Former test pilot visits crash site Published May 5, 2010 By Laura Mowry 95 Air Base Wing Public Affairs EDWARDS AIR FORCE BASE, Calif. -- When Norvin "Bud" Evans' F-104A chase aircraft went down in 1959, he was dragged 40 yards through the Pancho Barnes' Happy Bottom Riding Club dump. Apr. 23, the retired Air Force major returned to Edwards to visit the crash site to recover a recently found section of the aircraft. It was Mr. Evans' first visit to the site in 51 years. Although most of the downed aircraft had been recovered during the accident investigation, a well preserved piece of the wing with most of its paint still intact had recently been found just north of the Happy Bottom Riding Club, approximately five miles short of Edwards' main runway. Accompanied by his family, he recapped the events and emotional details of the crash at the impact site. At the time of the incident, the exact location of the crash site was unknown. Fifty-one years later, "It was interesting to see where the aircraft hit," Mr. Evans said. Still, what matters most for him is that he survived. "Once I realized that I was alive, that was the main thing," he said. "As a test pilot, you realize that there are going to be some close calls. If you can't handle that, you need to get out of the business," said Mr. Evans. Although there have been a variety of in-flight emergencies throughout his 38 years of flight testing, this was the only time Mr. Evans had to eject. The Rogers and Rosamond dry lakebeds play a substantial role in providing a safer alternate landing surface for pilots with IFEs, according to Mr. Evans. "The lakebeds save lives, and a bunch of time and money," he said. The one time Mr. Evans ejected from his aircraft, it was using the Stanley C-1 egress system. The Stanley C-1 was responsible for claiming the lives of 21 pilots. He was the last person to survive the C-1 downward ejection. Two weeks after the incident, it was replaced by the Lockheed C-2 upward ejection egress system. "I'm just glad I lived to complain about it," Mr. Evans said with a big smile. At the time of the crash, he was flying a chase mission for an F-11F because the F-104A was the only aircraft capable of Mach 2, or just shy of 1,500 mph. During takeoff, he said he noticed some slight irregularities. "The engine was a little rough and the takeoff wasn't as smooth, but I didn't think much of it, that's just how the F-104 is." About 60 miles west of Edwards, Mr. Evans began to experience abnormal vibrations in the aircraft and a loss of oil pressure at Mach 1.87, so he decided to return to the base. The malfunction that occurred was not unusual for the early models of the General Electric J79 engine that both the F-11F and F-104A used. After experiencing his in-flight emergency, Mr. Evans prepared to land at Edwards. Traveling at an altitude of approximately 15,000 feet and a speed of 450 mph, he realized that the aircraft was going to overshoot the runway. To slow his speed, he tapped the speed brake. "That was a big mistake, that's when everything went wrong," he said. Almost immediately, the engine stopped, radio contact was lost, the fire warning light came on, and smoke filled the cockpit. The aircraft suddenly fell 7,500 feet and the speed dropped to 275 mph. Seconds later, he was able to see the ground through the top of the canopy. At approximately 4,000 feet above ground level, only one thought crossed Mr. Evans' mind, he said. "I have to eject-now." The ejection and subsequent touch-down caused him to break multiple vertebrae. His flight suit was practically shredded after being dragged 40 yards through broken bottles and tin cans in the dump at Pancho's. Mr. Evans took several weeks to recover from his injuries. Looking out at the remains of the Happy Bottom Riding Club dump, 51 years later, glass bottles and rusted tin cans still mark the site where Evans ejected. Amongst the rubble was an oxygen hose from the 1950s. Could it be? Fifty-one years later, Mr. Evans has survived the crash and is still able to pick up the pieces, laugh, joke, and even complain a little. . .