The Trench, she told me, was approximatlely a 350 mile straight narrows varying from 5 miles to 20 miles wide with mountains on either side rising from 7-10,000 feet and weather or cloud cover lower than the mountain tops. Sometimes down to 1,000 feet. Once you entered the Trench trying to get out by flying 'up' was risky, and you didn't know what weather was in the Trench because there are no weather reporting stations along this section of the route. Once you entered the Trench, she explained, you can't get out until you get to the other side. She made it sound like the Laurentian Abyss on land. There is a little river that flows through the Trench - never lose sight of it, she said, no matter how low you have to fly due to weather. What if the clouds are below the tree tops? Fly lower. The only escape was to turn around and go backwards if the weather became unmanageable. Of course this brought up all sorts of visions of trying to turn an airplane around in a tight canyon while flying at 900 feet while successfully staying off the ground, not drifting up into the weather, or making a lazy turn and getting too close to the terrain on either side. All skills a good pilot has, but one needs to stay on their game. The Trench, she repeated, once you go in you can't come out. I think she was having fun with this, kind of like telling me a campfire ghost story.
There are some small gravel strip airports along the way for oil workers and the like, only about 2200 feet long (very short), which you could use in an emergency. But they had no services, like fuel, once you landed. Now I understood what our trip leader said on our first day during our pilot briefing - we are not on a vacation, this is an adventure. A vacation, you see is where you can sit back and relax while someone else took care of you and you could have a cold drink by the pool. An adventure is when one is in charge of his or her own destiny and your performance and the decisions you make will determine your outcome.
I included a map reference in the blog showing Mackenzie. The long blue trench like thing going north west from Mackenzie is 'the Trench.'
So, this morning we assembled at Prince George airport to take off on our trip to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory through 'the Trench'. Cloud ceilings were about 4,000 feet along our route and only 900 feet right over the airport. Before long our group took off under 'special VFR' to clearer skies a few miles ahead. Our plane was position number 8 in a group of 10 planes. We soon leveled off at our initial altitude of 4,000 feet, I set the speed and gas mixture on the plane, part of the checklist of initial duties once getting to cruise altitude, and settled back to flying in formation. Then trouble struck.
I saw a flash of red on my primary flight display which caught my attention. The oil pressure had shot up 'in the red' to a high level of 100 PSI - not good. Within a few moments it read 'zero' - even worse. I had to think engine failure was imminent. I announced to the flight leader I was having trouble with my oil pressure readings and had to return to the airport and I started my turn back. Before I knew it the readings where back in the 'green' and everything was normal. The oil temp reading was steady green at at 170 degrees during the whole episode which told me the problem might be with the engine oil pressure sensor failing but no real problem with the engine. (Like modern cars, new aircraft are heavily computerized - my cockpit displays are all computer screens without any real 'gauges'). I wanted to stay with the group so I reversed my turn to head back - not the best choice. Within a few moments the oil pressure indicator began to swing wildly again - this time I didn't hesitate to turn back to the airport. With thoughts of 300 or so miles of 'the Trench' ahead I couldn't afford to take the risk. I announced my intentions to the flight leader. This made my co-pilot Jim happy who was probably wondering what the hell I was thinking to try to re-join the group anyway (being the calm guy that he is he just shook his head and waited for me to sort it out).
I contacted Prince George tower and asked for permission to land right away and that I was having trouble with my oil pressure. The cleared me to land and then asked 'are you in need of assistance' - which is their way of asking if I was declaring an emergency and should they roll the fire trucks onto the field. But the the plane was performing fine, the oil temps were good despite the pressure readings so I let them know that I should be able to land without incident.
A call to my mechanic back home and a quick inspection of the engine confirmed that the oil pressure transducer (or little expensive computer thing) failed and needed to be replaced. A quick fix, but a part is required which our home aviation shop finally tracked down in Maryland and had shipped out for an arrival to Canada, and through customs of about two days. Thank you Maidra and Scanlon Aviation!
So, all is safe, and we have an unscheduled stop in Prince George waiting on repairs before we fly back to join our group. After one day of flying in remote areas of Canada, we will have to find our own way to rejoin our group. More on that later as we re-write our trip and make it a new adventure.
The offending part is the little silver item with the red, black and green wire attached to it:
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