The continuing drama at Minden-Tahoe Airport

Airport issues have been quiet lately, but in 2010 we still have to vote whether to increase the Minden-Tahoe Airport aircraft weight limit from the 50,000 pounds voters approved in 1992 to 75,000 pounds as the Federal Aviation Administration commands Douglas County voters to do.

Months ago I flippantly wrote our airport has ingredients of an adventure novel including conspiracy, even hint of fraud and corruption. Intrigue is added as the novel's outline continues to evolve.

A good story needs possible conspirators. Candidates are airport overseers, FAA administrators, an airport advisory commission, airport users, an elected board of county commissioners, an elected district attorney, the Nevada Department of Transportation, and of course wealthy shadowy-behind-the-scenes characters manipulating the rest. As always local taxpayers play the role of sheep to be sheared, except for public citizens refusing to say ba-a-a-a.

Our mystery begins in late World War II when the Army Air Corps builds two identical runways to train pilots of B-29 bombers and P-51 fighters in Silver Springs and Minden. After extensive renovation of both paid by FAA, NDOT rates Silver Springs at 60,000 pounds capacity but curiously rates Minden at 75,000 pounds.

Public citizens after hot disputes in 1984 vote airport weight limits at 30,000 pounds to keep the airport small and rural. Airport enthusiasts counter with another vote in 1992 raising capacity to 50,000 pounds, still stressing rural character.

Enter the FAA distributing dollars like chocolates to make our airport safer and more convenient for larger aircraft than "rural character" perceives. FAA money comes from dwindling fees on passenger tickets and traffic at commercial airports like Reno-Tahoe. Intrigue thickens as a timely FAA letter materializes threatening suspended funding because we limit aircraft to 50,000 pounds instead of NDOT's 75,000 pound rated capacity.

County management and Airport Advisory Committee in public forums warn public citizens that FAA could demand repayment of $19 million already spent unless we vote to increase capacity to 75,000 pounds. FAA shows its muscle by reducing 2010 grant from $800,000 to $100,000. FAA doesn't reveal why the airport is suddenly more vital to them than to county voters.

The FAA can't change its own flight manuals to tell pilots capacity is 75,000 pounds unless local voters allow it. FAA tells voters increase the capacity - or else. Elected county officials spurn 1992 voters to back the FAA and put it on the 2010 ballot. That seems silly and illogical but it makes great conspiracy to have a gigantic federal agency hovering over the voting populace like a black ominous shadow.

A respected frequent Record-Courier contributor points out that FAA often allows flight manuals to conform with voter-determined weight limits when voters want to retain a smaller airport, citing precedents. County management ignores him.

An unofficial experienced engineer tests the tarmac and concludes capacity is 60,000 pounds. County management and FAA ignore him.

Some suggest telling the feds to just get lost. Can't do that, says county management. Unbeknownst to taxpayers the $19 million past grants contain a legal "assurance" guaranteeing the county will maintain the airport for 20 years (if FAA grants cease). Public citizens didn't know their future taxes were encumbered. Nevada open meeting law specifies board of commissioners meeting agendas clearly notify public citizens before obligating their money. Commissioners agendas didn't.

A guarantee is a contingent liability to spend future money. County financial reports display grants with no mention of public liability. County management set up no reserves. Public citizens seem defrauded. In the middle of all that, enter shadowy-behind-the-scenes characters surreptitiously landing a 100,000 pounds plus Boeing 737. The district attorney announces he cannot enforce his own constituents' weight ordinance. FAA opinion trumps local law. The 737 stays 20 minutes and takes off. Nobody explains.

On the business side, airport financial reports show income from user fees and rents stay flat for eight years while workers get 10 percent annual increases. Note two intriguingly opposing Special Interests involved. Squeezed operating profits are inadequate to maintain the airport if necessary. Management is furious when public citizen suggests conspiracy afoot. Public citizen wishes they were furious about the profit squeeze.

The district attorney pouring oil on troubled waters crafts a 2010 ballot question raising airport capacities to 75,000 pounds and providing a mere $1,000 civil penalty for overweight planes, chump change for millionaires, a virtual invitation. It also provides an over-weight landing fee set by the commissioners instead of by voters. That invites political pandering to special interests, but opens another source of political campaign contributions. Public citizen doesn't get a bullet-proof protection from overweight planes promised by the district attorney.

Commissioners see the ballot question making all players happy. Shadowy behind-the-scenes characters win the day. Airport gets more FAA funds, Public citizens get more contingent liabilities, a bigger airport, no certain deterrence to over-sized air transports. Ever. So long, rural character.

But things get even more intriguing. Without fanfare AAC revises airport's 5-year capital expenditure plan. The commission agenda gives no hint the changes are huge, so few public citizens show up. It delays a new glider center for a year but almost doubles total cost. They add $1 million to 2010 maintenance. Airport manager shows slides of cracked runways and pavement. Why this sudden costly deterioration? The 737 perhaps? Corporate jets bouncing their landings? Too much cumulative weight? Something? No explanation. County doesn't have the money. Now FAA must be our angel. County commissioners approve it unanimously, no comment. Public citizen sheep are sheared with a million more contingent liability when FAA chocolates run out.

Sometimes the best novels are real life.

Jack Van Dien is a Gardnerville resident