Last week, Cessna 172 crashed outside of Nome after missing an approach at a small plane field and never making an attempt at the big field a mile away. Here's the crash scene:
I just got back from Nome last night and circled over the scene.
Notice a couple of things: Wheels are ripped off. No skis. Plane is 10 miles east of Nome, heading away from the town. Hit very hard. What was this guy doing flying around in western Alaska in lousy weather after dark? No flight plan, no communication with anyone on the ground.
Here's the story: The plane was carrying drugs and this was not his first trip. Previously, he had circled north of the town over miles of empty tundra and air dropped the drugs out of the plane but apparently this time, the money needed to change hands so he was supposed to land. Because the Troopers were eyeing him, he could not land at the main airport and risk search. Once he figured out he was not going to be able to land at the small plane airport because of too much snow, he paniced, called his girl friend on the cell phone and headed east, trying to get to another air strip where he could buy some gas and wait.
What kind of drugs? Heroin and opiods. Heroin. In Nome, Alaska.