on a westerly heading. An incredibly loud crash of thunder reverberated through the plane and Barney felt the rudder go slack under the pedals. He yelled, “Lightning strike,

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