Scorpion Venom pt. 1

"When a scorpion stings, its stinger can release venom. The venom contains a complex mix of toxins that affect the nervous system" Mayo Clinic.

I had never prayed so much before, during, and after a flight.

The call came around 1 p.m. on a Saturday. A pastor in a village in the Sierras was calling to say that they needed the airplane immediately. The problem was that it was the rainy season. During the rainy season, we try to finish flying and have the aircraft back in the hangar by 1 p.m. because the weather gets unpredictable and dangerous in the afternoon.

A little girl had been stung by a scorpion and was having an allergic reaction. She was having trouble breathing. There was no anti-venom in the village and no one who could administer it if there was any. The pastor was talking forcefully and urgently. I told him I would check the weather forecast and call him back. The weather forecasts here are very unreliable at times. A thunderstorm was predicted, but it wasn't expected until around 4:30 p.m. I quickly ran through some flight planning calculations, called the pastor, and told him that I would do everything I could to get there, but with the weather coming, there was a possibility I wouldn't make it.

For a typical flight, it takes an estimated 2 hours to plan the flight, drive to the airport, get through security, file the flight plan at three different offices, preflight the airplane, wait while the National Guard inspects the airplane and writes down the information about the flight, start the airplane and perform the preflight run-up and checklists and obtain clearance from the tower. For this flight, I was airborne in 1 hour. I was moving faster than usual; that was part of the reason for the quick departure. The other part was that as I explained the situation, I received help. The Commandant of the airport pushed the paperwork through and personally delivered my flight plans to the necessary offices, allowing me to hurry straight to the hangar. He also gave me permission to contact the tower by radio and request an ambulance while en route if needed. The National Guardsman helped me push the airplane out and delayed his questioning until my return. He also told me to be very careful. With the preflight inspection complete, I started the airplane and ran through the flight calculations again. It was 2:00 pm. It is a half-hour flight to the airstrip. If they meet me at the airstrip, I might be airborne again in 15 minutes. A half-hour return flight and the airplane should be back in the hangar before 4:00, plenty of time before the storm was expected to arrive. I received clearance from the control tower, said another quick prayer, and took off. Once airborne, I checked the surrounding weather. Clouds were building but staying on the mountains’ other side for now. That was a good sign. The flight out to the Sierras, however, was stressful and turbulent. The winds created by the approaching storms were increasingly violent the closer I got to the airstrip.

Upon arriving at the location, I circled the airstrip and assessed the landing conditions. It is one of the nicer airstrips with a rocky/dirt surface, 1500 feet long, one way in and out with a slight upslope for landing; no animals or people were on the strip. The winds were worrisome, though. Judging from the windsock, I would have about 10 to 15 knots of wind coming from the 10 o’clock direction while landing. That's not too bad, but because it is a one-way strip, it would be a 10 to 15-knot wind from the four-clock position on take-off. That's much more serious. A tailwind extends the needed length for take-off significantly. If the wind increased in strength or shifted more towards the 5 or 6 o’clock positions, taking off again probably wouldn't be possible. Another worrisome thing I noticed was that nobody was waiting where we usually load and unload passengers. I entered the downwind leg, began the landing checklist, and reminded myself that if something doesn't look right or feel right, or the numbers don't add up right, go around. A "go-around" is an aborted landing. If, at any point, the pilot decides landing would be unsafe, full power is applied to the engine, and the pilot circles back around to set up for landing again. Most of the airstrips we use have a designated point during the approach where a go-around is no longer possible due to terrain. For this airstrip, that point is a half mile from the touchdown zone. The approach and landing were challenging because of the wind, but not my worst. As I taxied to the top of the strip, I looked around for the little girl and her family. A boy about ten years old was running toward the airstrip. I got out and met him at the fence surrounding the airstrip. He ran up and delivered the news.

The girl and her parents had already left. They found someone to drive them in a truck. I was speechless. I was also worried about her. In the best of circumstances, the trip would be about 5 hours to a hospital in Tepic. But it was the rainy season, the roads were rutted, and the storms were approaching quickly. There was no telling how long the trip would last.

I checked the clouds and the wind. The storm was building about five miles up the valley. I told the boy I had to leave right away and took off. The take-off used nearly all available runway length due to the quartering tailwind, then I turned down the valley and headed back to the city.

I was frustrated. I had just risked the airplane, future ministry, and possibly my life to fly one of the riskiest flights of my career. I had dispatched in record time. And they had left in a pickup truck before I got there.