Loading ...I obtained my pilot’s license in November of 1987, flying a ’68 Cessna 152 I’d purchased specifically for flight training (call sign Whisky Hotel Tango). I was an avid fisherman and lake ice set up very early that year and before Christmas we had a solid eight inches of clear blue ice with no snow. I started to fly in on wheels to catch the last of the season.
One day after a day’s fishing with a buddy, we prepared to leave. I completed the checklist and walkaround, started the engine and checked the magnetos. Only one was functioning! I explained the situation to my pal and relayed our two alternatives: stay overnight on the ice and attempt to contact any aircraft that overflew or take of with one mag. He definitively did not want to stay so off we went with the single mag. I circled the lake while gaining much more altitude than normal to provide a longer glide path in event of engine failure.
We cruised along eventually at altitude until I unthinkingly instituted my usual practice: after reaching altitude and stabilized flight for some time I would recheck the magnetos, ‘just in case’. I had forgotten about the failed mag and the motor quit. My friend nearly shit himself, started to panic immediately! Of course I realized my error and switched the mag back on: no harm no foul, right?
He swore evermore that I had done it on purpose to frighten him, I couldn’t convince him otherwise. 🙂