Mid Air Collision

During flight training you’re required to plan and fly a long cross-country adventure. You leave from your home airport and travel in a giant triangle stopping at two other airports at least 100 miles from each other. Back in the 80’s GPS did not exist so I used a combination of navigational aids called a VOR and good old-fashioned dead reckoning. Dead reckoning involves using a map to calculate your route and a slide rule to calculate variables such as time and wind speed. It’s not easy, but that’s the point.

This particular cross-country would be a solo flight. My first stop was uneventful and I even found someone with a stamp to sign my logbook proving I was there. The second leg of my adventure was also uneventful. In fact, it was kind of boring because a large easy-to-see freeway connected the two cities. Following the map and making corrections for the upper level winds were easier because of the freeway.

The last leg of the trip should have also been uneventful. My home airport was within site of two very large towers from a power plant. They could be seen for miles. Once at altitude I would have no problem getting them in my sites making my navigation as easy as following a freeway. But easy flying is also boring flying. Making matters worse is that flying in Southern Minnesota means miles upon miles of fields and small towns.

Back then we never had air traffic flight following. Today, depending on their workload, air traffic controllers will monitor your flight and inform you of traffic nearby. It comes in handy over the busy Northern California skies. But this day I was on my own. Rarely did I ever see any traffic. The skies were usually wide open, but not this day.

I was at 5,500 feet when suddenly a large plane appeared climbing up at me. The sun had reflected off his wings giving him away. I quickly turned to the right and immediately lost track of him. I had been making position reports at airports along the way but did not hear him. It was a very close call. I was a bit shaken but I quickly resumed my course. Just as I reached my previous course it happened again. Did we both make a giant circle only to get in each other’s way, again? Once again I quickly banked to the right. Was it another plane? I had no idea.

I regained my course and altitude when it happened a third time. This time I decided to stay at a higher altitude. I regained my course and in about 5 minutes I flew over a gigantic, very reflective tin-roofed turkey barn. It had been an optical illusion. The sun was at the right angle to send a long reflection straight at me on the horizon.

When I returned I told my instructor that I almost had three mid air collisions. “What kind of planes,” he asked. “Two were Butterballs and one was a Jennie-O,” was my reply. I told him about the turkey barns and I almost got laughed out of the FBO.