SoCal EAA/Warbird Squadron 16

Written years ago but still manages to capture the thrill of real grass roots flying.

For me this is a sad time as well as a happy time, it is sad because it is time to leave all the people I love and the new friendships I have made over the past few months. Who said that parting is such sweet sorrow, it is only temporary however and each year I am ever mindful as to how swiftly the time passes. It has only been a few short months since I returned from New York (October) our work on Sierra Charlie didn't even come up to speed until well into November, around February we really picked up speed and started to make progress. Now it is May and again we are tapering off our efforts to complete the restoration of N-121 SC. I have been blessed however by all the support and good cheer among this tenacious group of Beech Lovers. When we complete this airplane our rewards will be measured in many ways.

But spring is a time of rebirth and the sirens of the coming summer pull strongly at the Sand in my Shoes. What with Oshkosh 92, The Twin Beech Convention at the Beech Aircraft factory in Wichita, Kansas in October. The Annual Twin Beech Banquet at Robbins restaurant in Oshkosh. The once a year early morning Pancake Breakfast at "Jacks" airport high in the beautiful Adirondack mountains of upstate New York. This once a year event is for Tail Draggers only, no exceptions, we pour real New York State Maple Syrup on those pancakes. The flights with Steve Israel off of one of the lakes or the peaceful Mohawk River with the Taylorcraft on floats. The early morning formation breakfast flights to Cooperstown, New York over the beautiful, majestic, bucolic rolling green hills of Cherry Valley. Bob generally leads the way in the Cessna 195, we are down low from 500 to 700 feet over the tree’s tops and farms along the way, we only climb to clear obstructions like ugly TV towers and Power Lines. The smell of freshly cut grass comes up into the cockpit, we joyfully exchange slot positions for better camera shots along the way. The little airstrip is dotted with other earlier arrivals, no matter we are in no hurry, the smell of coffee as we enter the airport café, they all look alike to me, somehow they are frozen in a pleasant peaceful time warp. No need to look at the menu, order any thing you like and the price is always $2.95 or $3.95 with all the coffee you can drink. We gaze out the window and critique every landing.

There are other vivid images that come to mind, I slowly preflight the beautiful Red Waco UPF-7; N-32127 built in 1941 and as original as they come. The morning air is still cool and the smell is unforgettable, no smog here, every tree, every blade of grass and every weed and flower puts out a different unmistakable smell of country freshness. The tanks are full and the oil has been checked, I don my Leather jacket, stretch my white silk scarf around my neck and tuck it into the jacket so the slip stream doesn't blow it up into my eyes. It feels cool and soft and brings memories of De Ja Vu, how many times have I wrapped that cool scarf around my neck ? You might not know this but I bought that scarf years ago in Paris long before this Waco came into my life. It had been my dream to own and fly another Waco UPF-7 and that scarf was my first step on that journey, how do you like that for a goal? I toss my leg up on to the wing walk, grab the hand hole in the wing and swing my leg up over the cockpit coaming and place one foot on the seat cushion and quickly step down into the cockpit. This whole episode of getting into the airplane takes place in a split second and is effortless. The very act when done properly is a sign of a seasoned open cockpit pilot.

The Waco quickly surrounds me, as now I have become part of the airplane. It is incredibly comfortable and feels about as comfortable as an old Shoe or hat would feel. With another sweep of my hand I grasp my helmet from its resting place covering the joy stick and slip it over my head, it is harder to do now because of the size of the headset and mike. I awkwardly plug in the headset cords and as a last step I don my soft leather gloves, another quick motion and I have my belt fastened and with a short jerk on the end have it cinched up tight where I like it. ( Have you ever been upside down in an open cockpit airplane?). Wind the clock and set the altimeter to 880 feet for Hilltop Aerodrome. One last quick glance around to check that all is in order and stowed and I reach for the primer. The 220 Continental starts best when cool with eight or more judicious shots of prime. Master switch on, magneto switches on and flip the starter switch, the prop turns three or four turns and one cylinder at a time comes to life, a quick check of the oil pressure gauge shows that all is well. The cockpit fills with smoke and that wonderful gas and hot oil smell that is a part of every flight. The engine has cleared its throat now and is at a fast idle, a quick burst of power and we have moved out on to the freshly mowed grass strip, a quick check for traffic and we are taxing on the runway. After a very short taxi, we are doing our run up and systems check out, a clearing 360 turn on the ground and we are lined up for Take off. The Waco runs along the ground for about 800 feet and leaps into the air, I am always amazed at how quickly she gets off. In just seconds I am looking at a beautiful vista of Gods green earth from a vantage point that many others never see. Two quick turns to the left and I throttle back on down wind, Carburetor heat on and a check for traffic and a clear runway, no deer, no animals, no tractors, no model airplanes, no one taxing out. I move the throttle back to idle; there are several sharp backfires from the exhaust, a sound that invariably brings a smile to my face. No need to look at the instruments, as the singing slip stream through the wires send a musical message to my ear. I know how fast were going and the pressure on the stick tells me the status of our flight. All attention is out the side of the windscreen; several visual cues are put into play, runway clear is one of them because as the nose comes up for flare all forward visibility falls to zero. The Waco makes a pillow soft three point landing exactly where I wanted it to. I make a 180 and taxi back to the morning crowd of RC modelers and continue past their position for safety. I quickly signaled for my first two passengers to come aboard, it was Vic and his five year old son JR. They both don helmets and over the interphone Vic tells me they are ready to go, J R gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up signal. The 220 Continental barks loudly as we charge down the runway, JR jumps up and down in his seat and waves his arms, what a way to spend a Sunday in New York,

Care to join me............. Enrico

By Capt Enrico Bottieri

Posted 07-05-2007