Wow, Time Flies!

No pun intended!

When Spring Comes..

Thoughts turn once again to flying. I was digging through some old photos on the computer and came up with the 1933 Pietenpol that I almost finished over a 10 year span. I had it all ready for covering when I retired and moved to Whitecourt. It soon became apparent that flying as a hobby was an expensive luxury.

Elaine with fuselage

The wings were Sitka Spruce, aircraft grade, with about 5000 1/2 inch nails and a lot of special glue holding it together.

Wing ready for covering

I rebuilt the engine to factory specifications. I only wanted 95 horse power out of it. I could do that without going to a gear reduction. Some folks used this motor to power sand rails, getting 850 horse power! This was without breaking any rods.

"69 Corvair engine in basement being rebuilt

6 Cylinder opposed engine, Air cooled

I had to learn oxy acetylene welding to do the motor mounts, landing gear and struts. I passed the gas welding test.

Engine mounted

The cockpit was simple, with just enough instruments to make it legal for visual flying rules.

What the cockpit would have been like

The pilot sat in the back with the passenger up front right on the center of gravity so that no adjustment for weight and balance was required.

What it would have been like

The original designer built 31 of them at his factory in Wisconsin?, I think. The original was still being flown5 years ago and may be going yet.

The plane had several innovative break thoughs ( for 1933). It had an under camber wing that said if the nose rose up, the  wing would return the plane to level flight. Similarly, if the nose dropped, the wing would increase lift to bring it back up. This made trim tabs unnecessary.

It also lined the cock pit with3/16 inch plywood that crumbled up in the event of a crash. Previous to this, the pilot had a good chance of being skewered by broken longerons. A fellow dove it straight in from a couple of hundred feet, and walked out of it. The cockpit area was reduced to saw dust. Think of the modern car. It is designed to absorb shock the same way.

Even though it has been snowing night and day for 4 days, i still get these urges to go flying in the spring.
It would be real expensive now because I have allowed my pilot licence to lapse. A guy can still dream though, and remember the time in the air.

Lest We Forget!

My cousin, who I never got to know

Nostalgic Wednesday- Flying Days

On Short Final- Iroquois Falls

Ready to Go

Oh yeah, I miss it!

Nostalgic Thursday

As part of converting about 3000 slides to digital format, I came across this shot of a PBY, Catalina, or as we knew it in Canada the Canso. This one was used in the late 60's to ferry passengers from Minneapolis, Minnesota to Kenora, Ontario then on to God's lake, Manitoba. It was a real workhorse and one of my favourite planes. Unfortunately, I haven't seen one on 30+ years. This was taken in downtown Kenora at the Ontario Central Airline's dock. My good friend who went on to fly for Air Canada for about 19,000 hours piloted this unit on water bombing missions, until he got his chance to play with the "Big Boys".

Now and again while scanning slides, I get distracted by shots like this. It tends to slow production.

Oh, well, all in a day's work.

Nostalgic Thursday

When growing up, I had the opportunity to do a fair bit of flying. This is a shot taken in 1963 at a fly in camp about 70 air miles north of Kenora. When the plane came in, everybody turned out to unload food, gas, guests and everything that a fishing camp in an isolated area required. Even the jeep on the dock was cut in pieces and flown in.

The aircraft is a Noordyn Norseman, an ex military craft built in the 1930's. In 1963 it was already old, but reliable. It had a big round Pratt and Whitney  450 horse power radial engine. It was loud, and hence the aircraft nickname of Thunder Chicken. There are still a few flying, and I believe that Red Lake Ontario still has an annual fly in honoring the plane. Other notable aircraft were common at the dock, the de Havilland  Beaver, Otter (or Stone Boat), Twin Otter, Champion, Cessna 180, 182, 172, and even a Canso ( or PBY Flying Boat)

 Life was very different in 1963. Words that come to mind are, restful, peaceful, easy-going.

Life revolved around the dock, eating, fishing and relaxing.


I didn't guide at this camp, but went fishing with a good friend, and hunted deer and moose in the fall.

The camp handled about 120 guests at a time and had a support staff of around 30.

A big single cylinder diesel generator was brought in via ice road. It powered a town of around 5000 people in one of the northern states prior to going north. The flywheel weighted about 3 tons if I remember correctly.

Why Did I Quit Flying?

The question that some readers were asking is a good one! When we made the decision to retire early and move to Whitecourt, the die was cast. After 2 years living in town, we made the decision to purchase an acreage. This meant that all the equity that we had in the previous house was applied to the purchase. We were still tight on cash, so sold a bunch of stuff to make it happen with a very small mortgage. Once the decision was made to get the horses there was a shortage of both time and cash that said flying had to take a backseat. The above plane is a 1933 Pietenpol that I scratch built from a copy of the original plans. It was my intent to complete it, retire, and fly around the country side. The reason for building the plane was to reduce the exhorbitant cost of flying, by eliminating the major capital involved in buying a plane, and the fact that as a builder, I could do my own maintenance. The picture is about 10 years old when I was 65 pounds heavier, and the plane was a work in progress for 10 years. It was a tough decision to sell it as it basically only needed a bit of engine work and the covering. It has since sold again.

The main reasons for selling were the Acreage, the high cost of flying, and a shift in interests to life on the acreage. Some of the best people that I have met over the years were pilots. Do I regret giving it up? You betcha I do. However, for every season there is time to move on.

(Click on picture to enlarge)

An Official End

I was poking around the shed today looking for some ice fishing stuff when I came across my old flight briefcase. How fast time flys! It seems like only yesterday that I achieved a boyhood dream of learning to fly an airplane. The log book tells a different story. I got my student permit on 16/08/89 and achieved the rating of Private Pilot 06/11/90, and picked up a night rating 03/04/92.

The learning experience was terrific. Concentration, perseverance and conquering fear were the three things i remember well. Later on, I became a director of the local flying club and found some interesting stats while poking through the racks of log books in storage. For every 1000 students that started flying only 100 got their Private Licence. Of those 1000, only one managed to get a Commercial licence. In Canada, it is compulsory to be able to recover from a fully enveloped spin on command. The majority that left the program, left for the fear factor of spinning. I almost quit at this point, but being a stubborn type guy, I stuck it out. On the flight exam, I was asked to recover from a spin out of a right turn. I had never done one of these from a right turn so I "cheated" a bit and used the instruments to maintain orientation. That is one flight test I will never forget.

Looking through the log book, my first experience with carburettor icing occurred over Iroquois Falls, Ontario. I was at 4000 feet agl and 6 miles from the airport when the engine began to sputter and shake and cough and almost sneeze. Too far to glide, over forest, pull carb heat and then really begin to shake. I dropped about 2000 feet, had a clearing picked out to put it in when it recovered. Lesson learned! watch temperature for icing conditions. Pay attention!

My first long solo was from Iroquois Falls to Moosonnee on James Bay. In a Cessna 150, it should have been about a 3 1/2 hour flight. Due to a fast moving cold front, it took 5 hours, which put me at minimal fuel reserves. I'm at 5500 foot approaching Moosonee when I see this humungous fog bank right where the airport should have been! Now what? No fuel for a return, no alternate landing site other than a rail road track about 20 miles away. As I got closer, I could see the fog bank was in effect, reflection off the ice on James bay. This was the end of July. I didn't expect ice fog! The landing was uneventful and the refueller was kind enough not to comment on the very low fuel level.

I guess everyone who flys pushes the limits now and again. One day I decided to see what the world looked like from 12,500 feet. It seemed to take forever to climb up there, and then did I ever feel small. Here is a cessna 150 with a monocoque construction which means that if you took the skin off the aircraft, there was nothing left. I stayed there for 20 minutes or so, just cruising and viewing. I am sure that Timmons radio had other students do this, as they left me in peace. It defintely gives you a feeling of the awareness of God!

Cruising up the Abitibi River in winter at 50 feet elevation is another fond memory! If the engine had quit it would have been a landing on the river ice. No big deal, But with flaps down, nose down and banking and twisting down the river it was one of the best memories of flying. This was not particularly legal, but....

Alas, as I browsed through my log book, I noted that I have not flown for six years which says that my flying days are past, but the memories remain.

We have now moved on to horses, chickens and the like and someday will likely have to look back and say "that too was fun".

Sorry to get so nostalgic!