15C Cloudy
A pleasant yesterday morning with Jo and her friend Lia here for breakfast. Bowled in the pm then worked out in the yard a bit.
I gave one of the older fellows at the club one of my books (he's 94 and is an avid reader) and he said it was so exciting he couldn't put it down. I do believe he meant it.

He lowered the nose and lost altitude until they once more were flying tight beneath the layer.

  

N

at, sitting directly behind Fred, swiveled his eyes from side to side, watching as best he could for any hint of change in the terrain they were flying over. He knew that Fred would be peering ahead focusing on where they were going not having the liberty to look out either side or beneath them.  Neither man said anything, there was no doubt they were in the middle of a ‘situation’, intense concentration was desperately needed. 

  They flew along for about ten minutes with the heavy cloud layer continuing to force them even lower.  Fred throttled back to just above stall speed.  They were now obviously in a valley; Nat could see jagged cliffs on either side, at times a quarter mile away and sometimes only a few hundred yards off the wing tips. 

  “Fred.” He called. “We got cliffs on both sides do you want me to call out distances?”

  “Yeah, that’ll help. I definitely can’t try and climb out of this now.” Was the shouted reply.

  Nat watched the cliff getting closer on his left; he called out the distances, “On the left; three hundred yards, two hundred, two hundred, one fifty, one hundred!” Then suddenly the cliff was a good quarter of a mile away, he turned his head just as Fred, yelled out “Oh Christ!”

  Simultaneously the right wing clipped a jutting rock, the plane staggered and in response to Fred’s reaction tilted over onto the other wing and slipped by and around the jagged bend.   The plane started to stall; Fred increased power as he took a quick glance at the damaged wing tip.  A piece was gone ripped back and into the flap.

  “Fred, watch out dead ahead!” Nat screamed.

  The valley had abruptly changed direction once again and they were flying directly at a wall of granite!

 Fred, too late forced the plane over onto the damaged wing and tried to do a sharp right turn. The left wing grazed the cliff but a pontoon was clipped as they went by, the plane heaved sideways and lost altitude.

  “Head down, hang on we’re goin’ in.” Fred yelled.

  Somehow he righted the plane but now they were in a narrow canyon, a dark river flowing beneath them.  Ahead they could both see another turn in the canyon walls rushing at them. Instantly deciding, Fred yelled again “Keep your head down!” Without hesitation he dropped the plane the last few feet onto the surface well above landing speed.  They bounced once, twice then the plane tipped and caught one wing in the water and slewed into a semi circle.  Fred spotted a tiny beach only a few feet wide along one wall; he gunned the motor and drove the plane directly up onto the bit of gravel and full tilt into the towering wall behind it!

  The tiny plane smashed into the wall at close to fifty miles an hour crumpling into a ball; the engine was driven back into Fred’s legs as his head snapped forward from the force of the impact.  Nat head down, arms clenched across the back of his neck was driven forward smashing his head into the padded back of Fred’s seat.  The tail snapped off and held only by cables fell into the pool formed by the eddy in front of the gravel. 

  For long moments the only sounds were those of the crash echoing then fading and being overcome by the noise of the river sweeping between the canyon walls.  There was no movement inside the twisted ball of wreckage.  The minutes went by then; Nat gave a small groan and pushed himself into a sitting position.  Momentarily disoriented he looked around in a daze, then the last few moments before the impact rolled over him like a wave.  “Fred, Fred, you okay?” He croaked.  There was no answer.

  Nat unbuckled his seat belt, reached forward and tried to reach Fred’s throat. Fred was slumped full forward and because of the damage to the plane Nat couldn’t reach far enough.  He moved his hand and found he could barely reach Fred’s chest, he held his hand there. Was there a pulse? He couldn’t tell.

  He unbuckled his seat belt, found the door handle and twisted it to the unlatched position but the door was jammed and wouldn’t open.  He looked around, spotted the fire extinguisher mounted just under the seat in front of him. He undid it from its holder and using it as a hammer smashed across Fred’s back at the jammed door.  At first it wouldn’t budge, in desperation he swung harder and at last it gave and swung out several inches.

  He scrooched around on his seat and got his feet against the door and finally pushed it out so that there was an opening wide enough to slip through.  He rolled over on his belly, groaning a bit with pain from a stiffening neck. He slid out and through the door, and then wrenched it all the way open, snapping the upper hinge as he did so.