Rushing to get airborne

Over my entire aviation career there were three times I remember having to deal with landing gear problems, first instructing in T–38s in the U.S. Air Force, the third time while flight testing the Bombardier Global Express, but this second flight was by far the most memorable.

I was an engineer and pilot for what was then the Pawnee Division of Cessna Aircraft, located adjacent to McConnell Air Force Base (IAB) in Wichita, Kansas. At that time, the production line for single-engine Cessnas was still at the Pawnee plant. Part of my job included service testing modifications to existing aircraft models or new models early in their production. These tests typically involved cross-country flights just to put time on the aircraft to see if any issues needed to be addressed early in the production cycle.

One of the airplanes I service tested was the then-newest Cessna light twin, the T303 Crusader, serial no. 0001, which was built at the Pawnee plant. Prior to service testing the T303, Cessna had modified a 310 by installing the turbocharged Continental engines that would be used on the T303. I flew several hours in the 310 engine testbed while the prototype T303 was being built and flight tested. Once the T303 was certified, I jumped at the chance to service test the first production T303.

I was scheduled for a late afternoon flight in the T303. I didn’t bother to check the weather with Flight Service even though I knew from my car radio that a line of thunderstorms had started to develop northwest of Wichita. As I drove over to the Pawnee Delivery Center, I could see the sky to the northwest starting to turn dark, but I convinced myself I could complete a short flight before the storms became a problem and proceeded to takeoff to the north from the Pawnee plant delivery center runway at Cessna Aircraft Field (CEA).

Climbing out after takeoff, I could see the sky to the northwest was starting to turn uglier with a gust front kicking up dust. I raised the gear and started a turn to the east when I was buffeted by those gusty winds caused by the outflow from that line of thunderstorms. I now realized that the thunderstorms were closer and moving faster than I had anticipated. I made a quick decision to reenter the pattern and get back on the ground as soon as possible.

After turning back to a downwind, I selected gear down, and nothing happened—Murphy’s Law comes to mind. I did not get three green lights or any other gear down indication, such as external noise or increased drag. I cycled the gear handle and still could not get the lights. The Cessna Aircraft Field runway is nontowered, so there was no tower from which someone might do a visual check of my gear status, and the sky was getting darker by the minute.

I decided it would be safer to put distance between me and that line of thunderstorms before dealing with the gear problem. I turned to the southeast, in a direction opposite the thunderstorms, with the hope that I could outrun them and eventually get the gear down. I remember thinking I could fly south into Oklahoma, if necessary, as I learned to fly there and knew the airports. My next idea was to continue in the direction of Strother Field (WLD), about 30 nautical miles southeast of Wichita. Cessna had a plant there, and I could get the T303 hangared.

Now that I had a plan and was hopefully outrunning the storm, I cycled the gear handle again and used the emergency extension and was able to get three green. What a relief that I wasn’t going to damage the first production T303 by having to land gear up.

Now it was just a race to stay ahead of the storm and get the airplane on the ground. I landed at Strother just in time to get the T303 safely in Cessna’s hangar before the storms hit. As it turns out, the storms spawned multiple tornados, damaging wind, and hail across the Wichita area. After an hour or so, the line of storms passed through the Strother area, and I flew the T303 back to the Pawnee plant, electing to leave the gear down en route.

I later learned that my wife had to take shelter with our 1-year-old son, Adam, and our Irish Setter in the basement of our home because of the tornados and high winds. She knew I had gone flying but had no idea what had happened to me, as this was well before cellphones made communication easy.

I don’t remember finding out what caused the gear malfunction, but I did follow up with additional successful flights in the T303. Looking back, it was the reverse of get-home-itis, in that I was rushing to get airborne to get experience in Cessna’s newest aircraft. Having flown in the Oklahoma and Kansas areas for many years, I was well aware of thunderstorms and the necessity to avoid them and would normally not attempt a flight if thunderstorms were forecast. But the opportunity to fly the T303 clouded (pun intended) my judgment. I should have gotten a weather briefing and then made the correct choice to stay on the ground and sit out the pending storm.

Robert Odgers is a former U.S. Air Force T–38 instructor pilot and retired Honeywell test pilot. With more than 7,000 hours logged, he has been flying for 60 years.