Worked about a half-shift anyway the first night (after a longish day of travel), so I was able to get up early enough on a super-fine Saturday morning to go out to Poplar Grove, about 50 miles away. Called the flight school out there at C77 and found out their 140 was not available until the next weekend... so I tried my backup: Ken and Lorraine Morris, who run the Cessna 120/140 Association and its website. They have a house at the airport and more than one 140, and they'd invited me to stop by, although Lorraine had told me they might be away that weekend.
Lucky for me they'd stayed home, and the invitation was still good... so, knowing a storm was due for Sunday morning, I hurried by train and bus to Rockford, where she would pick me up. The gentleman sitting in front of me on the bus from O'Hare turned out to be Gene, Ken's father, who had flown in from Dallas to help them with one of their projects: a '41 Culver Cadet (he's owned and restored one before). I overheard him on his cellphone talking to his son and realized they were talking about me, so I introduced myself.
Gene is one of those "ancient pelicans" I like to chat with: he's done a lot of flying, including a stint with American Airlines flying some classic iron. He also knows famed 102-year-old aviator Jimmy Johnson, and has flown with him. :o
So I was pretty impressed already, even before Lorraine drove us over to her great big house with an attached hangar, right by the runway at C77. When I entered the hangar, my head almost exploded. No, it was not the dope fumes from the recent work on the Culver fuselage (which was surrounded by admiring neighbors and assorted airport bums, each clutching a can of beer courtesy of their hosts), it was the whole effect: the big hangar/workshop, the Culver, the Bonanza, not one but two C-140s, a Woody Pusher, and myriad other stuff... these people were living in my dream world!
Ken and his wife are both professional pilots who also restore aircraft and just enjoy flying for the hell of it, and they made me feel very welcome, although they were busy. The others filtered out, and Gene set to work immediately on the Culver, digging out the windshield and door frames and tinkering with them. Ken greeted me briefly and chatted a bit, but the Culver soon sucked him back into its vortex.
Lorraine grabbed me for the 10-cent tour, starting with the "sewing room" above the hangar where she does absolutely masterful aircraft interior restoration, with very little equipment. She was currently working on some Navajo seats, and also showed me some C140 seat frames. I quickly decided that despite the distance, when I got my own plane she would do any necessary interior work. It was a no-brainer.
There was a lot to learn from all three of these characters, and I had to avoid gawking at their splendid home (with the excellent view of the runway from the living room!) and pay attention to what they showed and told me, as I stumbled around the hangar admiring the collection. There was a C140 with wings detached and freshly recovered; the interior was gutted, and while the menfolk worked on the Culver L. pointed out a number of things to look for when buying a C140.
Then we finally got to talking about doing some flying... the sun was still pretty high and the wind was calm, under a perfect blue winter sky. To my delight, their airworthy C140, a beautiful A model named "Charlie" (Lorraine is one of those lady aviators who likes to give her planes boys' names, and Ken doesn't fight it), was on its winter skis at the moment, and there was a decent layer of snow still on the grass runways near the big paved one.
For some reason I wound up in the right seat, but as it turned out it didn't matter. It was rather difficult climbing in with the plane jacked up on its skis, with little removeable dolly wheels attached for taxiing on the paved taxiway/driveway.
L. took control initially, because it's tricky taxiing on the goofy little wheels with no brakes. At the end of the main runway, she nudged the plane onto the fringe of the snow, and we shut it down and hopped out to remove the dollies, which were left in the snow by the runway.
Then the fun really began, as Lorraine gave me my first skiplane lesson (she's also a CFII).
With no ski on the tailwheel and some wet, packed snow, it took some doing to get Charlie moving, and care had to be taken when pulling power to slow down... it would decelerate slowly at first, then begin to "stick" very rapidly, all of a sudden. She took the controls briefly to turn the plane around for takeoff, then it was all mine again.
I eased in the power and followed her instruction to take off in much the same way it's done on wheels: let the tail up and just hold a slight nose-high attitude. The airspeed indicator was way over to my left, so I pretty much ignored it, preferring to let Charlie show me what "he" wanted. In no time at all, we were breaking loose, skimming the uneven surface briefly, then up we went in a shallow climb, with the very healthy O-200 blasting away.
The airport was pretty busy, so at first we just wandered off to the north, with L. pointing out some things, including more than one defunct strip that this plane had flown from at one time or another. She steered me to an active grass runway, but it had been plowed... oh well. I maneuvered around for a while, again just trying to see if I could trim for hands-off flight. It was tricky, even though the air was smooth... took me a while. Part of it, i guess, was that in the right seat, I kept reaching for the little trim wheel and finding the flap handle instead. And my turns were pretty bad, altitude-wise... the old right-seat thing, I guess. but it was dreamlike... the fine blue sky, the superb airplane, and Lorraine's cheerful company.
Eventually we turned back towards C77, and Lorraine offered to let me try a few landings. I was pretty unsure at first as to where our snowy strip was, and flew a very poor circuit the first time, but coming in over the road with no flaps, I made a fairly good touchdown. Charlie rebounded as we slid over a hump on the runway, a bit hot, but all I had to do was hold the yoke where it was and it settled on quietly enough. I tried to work the elevator by feel as we slid along, trying not to dig in the tailwheel without letting the tips dig in either. And of course you have to just keep going, no stopping... power back in, then full rudder along with full power to force it around in a wide 180 for the back-taxi.
"Do another one", said L., so off I went to do another. Next takeoff was better, got a steeper climb going once the old "guy" was ready, and flew a better pattern. This time I tried it with flaps, which helped slow us down a bit at least.
But I was dragging it in with power on short final, so Lorraine prompted me to dump the nose some. The attitude coming over the road was alarming initially, but it was so very easy to just pull back a hair at the right moment and get the old Cessna to skim onto the snow. A little bouncy again, but better.
She insisted I do another, and I did not argue.
Two more confidence-building 180s, and I hauled Charlie back up to the pattern again, this time getting configured just right at the abeam point and coming in for a proper landing.
Had to do another, of course, and it was not quite as good, but better than the first two.
I taxiied back towards the paved runway, pulled the power out, and Charlie obediently slid to a stop right by the discarded dollies on the icy fringe. Shut it down again, climbed out, and helped L. put the dollies back on, then she told me to taxi it back to the house while she walked alongside to shove the tail over if necessary, because even with the tailwheel, it would not steer very well on the dollies. I misunderstood her at first, and started taxiing a bit too fast... fortunately, I stopped at what I though was the correct intersection, and she managed to catch up and explain what she wanted me to do.
After that it went well enough... I let Charlie stop again, this time at the right place, and Lorraine hauled the tail over so I could ease the plane into their driveway.
That sure was a memorable flight, but it was only part of a memorable visit. Ken and Gene were kind enough to pause in their work to chat about my flight, then the beers were set aside and the work continued. I offered to help Lorraine get the skis off Charlie and put his wheels back on; this was almost as exciting as the flight, as I love handling tools and getting my hands greasy, and it was my first time doing anything to a plane besides tightening the occasional Dzus fastener.
I managed to make myself useful without damaging anything or dropping a gear shim bolt inside the fuselage, and L. called Ken over to torque those bolts down and give his blessing as the government-recognized mechanic.
Afterwards we joined the guys by the Culver, and I felt like a lone wolf who's been allowed to feast on a strange pack's kill without challenge: bemused but thankful. There was much discussion about how the fuel tank straps were to be mounted until somebody rummaged in the parts bin one more time and produced two small, very finely welded brackets. "Those guys used to do that for 8 hours a day, every day," Gene noted when I commented on the quality.
Since the last bus was at 7PM and I didn't have to work that night, it was decided I should join them for dinner and crash in the guest room. We enjoyed a simple but hearty dinner courtesy of Chef Ken ("I don't cook", Lorraine told me), watched a recorded History Channel program about Heinkel bombers, had more beers, and talked nonstop about flying, planes, and, uh, flying.
All three of these experienced commercial pilots didn't have much to say about my idea to learn to fly on instruments in a 140, but they didn't scoff outright. Ken pointed out that he'd always thought of that rating as a tool to avoid bad weather rather than go through it, and I couldn't argue with that.
Finally we all said our goodnights, and before passing out in their big guest bed I looked out the window one more time at the airport, now being pelted with a nasty mix of snow and rain, still not really sure if it was all real or not.
There was activity in the hangar again first thing the next morning, and I was reluctant to go catch my bus when there was still so much work to be done on the Culver. But it was time to say "see ya".
My mere thank-yous were inadequate, I know... I told them that if they were ever in my neck of the woods, etc., etc... I hope I get an opportunity to return that wonderful favor!
You can get your own glimpse at the morris clan's enviable lifestyle here:
http://www.taildraggeraviation.com/
