One time at Rawlins WY, as I was getting into the S-7S with a large to go cup of coffee, I started bs'ing with a couple of G-3 (maybe 4) corporate pilots. They commented on the headwind (who'd have guessed I had towards Pocatello, and the coffee..... I bragged about the big tires and the fact that when the urge hit I'd just land. They looked at each other and then one said "we have a bathroom," and we all cracked up.

Cary, your story brings to mind why helicopter pilots are leery of flying high. Bathroom stops are not the problem with only a couple hours of fuel. Nor are engine failures. Almost any other problem could shake the aircraft to pieces before one could get down.

From a post a few years back....

"GumpAir wrote:

There I was...

About 15 years ago I was working as a deputy sheriff in Northern California. A work buddy of mine was shopping for a new car, using our credit union to find the best wholesale deal around and set it all up. It all worked out and they found the right car for him down in Lancaster, which was about 12 hours driving time away.

I got the proverbial, "Can you fly me down there?" phone call, and of course said, "You pay for gas and breakfast and we'll be good to go." So, on a cold and foggy October morning, we launched off from KSTS in the Comanche 260 I had at the time and climbed into the crud. About an hour into the trip we broke out of the gray, and for the rest of the flight had a smooth, sunny flight down the valley, over the rocks, and into the desert.

I hung around while my buddy did the deal with the car dealer, and once he was set, we headed back to the airport for breakfast. I had more than a few cups of coffee, and, at the time thought this probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, but what the hell, it's only two hours back home.

I filed IFR, gassed up, and off in the air I went, a very simple IFR flight for the trip home. All was well until about Concord. The fog wasn't lifting at KSTS and approaches were now stacked up about ten deep. It was also about this time that I was noticing that all those cups of coffee were making things rather uncomfortable.

I had some choices to make. Ask approach for the LDA into Concord so I could pee but lose my spot in the hold at home, or, keep on mushing on towards STS and hope for the best with the bladder situation. Mush on I did, and I joined the happy crowd making turns in the clouds above Santa Rosa.

By this time bladder situation was critical. I had probably an hour to go before it was my turn for the approach, and about 15 microseconds left of bladder control. I had no sic sacks in the airplane, no one who usually flew with me got airsick. Peeing in my pants or on the floor of my airplane sounded pretty damn good at that instant, but wasn't going to happen. So that left only one choice...

My beloved ceramic extra large Mickey Mouse coffee mug that I had had since I was a kid. Still full of now cold coffee.

My microseconds of control were fast approaching the spurt in the pants stage, so cold coffee got chugged as fast as I could, seat belt off, pants undone, skivvies dropped and aim into the cup and let loose.

It was working like a charm, instant relief.

Then the engine quit.

I was feeding off the right tip tank, and knew time wise I was getting close to empty, but got distracted with the hold and pee issue.

So there I sat. IFR conditions, dead engine with the prop windmilling. My pants down around my knees. And my dick in my hand. All I could do was just sit there and laugh out loud. What would the investigators make of this accident scene? They'd certainly be scratching their heads.

First things first... I finished peeing, switched tanks and got the engine making noise again, then pulled up my pants, and proceeded to work my way back home.

Like the guy said above, probably more airplanes wreck from full bladders than anything else."

Gump


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Thanks for the laugh this morning Gump!

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So there I sat. IFR conditions, dead engine with the prop windmilling. My pants down around my knees. And my dick in my hand. All I could do was just sit there and laugh out loud. What would the investigators make of this accident scene? They'd certainly be scratching their heads.

Its funny how we are all worried about the shame more than the pain. We would rather die looking good than embarrass ourselves. I bet a lot of airplanes get wrecked from trying to avoid the shame of admitting to/getting caught for a bonehead move.

Hysterical, Gump!!

daedaluscan wrote:So there I sat. IFR conditions, dead engine with the prop windmilling. My pants down around my knees. And my dick in my hand. All I could do was just sit there and laugh out loud. What would the investigators make of this accident scene? They'd certainly be scratching their heads.

Its funny how we are all worried about the shame more than the pain. We would rather die looking good than embarrass ourselves. I bet a lot of airplanes get wrecked from trying to avoid the shame of admitting to/getting caught for a bonehead move.

I'll bet your Momma told you to always wear clean underwear, "in case you were in an accident". Mine sure did.

Cary

Cary wrote:

daedaluscan wrote:So there I sat. IFR conditions, dead engine with the prop windmilling. My pants down around my knees. And my dick in my hand. All I could do was just sit there and laugh out loud. What would the investigators make of this accident scene? They'd certainly be scratching their heads.

Its funny how we are all worried about the shame more than the pain. We would rather die looking good than embarrass ourselves. I bet a lot of airplanes get wrecked from trying to avoid the shame of admitting to/getting caught for a bonehead move.

I'll bet your Momma told you to always wear clean underwear, "in case you were in an accident". Mine sure did.

Cary

Ya bout that...when it's over....unless you've had an enema....every body's last physical act is to take a dump...or I should say the last thing to go...isn't your mind it's your sphincky.


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