EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is the 40th in a series of stories adapted from William Kelley’s unpublished book, “Wind Socks, Grass Strips, and Tail-Draggers.” Last week, Kelley hit some bad weather on his flight home to Michigan.

At Williams Lake, I decided I’d need fuel before Penticton.

I turned east and followed a river valley over fairly flat terrain until I came to the North Thompson River. I turned south and followed it into Kamloops.

The detour and winds made Penticton improbable to impossible as my next fuel stop. The air in the valley was smooth in contrast to what I’d just flown through, but my ground speed was still slowed. At higher levels in the valley, the air was still turbulent, but, lower, it wasn’t bad. The air did become noticeably warmer.

The Thompson River was used by locals for their water needs. Not only was it a beautiful river, but it was functional. Ranchers, farmers, and gardeners irrigated with it. There were channels to carry the water inland. Where the water moved slowly, there were farms right up to it. Some areas had swift water, and erosion was present. At one point just north of Kamloops, there were concrete and log barriers built out into the stream to slow and redirect the water to reduce erosion on the banks. It was a valley full of conservationists’ interests.

Kamloops airport was a little west of the mouth of the North Thompson River. The city has some industry, but is mainly known for fruit trees. The valley is warm, maybe classified as subtropical.

Infrequently, I encountered an airport tower frequency I didn’t have. Kamloops was one of those. Not having tower communications, I just circled the airport and noted the wind direction on the windsock. Then I flew over the town and approached the northwest runway. I watched another plane land and followed it in. No other landing traffic was in sight.

When I taxied to the gas pumps, the lineboy said the tower wanted to see me. He pointed to the tower, which was situated to the west of the pumps. I walked over there.

The control tower didn’t resemble our Federal Aviation Administration towers. It was a little coop atop stilts in the middle of the airport. The controller called down to me with a megaphone and told me to climb up and talk to him.

I climbed the ladder. The door was open to allow some air circulation. When I ducked inside, the controller confronted me.

“Don’t you have a radio?” he asked and swatted at a fly with a rolled-up newspaper.

“Yes.”

I hoped he wouldn’t write me up.

“I thought so. I thought I saw an antenna,” he said and patted a pair of binoculars where they rested beside his microphone.

“I don’t have the tower on my chart.”

“You have an old chart, then.”

“I bought it today in Prince George. It should be current.”

“Did you try Flight Service?”

“I didn’t call them. I never thought about you having a tower.”

“You can see by these accommodations we haven’t had it long.”

He told me the frequency and the general reasons for radio use and let me go.

Once the plane was fueled and checked for flight, I did call Flight Service and thoroughly check weather. Then I filed the flight plan to Penticton. All Flight Service did was extend the original plan, and let Penticton know so they would not go look for me.

“Kamloops Tower,” I said when I was ready to go. “Cessna eight-niner-one-one-eight.”

“One-one-eight, Kamloops Tower,” the controller said and I saw him wave to me from his window atop the stilts.

“Roger, Kamloops, one-one-eight ready.”

“One-one-eight, Kamloops Tower, cleared for takeoff. Thanks for stopping. Have a good flight.”

Penticton lay southeast of me as I circled and climbed out of the Kamloops valley. The air was still rough. I followed the highway eastward. The storm continued to brew as I followed the road. It had been quiet in the valley, but, on the plains east of there, a storm still fussed. Several times, I thought I’d have to land at a little strip and wait it out.

Check The News next week for the next installment. William Kelley was a teacher for 32 years and has been a pilot since 1966. He lives in Herron on the family farm where he was born and raised.