This morning, our natural
alarm clock was the chorus of croaking West Virginia frogs instead of birds as
in Alabama. Filled with a little breakfast from the lunch box, we packed up our
things and readied the airplane. Bad weather to the east pushed our course further to the west and we looked to time our landing right in Ohio so that we would be on
the ground before some other thunderstorms rolled in from the northwest.
The terrain on the Ohio side
of the river looked similar to the West Virginia side but a little more
inviting. Staying low, we followed the rolling hills northwest for over an
hour.
 |
| The Last of the Rolling Hills |
Slowly, the hills got wider, flatter, and farther apart. Crossing a few
low ridges, we crossed into level farm country—the rather abrupt change in
terrain came just as the gentleman at Newlon the day before had told us.
Supposedly, that’s as far south as the glaciers got in the last ice age.
 |
| Changing Terrain |
We continued on, soaking in
the sights and smells that only come when flying below 1,000 ft AGL. We arrived
at our next fuel stop, Rhodes Field, in south-central Ohio. It was too early
for anyone to be in but we made the obligatory fuel purchase, bathroom run, and
photo session.
We pressed on towards
Springfield Airport, just east of Dayton, Ohio and arrived as the winds and
gusts were picking up with the approach of the frontal storms. We gassed up and
for once. firmly secured the airplane in a tie down with our own ropes. We hoped
to get an Uber to get to the Air Force Museum but the guy at the FBO counter
laughed and said a round trip would cost almost $100. He mentioned they had a
courtesy car and would let us take it to the museum. In disbelief, I asked about
the time limit to which the reply came, “Well, we close at 7:00.” Enough said!
We grabbed the keys and hightailed it out of there, thankful for such an
opportunity.
We missed some turns but
eventually made it to the museum. Besides some school groups ,the museum
wasn’t too busy and we made our way through the first two bays of hangars. Lars
was taking plenty of pictures and left me in the dust to climb through a B-29
exhibit. It hit me then and there that I was weak with hunger. Lars made it through
the exhibit and found me on the other end ready for lunch. We limped to the
Valkyrie Café and ate a filling, yet rather expensive and not-so-delicious, meal
typical of museums.
 |
| The XB-70 Valkyrie |
Bloated, we headed for the
Cold War hangar. Lars just about had an attack when he saw the B-58 Hustler,
our mutually favorite jet bomber of all time. From there Lars almost died again
when he saw the XB-70 Valkyrie. We spent the most time there, in the
Experimental and Test hangar, visiting some of our favorite high-speed low-drag
aircraft of the last half of the twentieth century.
 |
| The B-58 Hustler |
Sadly, the weather improved
and it was time to get back to the Luscombe. We drove our free car back to
Springfield, paid for our gas, made plans for the night and jumped back in
‘903. The air was surprisingly smooth and we stayed low again, soaking up the
scenery of America’s farmland.
Fuel limits brought us to
8G1—a little airport south of Lake Erie. As we taxied in, an old-timer sat
watching. We shut down, gassed up, and talked airplanes with him. As I was
getting ready to run in and use the lil’ boy’s room, a little lady ran over to
the fence. “Did that fuel pump give you any issues?” she hollered. “No, worked
just fine!”
After walking out of the
restroom, the little lady who had questioned me was gathering papers on a desk in
the FBO. She introduced herself and asked about our airplane and travels. I
gave her the short version of our trip and she was blown away. With an excited
voice, she invited us to stay for their airport board meeting, likely to share the long version of our story. We kindly declined and got back on our way.
Our overnight plans had us
stopping at Geauga County Airport, the home airport of the illustrious Katie
Gross, a friend from the YJFC. Katie had begun her fascination with aviation at
Geauga County and had an essential hand in helping her mentor, Mr. David, build
and fly his Rans Coyote Experimental Airplane. Katie had contacted her EAA
friends and they were waiting for us.
Not wanting to waste
daylight, we hopped over to Erie-Ottawa Airport in Port Clinton, Ohio instead
of heading directly for Geauga. I have spent many of my summers camping under
the traffic pattern at Erie-Ottawa when my dad and I shot at the National Rifle
Matches at nearby Camp Perry. I had always dreamt of flying into this
airport and here we were, making it a reality.
We landed and taxied in.
Thankfully, the FBO was still open and we got a little courtesy car to head into
town for dinner. We ate at one of my favorite restaurants on earth, the aptly
name Crosswind Café. We then devoured ice cream at the fine Toft’s Ice Cream
Parlor, a local establishment specializing in dairy products.
Dropping the keys off at the
now-closed FBO, we hopped back in the Luscombe, ready to fulfil a bucket list
item—to land at all of the island airports just north of Port Clinton. Three of
these Lake Erie islands rest on the American side of the border and have public airports
on them.
 |
| The Lake Erie Islands |
We made the short hop over
to South Bass Island and made to two landings on their seagull-infested runway.
Thankfully, the birds there are well-trained and stayed out of the way. We then
hopped to Middle Bass and North Bass Islands making two touch-and-goes each at
these picturesque little spots of land protruding from the lake.
Fog was starting to roll in
by the time we got to North Bass and we enjoyed making our approaches through
the mystically wispy moisture blanketed above the runway. All of these little
airports use the same CTAF frequency—a neat and necessary feature for such
closely collocated fields.
Done with our early evening
foray, we headed east hopping over to the southern shore of Lake Erie. We
enjoyed the view from our low path just off the shore. The visibility was
unlimited and the shoreline seemed to stretch to infinity. After almost an hour
of flying, downtown Cleveland came into sight. We stayed under the Bravo and
called Lakefront Tower for a transition through their Class Delta to head
inland for Geauga.
 |
| Downtown Cleveland |
Just as the sun kissed the
horizon, the runway at Geauga came into sight and we joined the pattern.
Taxiing in, a gaggle made their way out of a nearby hangar towards our
airplane. They greeted us and announced they were the delegation sent by Katie.
They helped us gas up and prepped their meeting room for us to
spend the night. Mr. David, Katie’s mentor, stayed for the next several hours
to help me complete a 25-hour oil change, a necessary interval for my engine
which only has an oil screen and no filter. He selflessly shared his time and
tools at no charge. He also laughed off my accidentally spilling oil on him
twice and dropping a pair of safety wire pliers into a deep bucket of old oil.
He jollily remarked, “Well, those aren’t going to rust any time soon!”
 |
| The EAA Chapter 5 Welcome Party |
Lars’s camera had been
filling to the brim with all of our eager photography. All 32 GB of our storage
was full, so Lars made a trip to the local store in a car kindly lent to us by
Chapter 5. With storage card converter in hand, we were able to dump our photos
online so we wouldn’t have to worry about budgeting the shutter.
No comments:
Post a Comment