By : Brad Butler

Sneaking Through History En Route Across Russia and Around the World

Once Upon A Time in the not so distant past the world was split into a multiplicity of allegiances sitting between two superpowers, sitting between two systems, sitting between the precariously perched belligerents who in turn sat nose to nose at Checkpoint Charlie in the heart of Central Europe.

Through the travails of the Cold War the espionage battles became infamous, the Space Race became gigantic and the stakes became so enormous it seemed it might never end. But end it did, and in a way no political pundit could have guessed, with a vote by the Soviet Parliament on December 12, 1991.

The Leninist Dynasty was consigned to the history book after it consigned the Romanov Dynasty in 1917.

In midst of these far reaching events, a group of 4 people worried as months of hard work organizing a flight of small planes to cross the Soviet Union in the midst of a World Flight might evaporate.

Since earlier in the year they had plotted and planned an aviation adventure, which is now extremely unique in aviation and historical terms.

I was hired to document that event, and thus through fate, luck, world history and hard work the one who compiled the journals and wrote the definitive book about A World Flight Over Russia.

Two years after the fact, having almost died twice in Siberia and knowing I had a good story, I sat to write the book using 4 major pilots' journal, 9 ancillary journals, interviews, what I remembered and the 25 hours of video tape still on hand. The video allowed me to reconstruct long forgotten events with extreme precision, then I converted everything to present tense to give the reader the feeling of being along for the ride. The final product my proud to say is a complete telling of a rather complex little affair.

What took place in July 1992 was a fascinating and dangerous aviation adventure which essentially duplicated the historic World Speed Flights of Wiley Post, Howard and Hughes and the Graf Zeppelin; it was also one that saw 12 small aircraft fly 17,500 miles around the world while becoming the first group of private aircraft to circumnavigate the globe while crossing the entire landmass of Russia; one that saw an international group of participants sneak through one of those rare optimistic times in Russian history that are very rare indeed; one that saw my whole life altered as I ended up writing the book. But first I was changed by almost dying twice, once when we almost ran out fuel and once from sickness, and being able to view nature's handiwork from Greenland, across Siberia and on to Alaska.

In March 1991 Marcel Large of Raid Intl., headquartered in Paris, took the first private group of aircraft into Soviet airspace when they flew to Murmansk, and that is when the idea of a group of primarily American crews flying around the world across the Soviet Union took hold. Marcel recruited fellow Frenchman and business associate Eric Vercesi, then working out of Santa Monica Airport, to help organize from stateside. From March 1991 to July 1992 they put together a very complex affair as the Soviet Union fell apart for good, and against all odds 9 aircraft left Santa Monica on the journey of a lifetime. We picked up a Citation I in Maine and 4 more aircraft, two of them permanent participants, at Southend Airport near London before moving on to Moscow via Helsinki.

Two of biggest of those obstacles were fuel arrangements and, not surprisingly, dealing with the Soviet government as it became the Russian government in December 1991, the situation being so chaotic the U.S. Embassy in Moscow usually didn't know who was in charge of what. First the engine manufacturers refused to honor their warranties if low-quality Russian Av-gas ruined their products, thus escalating the cost of participation dramatically. Eventually they purchased 10,000 gallons of BP Av-gas and, after numerous ideas were scuttled by Russian pressure, rented a Russian IL-76 and a crew to fly with the group. We would hand pump the fuel out of barrels from Moscow to the very tip of Siberia at Anadyr, where we were the first Western or Civilian aircraft to land at this nuclear launching site/Red Air Force Base. Cost of the IL was $60,000.00 which, when combined with the purchase price, brought the per-gallon cost of crossing Russia to about $14.00.

Second was getting permission to fly across Russia and the routing. Marcel, his wife Michelle, Eric and Paul Hollenbeck traveled to Moscow in January 1992 for meetings with Russian officials. The Soviet Union was voted out of business by the Parliament only a few weeks before on December 12th, taking place while I attended a symposium at the 50th Anniversary of Pearl Harbor, and the level of confusion was incredible. During what should have been a commemoration of the 50th Anniversary of the Battle of Moscow, the situation was instead one of uncertainty and confusion. Meetings involved upwards of 15 from various government departments with 3 or 4 languages clogging the atmosphere, plus it seemed questions were generally answered with more questions.

I was plucked by fate three weeks before departure when the photographer dropped out and I was plugged in to perform the documentation tasks in still pictures and video. I had only been in one small plane before flying around the world in the King Air 200 follow-up support plane flown by Mark Eaton and also containing the mechanic, spare parts and paying passengers. The rest of the permanent group included 4 Bonanzas (1 a jetprop), 2 Cessna 421s, 1 Cessna 340, a Mooney flown by Marcel, a Piper-Archer, a Baron-58 and the Citation in the lead support role.

Another fascinating aspect is that Marcel wanted the first flight to be followed by yearly World Flights, with a different group flying a different route across Russia every summer. So he sought to build bridges with Russian liaisons, businessmen, politicians and dignitaries. When, through a quirk of fate, we ended up with then V.P. Rutskoi as our benefactor, the ability of our group to attract Russian attention increased tremendously. Additionally it was decided to have American and English children write letters to Russian children in Moscow and Novosibirsk, a major city in Western Siberia. Thus our aviation adventure had a humanitarian side with long-range goals of establishing relationships in a variety of ways.

On July 3, 1992 I was a nervous wreck as the organizers and participants gathered at Santa Monica Airport for the final briefing, which was followed by a group dinner that night. We had scrambled for three weeks putting together my camera and video gear while trying to plan for contingencies, which saw me wisely purchase water purification kits and mosquito repellent. Frankly I had little idea what I was in for, and the pilots who sensed my condition furthered it with wise cracks and tales of doom. The flight crews had been planning this dream trip for almost 18 months, and now that effort was about to become a reality

The focal point of the whole trip was Moscow, and the most dangerous aspect crossing the wilds of Siberia in the relatively uncontrolled airspace of Russia. From the first briefing in Santa Monica the concerns of the pilots about what lay caused all to pause and hope, while each crew also doubled their efforts to be prepared mentally and physically when the big test came. Not only did Russian airspace have military aircraft wandering around unchecked, the Russian controllers have a tendency to shut down or make no decisions when crowded, confused or faced with dire circumstances. Before leaving Moscow we were told no two planes over the Terminal Control Area at the same time. Paul Hollenbeck told us, in one of the interesting speeches in the book, that we had to be "heads up, and that means looking out and all around you." This didn't inspire confidence and then he related that the Russian controllers "couldn't and wouldn't" handle two aircraft over the TCA.

Well, events the next day tested that very instruction when we hit 60+ mph. headwinds over the largest swamps in the world after crossing the Ural Mountains into Siberia. At the end of a 20 hour day involving two-leg journey, with refueling in Syktyvkar, 6 aircraft arrived over the Novosibirsk Airport at midnight with two fuel critical. Marcel had been recalculating his fuel reserves for two hours knowing he probably faced a night crash landing in Siberia, and the King Air overshot the airport in radar and found it with less than 10 minutes of fuel left. I was in the King Air and Mark repeated screaming for emergency brought only a chilly silence from the controller, this was one of the scariest moments of the trip.

Back in Moscow we got a sense of the Cold War in a variety of ways. For instance our group was privileged enough to tour the once super-secret Star City 70 about 70 miles outside of Moscow. When our group went to Star City in mid-July 1992 it was on a bus that progressed from Moscow through the wide open countryside to small lonely roads weaving through thick forests of tall thin trees. Breathing secrecy and deception it hardly seemed possible that we were visiting such a place. In a land of mystery, where even the story of WWII was shrouded for strategic purposes, Soviet authorities guarded this place with utmost care. Erecting dummy space centers built to fool high altitude photography of the U2, SR-71, and later spy satellites, the Russian penchant for deception regarding their facilities almost proved fatal to our group in Siberia.

One wonders how many double-agents and spies existed at Star City and if they survived, one wonders how many people died keeping the secrets of Star City, and one wonders what consequences these events will still have? Military guards are posted at the front gate, a small stone and wood guard house decorated by a Red Star denotes the entrance, where a large wooden gate moves up as the bus slowly creeps into a lonely, secure place. Star City looks deserted as we move into a small enclosed city is tucked away in the countryside of Moscow, on all sides are groups of high rise dormitory buildings are mixed with wide walkways separated by large grassy areas.

Out in Siberia the notion of glasnost and perestroika were less prominent and the conditions of change less harsh than in Moscow. One amusing incident took place at Novosibirsk Airport in Western Siberia when the curious Americans began taking pictures and poking a Mig-29 Fulcrum, the latest and most intense Soviet-Russian fighter. Well, Paul Hollenbeck and the group which went to the airport early thinking the huge IL-76 had arrived with fuel, which it had not, got only so far before the Russian ground crews became extremely indignant and hauled the fighter with a Polar Bear and a Red Star on the tail.

I arrived with the afternoon group and the IL-76 had arrived by then. When we walked up I could hardly believe how huge this monster of an aircraft was. Inside was the lifeblood of the World Flight, pallets from front back with green fuel barrels of BP Av-gas that would hopefully take us out of Russia from the very tip of the Pacific Coast at Anadyr. As mentioned we the first Western or Civilian aircraft to ever land at Anadyr, a nuclear launching site/Red Air Force base at one of the closest Russian spots to American territory.

The security was tighter here than at any other spot we landed, with quonset huts behind the wire and well dressed guards and customs officials acting with the extreme efficiency. Plus we all got to watch the IL land from the ground, when the clam shell reverse thrusters kicked in the high-pitched whine of the jets almost hurt the ears. Truly an awesome sight.

As we got further away from Moscow another interesting thing took place. With distance from Moscow the Russian crew began downloading jet-fuel from the IL into the King Air, then we paid them 600 U.S. and the government truck refuelded the monster. This went on all way until we left Russia, which of course made us great friends with the crew who let me film on takeoff from the navigation port down below and from the cockpit during landing. Captain Vladimir looked like he was driving through downtown traffic when I filmed him landing at Bratsk, with the stick going every which way until we hit the runway on one of the prettiest landings you could hope in such a beast.

The deeper in Siberia we flew the more reforms were non-existent. For example the Mayor of Yakutsk, who came out to our pretty nice boat hotel to meet the pilots and exchange gifts, went right to his cell meeting in town. How can one describe flying across the wild desolation that is Siberia, a land which could go for hundreds of miles without a sign of civilization. Dr. Howard Weisner of Dallas, Texas flew most of the legs across Russia at about 500 feet or less, once wrapping some kind of rusty wired that almost pierced his tip tank and left a scar across much of the wing. He claimed it was from a rusty bird and didn't deviate from that story one bit.

One of the highlights that made the book fun to write was the three low-level flights the King Air pilot Mark Eaton took the support crew. First in Greenland when 5 planes had to divert to Narsarsuaq for fuel en route from Goose Bay in Canada, a NATO base that was a WWII base, to Iceland. Mark took us on a tour of a beautiful fjord during a truly gorgeous day which is vividly described in the book. Then while en route from Yakutsk to Magadan deep in Siberia we got to explore a series of desolate valleys ending with a flight over a trapped body of water at 30 feet above the deck at 300 mph.

To end our trip across Russia Mark got permission, the only time he did, to take a tour along the coastline at Anadyr. Seeing the Bering Strait for the first time like this made the World Flight Over Russia one of the most memorable experiences in my life, one that truly changed just about every aspect of my life, one that gave everyone involved a better appreciation of life in the United States, one that saddened us as the warm-hearted and pretty well educated Russian people remain trapped in a 1,000 year old enigma of needing a strong ruler, wanting better things in life, and truly not knowing how to bring those changes about. I remained humbled and grateful to have been part of this unique adventure which snuck through a window in time when the whole world was changing before our very eyes.