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Nome, AK (Dexter)
11/25/04 Day 9 – Russia (continued)I climbed out after takeoff and the city got smaller and smaller behind me. On the one hand, I was pretty happy to be leaving Magadan behind. On the other hand, this next leg had me a little uneasy. I was now going further north, up the coast of Russia, for about three hours, before turning and heading across the Bering Strait to the coast of Alaska. Definitely not a good part of the world to be in if you get a mechanical problem. Also, by this time it was probably midnight and it was looking pretty cold and dark out there, except for the moon. On top of that, in this part of Russia there weren‘t any airports until the Bering Strait to land if you had to. Hell, there weren‘t even any cities between here and Nome!
The only contact I had was a Russian air traffic controller on the radio. He couldn‘t see me on his radar because I was beyond his range, but I was to call him and check in every hour or so. Even on the radio, there was only one other airplane around, an Air China flight. I was probably the only guy around for 500 miles or so. I was really gonna be on my own for the next few hours.
This one was a pretty lonely flight. I was counting down the miles to the US border, which was over the Bering Strait. It was 1500 miles altogether. Then 1400. Then 1300. You get the picture. When I finally got to the point of less than 1000 miles to go, that was quite a moment. It made me think, though. When you‘re over Russia and you‘re stoked because you‘re finally only 1000 miles from Alaska, you‘re really out in the middle of nowhere.
Well, when I finally crossed the Bering Strait and got back into American airspace, it was pretty stokeable. I called the guy at Anchorage control on the radio, and, being so relieved, I told him how good it was to be back in American airspace. Of course, this poor guy was on the night shift. This was just his job. He couldn‘t care less. So he ignored me. No ‘Welcome back, brother!‘ No ‘Glad to have you back in the fold.‘ No love whatsoever. Just like the US I left! Awesome.
I got close to the Nome airport and started getting ready to land. It was 4:30 in the morning there, 34 degrees F (wow, warm compared to Magadan), and no tower to guide me in. There was supposed to be a fuel truck and customs guy when I landed. I was gonna fuel up, clear customs and make one more short hop to Anchorage.
I was on my own to make the landing at Nome. I executed an instrument approach called an ILS for runway 27.
Everything was looking great as I came in to land. I hit the runway and stepped on the brakes. Nothing happened! The plane just kept on careening down the runway.
See, my plane has brakes that are designed never to lock up. If they feel a skid coming on, they‘ll just release.
I thought there was problem with the brakes. I pumped them over and over, and each time they would grab for a split second, then let go. Meanwhile, the red lights at the end of the runway were coming up fast.
What I didn‘t realize was that the runway was iced over. The brakes were doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. I hadn‘t considered the possibility of ice on the runway, because the temperature was above freezing. Hell, it was like 50 degrees warmer than where I had landed at Magadan and that runway was completely dry! As I came in to land at Nome, you couldn‘t tell that there was ice on the runway. It looked as dry as the last place I had landed. And there was no tower to call and check the runway condition.
So I‘m speeding down the runway with almost no brakes, but I can tell that I actually am slowing down little by little. Whether I was going to stop by the end of the runway, I wasn‘t sure.
It was pretty sketchy for the next ten seconds or so. My life didn‘t flash before my eyes or anything, but…
Eventually I realized that yeah, I was going to stop in time. The plane finally came to a stop with a little runway to spare.
Holy crap. I let out a deep breath and checked myself for leaks.
This night was not quite over yet! I taxied off the runway, and looked around for the fuel truck and customs guy. There was nobody. I shut down the plane, got out and tried to make a call. My cell phone wasn‘t getting reception, however. I tried a satellite phone I had, but it had gone dead. I wasn‘t going to be able to go on to Anchorage without getting gas. Or clearing customs. In fact, it sort of looked like I was going to be spending the night in the plane. Killer. I got out a sleeping bag and tried to get warm in the back.
Luckily for me, the fuel truck and fuel guy showed up about a half hour later. He wasn‘t very happy about it either. I guess he wasn‘t stoked to be outside in the cold in the middle of the night pumping gas. I couldn‘t blame him.
I was by now pretty tuckered and I was gonna have to stay in Nome tonight. My gas guy (Brent‘s his name) warmed up a little and got me a taxi to a motel in town. Thanks dude.
I knew as I got to the motel that I was gonna be in big trouble with customs in the morning. They don‘t like it when you just come in from Russia, land and leave without telling anybody. And I generally avoid it. But this time I didn‘t really have a choice. I‘d just have to deal with it tomorrow.
So wow. Alaska. Epic.
