"Go ahead and get the skis and baggage out, I'll go get the rental car." Those words came to me from the President of the company that I had gone to work for only one month before. We had just landed at Eagle, Colorado, the nearest airport to the Vail ski complex.This was my first job in corporate aviation. Prior to this my time consisted of flight instructing, flying charters and mail, and a small commuter airline. About two thirds of my time was in single-engine aircraft, with the multi-engine balance being in Apaches, Aztecs, Beech 18's and that wonderful aeronautical abortion, the 4-engine de Havilland Heron.

It had been a busy month for me. After hiring on with my new company I went out to Wichita to attend Flight Safety & Cessna training on the 421B, the company's corporate bird. A major part of my time was spent just reading up on systems for this, the most complex civilian aircraft that Cessna built at the time. (The Citation was still a couple of years down the road.) The 421B was the Cessna flagship, a lovely looking twin-engine turbocharged aircraft that had a look of speed to it just sitting on the ground.

Carrying 8 to 10 people, the 421B would cruise at 245 knots at 25,000 feet at 75% of power on its two Continental 375 horsepower geared turbocharged engines. All this while the occupants resided in the comfortable pressurized cabin. We had come out to Vail so the Prez. could hit the slopes and check into buying some property. This being my first trip for the company, and having the President and his family (and my wife) on board, I was anxious to make a good impression- show them that they had made the right choice in the jock to drive their corporate iron.

There was only one problem. That baggage that he wanted me to get out of the aircraft?

It was in the nose baggage compartment.

Locked.

The keys were 1,000 miles away.

In Minneapolis.

I had pretty much given up on flying for a living before this opportunity came up. My last position as a pilot was for a commuter airline, and it had gone bankrupt. I could have fallen back on my flight instructor rating, it was something that I truly enjoyed, but you can die a slow death with the earnings you make teaching people how to fly. I was working for a fiberglass company making flower pots when the telephone call came from an old student of mine. He had a chance to hire on with a company flying right seat on a Lockheed Jetstar - did I want his old job flying a Cessna 421? I actually hesitated for several days before saying yes. Employment in aviation can be volatile, and I wasn't certain that I wanted to take my family through the potential rises and falls that a pilot often faces. As it turned out, it was a wonderful company to work for. I spent the next eighteen years of my life driving their employees around through the friendly skies.

The training at Cessna and Flight Safety was difficult, especially for someone like me that wasn't current. It didn't take long to get back in the saddle though. The training was divided between Cessna doing the classroom instruction and mock-ups, while Flight Safety did the full-motion simulator training. One thing you could count on with Flight Safety- nothing ever worked in the simulator 100% of the time. Accelerate down the runway, Vr, liftoff, engine failure. Do it again. Do it again. "What is the first thing you do in an emergency?" Fly the airplane. In case you forgot that answer, they had their ways of reminding you of the correct response.

Now I was a trained 421 driver. All I had to do was go out and gain some experience. When the call came for my first trip I was enthused to be going to Vail. And, the offer to take my wife along was certainly most generous. Then doubt and self examination set in. What the hell am I doing? I've never flown in the mountains. I'm a flatlander pilot from the midwest. What about roll clouds, and lenticular clouds, and down bursts, and mountain waves? What the hell am I doing here?

I should have stayed with the fiberglass flower pots.

In the few days that I had before the trip I studied about mountain flying. I laid out my routing- over and over. I prayed for VFR for the western half of the United States. The great day came. There was a merciful God- it was clear from Minneapolis to Arizona. We arrive at the airport two hours early. I get my wife settled in the passenger lounge and go to take care of my aircraft. Let's see here, got coffee, beer and pop on ice, booze in the bar, clean glasses, snacks, current magazines in the rack, interior looks and smells clean, windows are clean, tanks are full of fuel, IFR flight plan is filed, weather looks good- I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Gee, I hope my passengers aren't late. I don't want to make my first trip into those mountains in the dark.

My passengers arrive late.

I always was a cautious guy when it came to driving airplanes. This, my first corporate trip, was not going to be an exception. I had been tracking the weather at Vail since the night before, looking for trends. As I mentioned earlier, the weather was clear all the way. But, I liked to keep a log of the hourly observations just to see if any trend was developing. With this thought in mind I decided to make one last phone call to the FSS prior to boarding my passengers. It was a very nice setup that the MSP FBO had, including a large desk area for writing, trip planning,

...and leaving your keys.

It's a marvelous thing - you have to be a good thief to start a car without a set of keys, but once you're inside of a million dollar airplane it's just a matter of flipping switches - no ignition key required.

"Good afternoon Clearance, Cessna 5376 Xray, information Delta, instruments to Eagle." "Roger 76 Xray, you're cleared as filed, climb and maintain 10 thousand, expect flight level 220 ten minutes after departure. After departure turn left heading 250, Departure will be 121.75, squawk 1355." I read back the clearance and contact Ground Control. A short taxi to the active at MSP and we're ready to go. "Good afternoon tower, Cessna 76 Xray is ready on the Left side." "Roger 76 Xray, after departure turn left heading 250, youíre cleared to go."

We climb into a beautiful clear Midwestern sky and slowly reach our cruising altitude of 22,000 feet. After crossing our second waypoint it appears that we will be a little earlier than our flight plan time, and more importantly, arrive before sunset. I still am not comfortable with the thought of flying around the mountains of Colorado in the dark. My main area of concern is that Eagle is a VFR-only airport. If the weather should go sour there is no way to find it by flying on instruments.

The Front Range of the Rockies slowly fills the windshield as we near Denver. Don't let anyone kid you- looking out the side window of an airplane doesn't compare to the view from up front. The 421B carries its eight passengers in comfort. Each has their own chair, roughly the equivalent of the size in First Class on a commercial flight. The club seating on each side in the passenger cabin have tables that pull up and out from the sidewalls. Each chair has built-in and pull-up armrests. There are two more chairs in the rear, one of which has a toilet under it although it has a seat belt and is a legal chair.

The main thing is the lack of baggage in the cabin. The nose will hold objects up to seven feet in length. In addition to the nose baggage area there are two lockers behind each engine. It's comforting to know that in case of turbulence we don't have to worry about a Samsonite flying around.

We cross the Front Range and pass over the Kremmling VORTAC. For this flatlander the mountains are a spectacular sight. At Kremmling Denver Center calls with our first descent. "Cessna 76 Xray descend and maintain 17 thousand, Kremling altimeter is 30.12." "Out of 220 for 17 thousand, 30.12, 76 Xray." Passing through 17.5 Denver calls again. "Cessna 76Xray you are cleared to the Eagle airport to cruise 16 thousand. How do you intend to cancel your IFR?" This is a pretty good reminder from ATC that your destination airport doesnít have an instrument approach. A "cruise clearance" allows me to descend to the altitude stated, 16,000 feet, at my discretion- however once I report out of an altitude I cannot return to it without clearance from ATC. It just gives the pilot a little more maneuvering room in the operation of his aircraft. In this case I can see the valley ahead where the Eagle airport is located so I cancel. "Denver, 76 Xray has the airport vicinity in sight. We'll cancel instruments at this time." "Roger the cancel 76 Xray, the Eagle airport is your 12 oíclock and 30 miles. Squawk 1200. Good day!"

The Eagle airport is in a fairly good size valley, with large "hills" along the North side of the more-or-less East/West runway. I descend in a spiraling manner over the valley. "Eagle Radio, Cessna 5376 Xray is with you, five miles South of the field, descending out of one five thousand, landing Eagle. Advisories please." "76 Xray, Eagle Radio, wind is out of the West at 10 knots, favoring runway 26. Altimeter is 30.10. No reported traffic." "Thank you Eagle Radio, we'll make pattern calls."

I'm feeling pretty good about this. Although the sun is low, it is still daylight. The weather held, it's still clear. The wind is light. There hasn't been any turbulence. The people in the back apparently think I know what I'm doing.

It looks like I'm going to pull this off.

Field elevation is 6,500 feet. Because of the thinner mountain air, and those "hills" I decide that 8,000 feet will be a good pattern altitude. I come out of our descending spiral and enter a left downwind at mid-field. The cabin has been pressurized at 7,000 feet for our trip, so it is necessary to only descend it another 500 feet to match the airport elevation. "Eagle traffic, Cessna 76 Xray is on a left downwind, runway 26, landing Eagle." There is a ridge ahead that prevents much more descent on the downwind leg. We cross the ridge, turn base then final. "Eagle traffic, Cessna 76 Xray is on a two mile final, runway 26, Eagle." At my approach speed of 120 knots we are really doing about 130 knots with this higher elevation. We cross the fence and settle down on the runway- not great, but not bad. The runway is downhill, 5,000 feet long, 75 feet lower at the far end than at the landing end. Moderate braking and we make a 180 on the runway to return to the center-field turn off. "Eagle traffic, Cessna 76 Xray is on the ground and clear of the runway, Eagle."

A heads-up Lineman is standing on the ramp to direct us to a parking spot. Radio Master "Off", lights "Off", fuel pumps "Off", throttles full back, mixture to "Idle Cut-Off", mags. "Off", Master "Off", "Seat Belts" and "No Smoking" signs "Off". There, that does it. I made it, not a hitch, my lack of experience didn't bite me at all. I catch my wife's eyes as she is standing on the ramp- it's there, I can _see_ it. "My hero, just like a real pro." She goes off with the rest of the passengers to the FBO terminal. I remain to tie my partner in aviation down for our four day stay and to unload the skis and baggage. Hmmmm, now where are those keys? I can't seem to find them anywhere.

Oh, you know that part already, don't you?

I'm patting myself down for the tenth time looking for the keys, sweating profusely even though it's in the low 40's outside. My wife comes walking back to the aircraft. "They're all ready to go, are you going to get the baggage out?"

I fess up.

I can see it in her eyes. "Youíre no hero, you're a putz!" Boy, talk about rising and falling. Gee, if I just had a real airplane that didn't have external baggage compartments I wouldn't be having this problem.

The boss strolls over. "Let's get that baggage out and loaded in the rental car." "Right away Mr. Johnson. Be right with you." He walks back to his family standing some distance away by the car. My wife sees the look of desperation in my face and says that she'll start looking on the ground around the airplane. I go in the cabin and am on my hands and knees when my now slightly agitated boss of only thirty days sticks his head in the cabin and asks what's going on.

The telephone call to the FBO in Minneapolis confirms it - the keys were left on the counter. I consider prying the doors open, hell it's only aluminum.

I quickly realize that this is a thought of the truly desperate.

The boss makes the decision. Call back to the FBO in MSP. Ask them to drive the keys over to the terminal and the airline that serves Denver. Put them on the next flight. And "You......fly back to Denver, get those keys and come back here."

At least he didn't call me a "putz".

Oh God, now it's dark out there. And there are mountains between me and Denver- big mountains. My wife, the trooper that she is, decides to stay with me and take the ride to Denver and back. The boss and his family leave for the 45 minute drive to Vail. The FBO tops of the main fuel tanks, I file an IFR flight plan to Denver and one for the return trip to Eagle. We taxi out and receive our clearance from the FSS while back-taxiing down the runway. "Cessna 5376 Xray you're cleared to the Denver airport via direct Kremmling direct. Climb and maintain flight level 230. Contact Denver Center out of 16 thousand. Clearance void if not off the ground by 20 after the hour. Time now is 10 after the hour." We lift off and turn left over the valley and spiral up to 16 thousand, contact Denver, and proceed on course to Kremmling and twenty three thousand feet.

After leveling off I dimmed all of the interior lights and we gazed at the brilliant stars shining in the Colorado sky. The full moon was reflecting off of the snow-capped peaks. Denver was a brilliant shining jewel out on the prairie. I had become a little more comfortable with the mountains.

Dear reader, this is the end of the story. Nothing eventful happened after that. We scooted right into Denver, got the keys without a hitch, got back out of big "D" without delay, found the Eagle airport in the dark, spiraled back down into the valley, and landed. My boss, slightly chagrined because I had eaten into his Happy Hour time, picked us and the baggage up and we drove back to Vail. They were even gracious enough to hold for a late dinner so that we could join them.

In my eighteen year career with the company, I ended up flying out to Eagle about twice a year. In addition, I crossed the Rockies many times while enroute to the West Coast. One of my former students from my flight instructing days was a pilot for Northwest Airlines. He gave me one of their charts that listed NWA's in-house frequencies for mountain and clear air turbulence. I always guarded those frequencies when I was over the Rockies. I never did find a mountain wave, or a lenticular cloud. Oh, I know that they're out there, and I certainly am not making light of them- I just never encountered the phenomena.

I was just lucky.

When I returned home I bought a roll of duct tape and had a spare key made. I taped the key inside one of the main gear doors.

Wherever 76 Xray is today, I suspect that key is still in there.