 | NORDO News |  | PLAN NOW - IT'S ALMOST HERE
 |  If you plan to attend this years Wood, Fabric, & Tailwheels Fly-In, then now is the time to make your plans. If you're not much of a camper, hotel rooms are getting scarce and you should book them now. If you wish to be here Friday night for the big BBQ, then you need to RSVP. If you don't like to carry cash, you can purchase your dinner tickets and more in advance from our online store.
As always, it's shaping up to be a great event this year. People are calling and emailing from all over who plan to be here with their interesting machines. Will you be among them? We hope so.
Also, be on the look-out for a late August version of NORDO News which will contain more detailed fly-in information.
Wood, Fabric, and Tailwheel Fly-In September 26, 2009
RSVP and/or Pre-Purchase Tickets [CLICK HERE]
RENTAL CARS for more information [CLICK HERE]
VOLUNTEER sign-up [CLICK HERE]
LODGING [CLICK HERE]
MOTORHOME, RV, AUTO TENT CAMPING [CLICK HERE]
| POWER LINES BEING BUILT ACROSS THE RIVER
|  Approximately four miles south of the airport, power lines are being constructed over the river. These should not pose a problem for normal airport operation. However, for those of you who like to cruise the river valley, now is the time to change your flight patterns.
The rest of you should note that these lines will be stretching across the river into Indiana from the coal fired power plant that is downriver from us in Kentucky. The towers holding them are higher on the Indiana side than Kentucky and you should plan to be well above the river valley ridges before reaching them.
| CROSS COUNTRY - LITERALLY
|  During the past month we have been visited by a large number of people who were literally crossing the country. Perhaps it was just coincidence but for a while there it seemed that pilots from the coasts were abandoning them.
 There were even two guys through here in a Pietenpol who were enroute to Dayton for the air race to Oshkosh. Others were making once in a lifetime journeys, some were looking for peace, and others were merely on a long vacation. If you are ever crossing the country and need a friendly place to set down for the night like these folks did, we hope you'll keep us in mind.
| SINFUL SUNDAY - LAST ONE THIS YEAR
|  Once again, despite a poor weather forecast, the turnout for July's Sinful Sunday was great. The numbers for these events continue to surprise us. Even more amazing is the fact that nearly half of all people at each of the events this year have been new to the field. Where they keep coming from we don't know but it clearly shows that if given a fun, friendly, laid back place to visit, there are pilots out there who still love to fly.
August's Sinful Sunday (this Sunday 8/9/09) will be the last of the year so make your plans now to visit. Our flavor of the month, peach milkshakes and sundaes, will acquire their incredible taste from the peaches at Reed's Orchard. This farm has been in the same family since way back in the 1800's and they produce a fruit with such great flavor it makes your knees buckle. If you've ever tasted them, you know exactly what we're talking about. Also, we hope to have some for sale for you to take home. See you here.
| LISTEN TO YOUR ELDERS
|  "The Church of Aviation, that's what it is; this thing that I've joined". Those were the words of a young aviator after a crazy day of flying and that's how I feel to this day. Back then my pen recorded the self witnessed miracles of aviation with the zeal of a celibate monk. Hoping to preserve the knowledge of our dwindling sect, every flight's weight and balance became the parchment upon which I recorded both the exciting and mundane with the clarity of a seismograph. Depending on conditions, some words recorded a turbulence Richter scale of 7.8 while others revealed nearly imperceptible aftershocks. And, I suppose, should they ever be discovered eons in the future, scientist will struggle for days attempting to figure out the reason for the many jagged words. But with great effort, they will also surely note the small aviation oddities contained within.
In another life, sitting reserve at Lee Bottom was clearly against the rules. The company employing me at the time had a one hour call out that made this place too far away. Fortunately though, they also insisted we wear airline uniforms to load freight and fly DC-3's. This gave me choice and so I chose to go with the uniform and fudge the reserve.
Living life on stand by is an art form. Every pilot has that thing they like to do to make the most of this limbo. Mine was to hang out at Lee Bottom with Fritz. During those times we would watch the Wings Channel, discuss the intricacies of interwar aircraft, and exchange political opinions. Occasionally though , something would come over the old guy changing the course of the conversation to something he felt very important. The secret of a no pump start is the one that always stands out.
How could I forget it? Deep in debate over square tubing in Hawker Biplanes, a look swept his face indicating the appearance of a long forgotten memory. "Rich" he said, "if you ever get stuck somewhere with a bad fuel pump, there's actually another way to get her started". Knowing the "three" needed a fuel pump to start and that I knew the same, I listened closely to what he thought I might need to know. "Here's what you do. Find yourself a steel Folgers can and fill it with gas from the sump. Then flip a coin to see who gets to start the plane. The loser climbs on the engine with the dead pump, When the guy in the cockpit gets her through a few blades the guy with the can dumps the fuel deep in the throat of the intake and beats it off the wing as the other guy makes her hot. If you do it right, she'll start". Like the aviator simpleton I was, my only thought at the time was "neat", and then the pager went off.
An hour and ten minutes later, the sound of gears meshing to internal combustion caught my ear as I ran through the fence. Lifting the ladder inside, my usual partner in crime, Marvin, could be heard counting blades on number one. As it came to life with a whine and a cough, the smell of warm rain on the ramp was replaced with exhaust and gossip. Buckling in and sliding the window open, I began to get the rundown. Word on the street was that our company was about to fold and that it would likely happen while we were in the air.
Pulling away from the blocks, I reviewed the flight plan I had seen all too often. Our destination was Oshawa Canada and on this night the weather would be good almost all the way. Everything it seemed was destined to go as planned. And so it did, right up the point it came time to pay for our Canadian fuel with the company credit card.
When rumors of shutdown are flying higher than your planes, pilots tend to get sketchy. Needless to say then, sitting there in another country, with clear evidence the corporate accounts had been frozen at midnight, we began to get concerned. Calling the company didn't help. As usual, the words on the other end sounded more like the hiss of a snake than someone concerned about two kids who had just crossed  the border and run up a tab. Coiling tighter, the powers that be back at home suggested we use our own cards. Holding our ground, the miraculous discovery of another card occurred and soon it was used to pay our bill over the phone. By this time, Marvin and I were well ready to get back to the USA. In our minds, it was only a matter of time before the repo man swooped in from the darkness to take our machine and leave us where we stood. Therefore we ran straight for the plane.
In record time, number two came to life easing our tension as the potential for our departure grew. Quickly though that tension returned when number one refused to follow suit. Over and over we tried until it was realized that in our frenzy to depart we had missed a dead fuel pump. "A dead fuel pump; what are the chances?" I though to myself as I waited to hear what the company would have to say about this. Their answer, that we'd have to spend the night and get our own rooms didn't sit well in our minds. That, to us, was the final clue of insolvency. So, right there on the ramp in Oshawa, using the resident AN-2 as an umbrella, Marvin and I decided the rumors were true and that we would get home however we could. With timing and rumor were conspiring against us, for a moment we even considered leaving the freight right there on the ramp. Instead, we chose another option.
Walking softly from FBO with a nearly full can of Maxwell House, I chuckled to myself. In the pilot's lobe of my brain, the thought of a great plan going south because of the wrong brand of coffee percolated over and over. Whatever the answer was, we were about to find out.
Shortly thereafter it was decided the coin toss step would be waived using line a), of sub-section d), chapter eight of the aviators bible; he with the stupid idea will carry the most danger. That made me the local expert and climbing onto the wet wing of the Douglas my duty. Being a good soldier, I gladly took the point and trudged forward for the intake cradling our liquid salvation.
Perched precariously behind the still propeller, I planned my getaway. When it began to turn I took the can and slung the contents deep in the throat like Fritz had said. Unfortunately, as I turned to beat it off the wing, also as he had also suggested, I forgot an important lesson I had learned on my own.
"Fill the oil and check the gas" is a phrase known to all pilots of large radials. Where all that oil goes is a mystery, but I can say with great surety that after a few hours of flight much of it ends up on top of the wing behind the engine. Spinning around to make my hasty retreat, the drizzle from overhead combined with the oil and smooth aluminum to erase any trace of traction the airfoil once had. Watching in slow motion as my feet flailed wildly in front of me, I planned for what was next. "Here it comes" I thought, as my seat-of-the-pants instrument hit the skin hard and began its journey downward toward the trailing edge. Accelerating faster than a fat kid on a water slide, the vintage rivets left modern marks as I departed the aircraft and plummeted out of control onto the ramp. Staggering to my feet, a huge flash lit the area and warmed my back. Turning to witness the impending doom, what I saw instead was an engine churning to life as it sucked any evidence of fire back into action.
Stunned and scraped, I stood there thinking of Fritz and his random last minute advice. Thanks to him, in business or not, we were going home. | OSHKOSH MEMORIES
| | The Ride - This year Ginger and I rode to Oshkosh for a change. In years past, we always flew but this one was special in that we were able to ride up with our friend Ron Alexander and a wonderful group of people in his DC-3. It was a great trip up with a smooth blue morning sky and a cumulus filled red tinted sunset for the trip home. On top of these things, it was Ginger's first time flying in a DC-3.
One Tiny Marble– During our time at Oshkosh the world was, once again, proven to be quite small. Upon blocking into our parking spot at Airventure, we stepped off the DC-3 to the sight of a Comper Swift and Klemm landing at the field. Myself I was amazed at the sight as I knew these ultra-rare planes and that they were from far away. Having been shipped in from Australia for the show, I felt fortunate to have seen them.
The next day Ginger and I were riding the bus from the dorms to the airport when I decided to send some photos of the Comper and Klemm to the only person I knew who would be interested, our friend Nick Stroud at Aeroplane Magazine in London. There as the bus surged and rocked its way to the airport, Nick and I emailed back and forth about the machines I had seen. Then he sent an email back to ask if I had seen the owner,  Roy, and that if I were to see him to please tell him hello. As I was reading that very email, some guy sitting next to us leaned over to Ginger to say he liked her shirt. It was one of our "Grass Runways, The Green Alternative" t's. The two of them then began talking about aviation and as I responded back to Nick I was sure I heard Ginger's new friend say "Klemm". So I stopped, leaned into the conversation, and asked "Excuse me but did you just say Klemm" to which he responded "Yes, I brought it and the Comper over for Oshkosh, my name's Roy". Therefore right then and there I said "Nick from Aeroplane says hello". It was a truly amazing moment. At that instant, on that day, on that specific section of one bus out of hundreds, four people from three continents struck up a conversation with each other not knowing that we were in some way already connected. That's when I took this photo of Ginger talking to Roy and sent it to Nick as proof I wasn't lying. Roy by the way has a beautiful grass runway on a stretch of river North of Sydney. We hope to visit him in the future.
Family Reunion – I don't know how many people go to family reunions these days but anyone who has ever been to one knows the feeling of meeting distant family members for the first time. Often, as I am told, it can be surprising to find how far your family tree stretches and this year, more than ever, Oshkosh felt that way to us. Apparently, our little airport has a much bigger extended family than either of us as a great number of people from all over stopped us to say hello. To those of you from far off places who went out of your way to thank us for keeping this airport open, it was great meeting you. We hope you are able to visit and enjoy it for yourself in the future.
Funniest Photo – The funniest photo from Oshkosh involves a Beech 18 and the owners who were allowing anyone with a statement, verbal or visual, to place it anywhere on the plane with finger paint. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, the same owners felt inclined to censor some of the comments and I was there with my camera. This photo, I feel, tells the story more succinctly than any words.
Water Flying - The seaplane base is one of our favorite get-a-ways at Oshkosh. It's like a different world over there where everyone moves slower, people smile more, and the movement of just one plane stirs the crowd. If you ever get a chance to go, it is a must do. | WHATEVER HAPPENED TO "PUBLIC SERVANTS"
| | So there I was at Oshkosh, once again, having that same old conversation. You know the one; it starts with a question and ends up just short of an aneurism. The exchange left me worn out and concerned. How did we, as a country, end up this way; like France?
If you read this newsletter on a regular basis, you know that Ginger and I have been working to add a seaplane landing area to the airport. And as all things go when dealing with government agencies, they see their job as how to say "no" instead of how to help. Therefore, while visiting Oshkosh, we decided to visit with the Seaplane Pilots Association to see if anyone there could answer a specific question, "what constitutes seaplane landing area markings". What we got instead was a friendly lecture on how to deal with the FAA.
Our new best friend at the SPA had this to say; they have the power, kiss their asses, don't demand anything, remember they are all good people who only have a job to do, do you best to understand how hard their job is (with a supplied sympathetic example), and things will go much better. This, as you can imagine, made me cringe to a point the SPA guy could tell I was near seizure. So naturally I had to disagree, but only after attempting to be nice. Yet no matter what I had to say, this guy was on a mission to let us know how good government is, how we should grovel and take what we get, and that it is a waste of time to demand service when they have the power.
Before I go any further, I think it would be prudent for me to clear up any misconceptions you may have at this point. When dealing with the FAA I think you should treat and consider them as you would anyone else, friendly, cordial, and as equals; there's always that chance you find one. Then once you've done so, the balls in their court. Moving forward from there the relationship is strictly determined by the reaction or amount of service received from the FAA person who gets paid with your tax dollars. After being insulted with the premise of needing an appointment to see the FAA (as if that many people want to visit), being treated like a terrorist, and insulted with the level of service or useful intelligence offered, I feel you should then give them one more opportunity to make good. Then the good times are over.
Of course I know that when things get heated these guys will absolutely abuse their power to make it damn near impossible for me to get things done but at least I won't be a pathetic, cowering, sorry piece of crap enabler willing to be spoon fed small morsels from jackasses at the expense of the next guy like so many other people in this country seem willing to do. Reading this over, I expect several of you will be thinking that perhaps I am too demanding of my government. If that's the case here's how I see the logic of the issue.
As pilots and citizens, there is a choice to make. We can be enablers, who see the government as a golden cow to be worshiped and pleaded to for mercy or we can be citizens who demand merely that our government serves those who pay the bills and allow it to exist. Enablers or Citizens, those are the options.
Admittedly, there are problems with both of these options. The first one, being enablers, has a problem that once was obvious to Americans. Being so means handing over your freedom to mindless bureaucrats in exchange for having an easy life. Unfortunately, your life actually gets more difficult as the feds take more and more control. Soon it is nearly impossible, even for the most staunch enabler, to hold hands and play kissy face with their favorite fed when a few of their hold out friends continue to "harass" the FAA with simple demands of service. The Fed Gods it seems aren't happy until everyone drinks the cool aid. The second option, being a responsible citizen, has one critical issue. As long as a few are willing to grovel, the Feds are able to continue in the usual matter as they can point to those who they've been able to "help" or work with side by side.
Unfortunately for both groups, neither group can get anything done as long as the other exists. It's an all or nothing issue. Therefore, I have this suggestion.
Let's choose up sides and get it over with. What? You think I'm joking? A little in house aviation civil war might do the industry some good. | ATC TURNOVER
| |  Put government in charge of anything and they'll screw it up. ATC is now the latest great example of this. Recent levels of ATC retirements have the agency dangerously overworked. I don't like to stir up fear without cause so I hope you understand that what I am discussing is a real problem.
ATC, with its massive amount of new hires, is clearly showing the strain of a lack of talent. No matter where you fly, every tower, center, or approach control frequency is now manned or unmanned (a nod to the girls out there) by new hires being taught on the fly with limited time available for any training on anything over and above the basics. This means that every pilot now has to be extremely vigilant in listening, hearing, and questioning every direction given to them by ATC. Am I an ATC hater? Nope. I always try to help ATC when I can and I greatly appreciate the job they do. Unfortunately, the ATC folks of yesterday are just that, yesterday.
Amazingly, it's not just pilots saying these things. Recently several ATC friends have told us of alarming training schedules and percentages of new hires. Others have expressed their own concerns for safety. And another one simply said "scary." But what is our FAA doing to counter this loss of aviation knowledge? I mean besides beating up on the good controllers they already have.
Here's their solution. The FAA is accepting applications from any U.S. citizen under age 31 who wants to be an air traffic controller. That's right; you have to be under 31. Now how many out of work airline pilots, with intense knowledge of ATC, and a working knowledge of how airplanes operate are under 31? Some of them yeah sure but why the age limit? At a time when the average skill level and aviation based knowledge pool is shrinking at ATC, the FAA wants newbies! The obvious solution is to hire any pilot willing to take the job yet the FAA is a government office and that would be logical. But there are even more things wrong with this.
Today's new controllers, like today's new pilots, have the attitudes of their generation and with it comes a much stronger "us vs. them" mentality that can only lead us down a dark ugly road. At the very least, it will lead to more unnecessary violations of pilots, ill will, and less cooperation. Meanwhile thousands of lives are on the line. The next time you hear of a mid-air, airspace violation, or controller shortage, remember what I said. This is just another case of the FAA screwing us all, controllers, pilots, and passengers alike.
| PART 23 CHANGES IN THE WORKS
| | How do changes to Part 23 Certification affect antique and classic aircraft? You might be surprised. During the past year, according to a recent piece in AeroNews, all of our aviation groups have been working with the FAA to make it easier to certify Part 23 aircraft. Needless to say, their solution to most things is to make it match up to the rules used by other countries. Right or wrong, that's their new thing and that's what they're going to do. But I'm interested in something else.
Buried deep inside all the proposed changes, are a few interesting items of importance to us. There you can find items like "get back to stalls and stall recovery techniques", informing pilots about load limits, and educating them on maneuvering speed. Hello! Aren't those considered basic flying skills?
Furthermore, this group recommended the FAA should encourage business jet pilots to fly at Vref or Vref -5 instead of the current Vref +/-5 when approaching a runway. For those of you who don't deal with these numbers, Vref is essentially 1.3 Vso or stall with a thirty percent buffer. I wanted to discuss this because landing way too fast is a problem across the board and not just with bizjet pilots. This issue and the others mentioned all stem from poor initial training and attempting to fix the problem several steps down the road is futile. It is therefore also exactly what I would expect from the FAA. But hey, it's nice to know somebody actually sees the problem.
Myself, I can attest to this issue because where I work it is common for pilots to land at Vref + 15. And God forbid a pilot crosses the numbers at Vref -5 because if they do, the other, usually younger guy, often is near panic. It's frustrating enough to see someone land a Champ at seventy knots instead of forty, but to know commercial operations have to hire pilots without the most basic of skills or understanding of stall speeds because that is all they have to choose from is alarming. This gets me to my point.
Antique and Classic aircraft demand excellent basic flying skills to be a successful pilot thereof. But if we continue to mass produce pilots without basic flying skills who will be left to fly them? It's a real issue and unless owners start creating new pilots with the necessary skills, it doesn't matter how many we restore, they will all be grounded. | WORK-KAMPERS ARRIVE
| |  This year's work kampers, Larry and Sharon Hagen along with their Golden Retrievers: Ginger and Bogey, just arrived and are looking forward to their time here.
Please be sure to welcome them if you get a chance and don't forget to thank them for their help. They'll be here through the fly-in so we expect they'll meet a lot of new people.
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