What I missed: The Antique Airplane Club of Greater New York annual Fly-In (2011)

You want to tell God a joke? Make a plan.

I had every intention of flying the Cub north from NC to NY for the Fly-In at Bayport Aerodrome, then life got in the way. Gino called me from the Sheep Shagger Baaa, where the airplane and hangar keys are locked away for the night and merriment abounds. I talked to Bill and Bill and heard many serious discussions of aviation engineering, aerodynamics, and physics in the background, mostly pertaining to the results of bomb drops and spot landings, punctuated by laughter. Oh, how I miss these great people. I missed the Plane Janes, too, but you don’t have to.

Order a calendar!

There were great airplanes:

Ace’s N3N is always a big hit. The big Wright engine, the collection of leftover blimp parts…..

 

Bill’s Brunner-Winkle Bird was joined by two others – a rarity in itself, you seldom see three in one place (The pic of the red airplane  is from the Cradle of Aviation web site, but it was there).

And what would a fly-in be without Stearmans?

…Or the iconic Piper Cub?

Feeling their way to the stripe in the spot landing contest …

And always a committee to grade the landings ….

Stu in the Auster and Steve in the Fleet … you don’t see these every day except at Bayport.

Airplanes snugged down for the night …

Thanks (& a tip of the hat) to Annemarie and Stuart for the great pictures.

See you next year!

The Walter Mitty Cub, or Armchair Flying

Oh, how I love an adventure! Last summer I looked at a Piper Cub trip from Washington State to North Carolina and thought it would be the flight of a lifetime (which it would have been) but timing, that fickle quash, overrode my plans. The Bonanza had to go first and on the other end the Cub had to go so it became a race to the sale and the Cub won. Dang it. The Bonanza eventually sold (see February’s post) but it was too late for this participant. I found another Cub near my own backyard but the allure of flying through the high mountains of the west still strikes a chord in me.

Enter the internet and a website for Cub enthusiasts and wishful thinkers at www.j3-cub.com . There is a forum thereon called “Cub Talk”, which is open to general discussion of all things Cub-related and where a younger-than-me United Airlines captain opened up a thread that became one of the longer ones on the site. The “New Boy Buying J3” led not only to his finding a fine airplane but to his embarkation upon a four-day trip from Lincoln NE to Southern California.

 

This doesn’t give all the zigs and zags of his route, but you get the general idea. His destination wasn’t Palm Springs, either, but it’s close. The straight line flight would have been just over 1,000 miles; the route he had to take to wind through the mountains and to stay near highways across the desert ended up nearly 1,400 miles. Lucky guy (obviously the beneficiary of airline luck), he had tailwinds a lot of the way! I never have tailwinds.

With today’s satellite technology and a nifty little hand-held device sending sparks to space and back, we were able to track the progress of the flight all the way from Lincoln to his home field. The gadget sent his position every 10 minutes and with a little interpretation you can tell he stopped for fuel between position 38 and position 44, at Buckeye AZ, just west of Phoenix. To add a little more realism, I pulled up Google Earth and traced the route over satellite pictures of the terrain. I can’t wait to see his pictures.

My wife tells me I’m nuts for watching NASCAR races but I haven’t seen a race yet that has captured my imagination like this flight in a little yellow airplane.

Maybe next year.

The Future

When it’s a beautiful day, there’s just nothing better than an Airplane Ride! Cousin Charlie’s wife, Marian’s, nephew and family spent a few days in North Carolina recently and after all the swimming and freezing in mountain streams, after all the hiking and climbing and doing stuff, there was this Big Secret High Adventure thing left to do … the boys played all their cards to find out what it was, but no telling. By the time they got to the airport and the Secret was out, they were wired … and boy, was it fun!

Daemion (age 12) was first and climbed right in … we spent about 15 minutes in the air, first circling over the airport so we could wave to everybody, then departed the pattern from the crosswind to do a little hands-on flying! He picked it right up.

Charlie and Papa and Ty (age 8) and Lisa were the cheering section …

Then it was Lisa’s turn

…and she learned why the control stick is called a “joy stick” … we had a great ride, just like Daemion’s.

Then it was Ty’s turn …

That open door was a little too open, so we closed it before launch … that was better … a lot more comfortable for a first time Cub flyer … (the door was open again by the time we were taxiing in after our flight).

The only trouble was …. it was over too soon.

What’s so great about today?

And the best of all, a self portrait:

There is nothing, simply nothing, that is half so much worth doing as messing around in a Cub.

Why I like country airports

I guess I like country airports because:

I remember the Father's Day Fly-Ins at Talmage's on Long Island ... and the Cub I left behind when I retired from my day job.

I like my hometown airport in North Carolina because I can look up at the sound of a radial engine and watch a Stearman land right in front of me ...

Then another one lands right behind him ...

What a beautiful sight ... owned by a couple of guys just out for a good time on a good day ...

John throws a hot dog shindig with all the fixins a couple of times a year ...

John and his sister make you feel at home ... and Carleton tries to look innocent with that second hot dog ...

Life at country airports takes on a whole new meaning. I've spent a fair amount of time at airports over the last 40 years, some of them friendly, some of them not so much ... and I've decided that if all that time I spent at the not-sos made it possible to be here, then it wasn't time wasted at all.

The Latest Great Adventure

Max (the Cub – a baby bear, as in Max Baer … I guess you had to be in on that naming ceremony) & I flew from Zephyrhills to Hendersonville NC ... 6.9 hours total flying time with stops at Lake City, Swainsboro GA, and Anderson SC. All is well. I had to tweak a couple of things along the way (the gascolator set screw decided to back off a little and spring a fuel leak but I snugged it down and the leak stopped - I'm going to order a "Steve's" gascolator from Oregon and that will be a permanent fix) ... one of the planned fuel stops turned out to be deserted and no fuel at all so I had to stretch the second leg a bit but all turned out OK by the grace of God. Thank heaven the gascolator leak started on the next leg!

One thing in particular struck me as I motored along my very familiar route … the air was decidedly free of airplanes, and it a beautiful Sunday afternoon! The economy, I suppose. That’s what they all say. Time was, you had to wait in line at a gas pump or you’d hear four or five airplanes at a time on the radio in a local airport traffic pattern … sadly, not now. Maybe somebody who knows a little something about economics will wake up some day with an AHA! moment or an attack of good sense and realize that the aviation community is down to its seed corn … that’s country folks’ language, meaning that further attrition of our general aviation pilots, mechanics, support facilities and suppliers will plunge our nation into an aviation depression from which we will have a very hard time recovering. No seed corn eventually means no corn at all and the handwriting’s on the wall.

The airplane is in its hangar at the Western North Carolina Air Museum at Hendersonville and I believe I’ll go out and clean up some oil drips ... don't know yet where they are coming from but that's pretty typical of a newly rebuilt engine as you know ... all the parts have to wiggle around a little before you can finally tighten everything up where they'll stay in place.

There are some airframe parts to check out ... the oil pressure gauge and the oil temp gauge seem to be accurate and they are the most important ones anyway ... all the rest bounce around quite a bit and need to be looked at. Again, pretty typical of parts that sat in storage for almost 60 years and no way of knowing for sure just what effect all that time may have had. Could be they just need to be exercised a few times ... that's happened before.

I have a good airplane. Now it's at home on a grass runway with 4 other Cubs and 3 others within a few minutes' flying time so it's in good company. I wrote in a notebook many years ago that I had a dream of a grass runway full of little yellow airplanes and people having fun. I guess dreams really do come true.

Back in the Saddle again!

There are some itches that just have to be scratched.

We know this from staying in third world hotels and watching baseball. Aside from those annoying skin irritations, there are itches that go deep and result in either eventual treatment (thankfully without penicillin or rabies shots) or the pain of unrequited love ...

Piper Cubs are an itch like that.

After almost five years, with other airplanes in between, I'm back in a Cub. This time, in company with the best company a man could have, my son, John.

We made our first formation flight last week from Leesburg FL to Zephyrhills, where my airplane will undergo some beauty treatments before heading for the mountains and the Western North Carolina Air Museum. The air was clear and cool and smooth, the world laid out before us. He was rock-steady, holding heading and altitude perfectly. I was all over the place. His landings were better, too. I can't stand it.

For now, Max (my wife likes to name airplanes – this one is Max Baer) is in his hangar at Zephyrhills awaiting the expert hands of my friend and ace steel-tube, dope and fabric guru to work his magic.

Max, the bear.

Ralph

I met Ralph Bishop over 30 years ago at the little airport in my home town of Hendersonville NC. Ralph is an A&P, IA, and knows more about steel tube, wood and fabric airplanes and old engines than just about anybody I know. He got a special award in December, The Charles Taylor Master Mechanic Award for 50 years of violation-free service as an airplane mechanic.

Ralph and a copy of his award

He got to thinking about it and December 9, 2010, was 60 years to the day that he joined the Air Force, so it has a double significance for him. Ralph is a pilot and flight instructor, too, but his heart is in the innards of flying machines.

If you happen to have an old airplane and need some help as you pass by western North Carolina, give Ralph a call. He's in the book.

Congratulations, old friend.

Bye Bye Birdie

She's gone. Sold to a young fellow from Florida who has the talent (ATP, A&P, IA) and the time to finish the restoration of this magnificent airplane. I just wasn't flying her enough and there's something about my Scottish heritage that deplores waste ... (then, there's the Irish side that loves a good time - the two are constantly at war).

The Next Good Thing is out there - maybe another Cub, maybe an amphib, definitely a Light-Sport Airplane. I learned after more than a few years that flying is my thing, not Anina's. To Go Up and Look Down - maybe the title of my next book. Of course I have to finish the first one, first.

So long, Harry.

The problem with old friends - We joked that the emphasis was on the "old" - is that they eventually head west.

I liked Harry Gunther. He was always nice to me and an affable sort. He could engage in spirited debate at times. Harry was a retired machinist and flew as a crewmember in the Navy version of the B-24 during the unpleasantness of the 1940s. Shown here with his beloved Aeronca Champ at a Father's Day fly-out to Talmage Farm on Long Island.