formerly "The View From Up Here"

Formerly titled "The View From Up Here" this column began in the Liberty Gazette June 26, 2007.

To get your copy of "Ely Air Lines: Select Stories from 10 Years of a Weekly Column" volumes 1 and 2, visit our website at https://www.paperairplanepublishing.com/ely-air-lines/

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December 29, 2020 Alternate Endings

The Liberty Gazette
December 29, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: We’re almost there. We’re nearing the light at the end of the 2020 tunnel that no one, even with 20/20 vision, could have seen coming (well, except Fauci, Gates, China, you know). Good things have continued to happen for many, but we must not forget the deep pain and grief of others. 

Considering the crazy year, we thought we’d offer some ideas for alternate endings and encourage you to think of your own: write it down, post it on social media, share it with a friend, or stick it on the fridge. You deserve it. You deserve to dream of better. Here are ours. 

Christmas break, camping out in Northern Finland. That’s my alternate ending to 2020. Fly to Helsinki, and from there to Ivalo. Several airlines go there: Finnair, Air France, Nordic Regional, Japan Airlines, Qatar Airways, Lufthansa. I’ll pick either Finnair or Lufthansa. Finnair because it’s the local, and you should (almost) always fly the local. For instance, in Cambodia, we chose Cambodian Air, not because it’s luxurious, but because that airline’s home is where we were going. Lots of unseen benefits in doing that. Usually of the political kind. Lufthansa is a superb airline, so they are never off the list. 

At the Kakslauttanen Arctic Resort, we have the choice of snow igloo, wood chalet, or an igloo made of thermal glass and steel. I’ll take glass. Think luxury here. Cold outside, but unbelievable views of Northern Lights from a snuggly warm inside. 

The resort boasts celebrity treatment with world-class service, surrounded by nature. It’s in the Saariselkä Fell region of Finnish Lapland. If you’re inclined to tell anyone where you are, there’s free WiFi, but in my alternate ending, I’ll keep that a secret to share later.

The restaurants serve Laplandic specialties such as reindeer and char-grilled salmon, but we’ll request the vegan options in advance. 

There’s a relaxation room with an open fireplace, and a nearby ice hole, in case we need to cool off.

Husky and reindeer safaris can be arranged, and we can go snowmobiling, cross-country skiing, rent Nordic walking sticks and snowshoes.

Mike: Not that I wouldn’t enjoy spending time in an igloo—I’ve built them while snow camping in the Sierra Nevada—but I’m thinking of a warmer climate. Say, the middle of the Indian Ocean. The Maldives. This country has about 1,200 coral islands on which to get lost. And they are all accessible by seaplane. 

Not far from the equator, and surrounded by so much water, the year-round temperatures rarely vary from the mid-eighties. We’d airline into Male, the capital, and from there, take one of the 50 DeHavilland Twin Otters on floats to the Conrad Resort on Rangali Island and stay in one of their underwater villas. 

I’m not sure who would think they were in an aquarium, the fish or us. But it’s a unique year-end destination, a long way from the other parts of this crazy world. 

We’re looking forward to a better year!

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

December 22, 2020 Love is in the Air

The Liberty Gazette
December 22, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Rachel knew as a teen that she would be a pilot. She began flying lessons in Santa Paula, California, and after becoming a private pilot with an instrument rating, she began working toward a commercial certificate. One day, she drove out to the Camarillo airport to fly a different airplane, a Piper Arrow. And this was her lucky day. 

With an instructor, she was flying instrument approaches into Camarillo, followed by a few turns in the traffic pattern for touch-and-go’s. Since this airport has an air traffic control tower, pilots must radio the tower before entering their airspace. That rule put Rachel in direct contact with Tyler, a dashing young controller still in training, just a year out of the U.S. Air Force. 

Being the only single guy working in the tower, Tyler was the target of many attempts to be “fixed up” with lovely ladies. “I was their entertainment,” he laughs about his co-workers.

On that day, while Rachel mastered the Arrow, every time she radioed the tower, they teased Tyler, “She’s flirting with you, you know.” 

But Rachel protests the allegation with a great sense of humor. “Honestly, I was trying to get a clearance to land! I wasn’t even thinking about guys!”

Mike: However, they needled Tyler, urging him to invite her up for a tour. “I told them no, that was too forward,” he explains. That’s when good ol’ Dave took matters into his own hands, determined to help a buddy out. 

As Rachel taxied back to the ramp, Dave pressed the mic button and invited her up. In most circumstances, a controller giving a pilot the phone number to call the tower is an indication that the pilot has done something wrong. But in this case, giving her the number would enable her to call to get through the security gate. 

After parking the plane, she drove over to the tower and called. It was Tyler who picked up the phone and graciously let her in. 

“They gave me a tour, and everyone was professional and courteous,” Rachel says. “I thanked Tyler for his service to our country, and I thanked all the controllers for showing me the inside of the tower.”

That would have been all there was, but after the tour, Rachel hopped in the fuel truck with her friend Brittany, whose job was to drive it and fuel airplanes. Through the airport’s private frequency, the guys invited them back after quitting time to play basketball at the base of tower. 

Whether Rachel offered her phone number or Tyler asked for it depends on who you ask. But they ended up on a date that night. “We went to Universal Studios,” she says, “and our date lasted twelve hours. I never laughed so much for so long, and that’s what won me over about him.”

Today, Rachel is a first officer with a regional airline, Tyler is keeping flights in order from Houston’s approach control facilities, and there is a beautiful wedding on the horizon. 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

December 15, 2020 Astronomical Corned Beef

The Liberty Gazette
December 15, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: When astronaut Wally Schirra walked into Wolfie’s Restaurant and Sandwich Shop in Cocoa Beach, Florida and bought an extra corned beef on rye, he probably never thought it would be famous. Or infamous. Or that a replica would be made for a museum. After all, it was just a practical joke. He saved the savory meal for two days and then handed it to fellow spaceman John Young just in time for Young’s first launch later that day. 

That was March 23, 1965, when Young, his smuggled sandwich hidden in his spacesuit, blasted off aboard Gemini 3 with his Command Pilot, Gus Grissom. Once they reached cruise altitude, which is way up there, Young pulled out the sandwich. The conversation went like this: 

Astronaut John Young
Grissom: “What is it?”
Young: “Corn beef sandwich.”
Grissom: “Where did that come from?”
Young: “I brought it with me. Let’s see how it tastes. Smells, doesn’t it?”
Grissom: “Yes, it’s breaking up. I’m going to stick it in my pocket.”
Young: “Is it?”
Young: “It was a thought, anyways.”
Grissom: “Yep.”
Young: “Not a very good one.”
Grissom: “Pretty good, though, if it would just hold together.”
Young: “Want some chicken leg?”

Unfortunately for the crew, the audio recording of that exchange eventually made its way to Congress, where critters live, and a couple of them nearly blew their head gaskets because they had arranged for the astronauts to test certain foods. It seems there was some heated speech about wasting taxpayer money because the critters assumed after hearing that recording that the two astronauts ate none of the compact and “safe” food assigned to them for testing. 

There’s a valid point that great care must be taken when considering food in a space capsule in zero gravity. You wouldn’t want crumbs getting into the equipment or instruments, and there could be some concern about tiny floating particles being inhaled. Sandwiches aren’t the best candidate for a launched lunch. But the space travelers didn’t actually skip their duty to reconstitute dehydrated test food with a water gun. I’m sure that was loads of fun. 

You know how things can go when politicians see a chance for media attention. The encapsulated incident was blown out of proportion when the House Appropriations Committee met to discuss the threat of “costing the country millions of dollars,” and one member whined that it was “disgusting.” Okay, two-day-old corned beef, I might agree. But I don’t think I’d have gone to such extremes. I suppose NASA admins felt political pressure to make Young the first space crew member to receive a reprimand. 

The rest of the story is better, though. John Young turned out to be NASA’s longest-serving astronaut, logging 865 hours in space and a walk on the Moon. And Commander Grissom wasn’t mad. For him, the great sandwich caper was the highlight of the flight. So great, in fact, that at the Grissom Memorial Museum in Mitchell, Indiana, you’ll find a replica of the sandwich preserved and encased.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com  
Replica of the famous corned beef sandwich




December 8, 2020 Hangar Time

The Liberty Gazette
December 8, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Here we are, that time of year again when the Elyminator must go to Dr. Mechanic for an annual check-up. It’s not that different from a human one, really. Our mechanic happens to be male, but not all are. He will check the “heart,” being the compression in the cylinders, like a blood pressure check. He’ll check all the “internal organs,” too, and even the hind-end, although probably not to the extent of a colonoscopy, thank goodness.

This is also the time of year when ceilings often are low, as cold fronts move in, and we wait on the ground for low visibility or high winds, or both, to pass on. Just before the weather hit over Thanksgiving, we landed the Elyminator at the Pearland Regional Airport and handed the keys over to the doc. He and his assistants remove the cowling to unveil the engine and poke around at all the vital parts. Sometimes things like o-rings and other seals need to be replaced. Sometimes there are surprises, like when you take your car to the dealer for scheduled maintenance and they find another problem to address. Except this airplane stuff isn’t like the reputation the auto repair or dealership businesses have. Generally, most aircraft mechanics are straight-up honest and are happy to let their customers work alongside them. This allows the customer to learn more about his or her airplane, and it also reduces the bill. We’ve been fortunate to have the best mechanics around. 

Linda: Meanwhile, here we are with an empty hangar. No time like this for cleaning and reorganizing. We went to work pulling cartons of things from the east wall. Out came the brooms, buckets, sponges, and mops. I especially like operating the five-horsepower shop vac, so the floor is once again clean enough to eat off. After picking up a couple of gallons of paint for the walls, we trapsed to a hardware store and put in the order for industrial shelving. Once delivered, all those items went into new bins, and viola! Organization began! Tools back there where the long workbench is. Cleaning supplies over here. Aviation reading material and DVDs in that spot. Extra parts in the west wing.  

Then, once we have the airplane back, we’ll anxiously await enjoyable winter flying weather, although, governments’ ridiculous reactions to this global flu virus ruined our travel plans this year (not to mention devastating businesses and economies). From our springtime trip to Rome and Sicily via airline, to a summer flight to Alaska in our own plane, to igloo camping in Northern Finland, every trip we scheduled has been displaced. But in a couple of weeks we will be able to claim victory in this hangar overhaul project, and the Elyminator will be sitting pretty—when it isn’t zooming us off somewhere. Someday, we hope the world will find its right mind again. Meanwhile, our fly-and-bike trips have given us fantastic new adventures, and we’ll keep finding ways to deal with irrationalities until the world gets a grip. 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

December 1, 2020 Let's Go There

The Liberty Gazette
December 1, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Sometimes flying isn’t about seeing the most celebrated sight or the excitement in planning for specific experiences. Sometimes it’s best when we’re open to unknown adventure that lies ahead and in finding joy in simple things–just getting away from everyday life. 

We’ve especially looked forward to weekends this past month as breaks in Mike’s grueling work schedule. It seems we’ve developed a kind of mantra: In the air, doesn’t matter where, let’s go there. With that in mind, we’ve been keeping the bikes in the back of the airplane so that wherever we end up, we can extend the feeling of freedom cycling around, exploring a new town. Such was the case when we picked Texarkana. 

Mike: Wisps of clouds dotting the sky seemed to sweep by, and multiple shades of green landscape slipped under our wings as the Elyminator mightily trekked northward. The airwaves filled with the chatter of pilots announcing their position in the traffic patterns of many airports that share the same frequency. One pilot was taking off from Livingston’s airport while another was landing at Palestine. Each moment was a breath of fresh air that distanced me from the weariness of intensely focused work. 

Linda: Texarkana’s airport is conveniently close to town, on the Arkansas side. The friendly staff at TAC Air filled our tanks and offered to help us unload, but we’ve got this routine down pat. 

As Nick finished fueling the plane, I asked him about parks. What was the closest? Which was the best? While Spring Lake Park received a unanimous vote for best park, echoed by Michael and Kristina at the front desk, the Ed Worrell Memorial Park would be much closer, only about a ten-minute ride. We opted for the latter, only because of shortened daylight time. 


Mike: Some cities lack bike lanes or wide shoulders, so we study the routes from airport to town as part of our preflight exercises. Texarkana has a few busy streets, but after passing the best campaign sign ever (“Jesus–2020”), it didn’t take long to get to Worrell Memorial Park, which has a paved bike trail. It isn’t the most picturesque area, but the park served the purpose, and there were a couple lovely stretches. The autumn colors were mostly shades of brown. Piles of leaves surrounded bare trees, but the grass was green, and there were some pine trees, too. 

The trail followed a drainage ditch that meandered between neighborhoods. As we sat to eat, we laughed at the thought of traveling two hundred and twenty miles to sit on a rickety old wood bench with no table–because the park’s two picnic tables were already taken. But the munchies we brought still tasted great, we like each other’s company, and the journey itself is what draws us. 

Why fly two hours in the shortest daylight season of the year, just to bike for half an hour, find a picnic spot, and bike back for another two-hour flight? Adventure! Freedom, we say!

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

November 24, 2020 To The Stars

The Liberty Gazette
November 24, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: The young Indian girl, Mary Ross, was good at math. Really good. In the early part of the 20th century. Before calculators. Born of smart stock, her great-grandfather the longest serving Cherokee Chief ever, Mary was never given a list of things “girls can’t do.” Instead, she was sent to school. Teaching other Indian children math and science was one way she spread her encouragement and determination.

She became the first Native American female engineer, and in 1942, the first female engineer in the history of the Lockheed Corporation. I don’t think they had to fill any predetermined minority headcounts back then. She was the star they needed. Not just any engineer. An aerospace engineer, one of the 40 founding engineers hired to work at the renowned and highly secretive Skunk Works. 

A few years after helping design the P-38 “Lightning” jet fighter, she designed rockets and created concepts for interplanetary space travel. Decades ago, she was figuring out how to make Earth-orbiting flights in a variety of vehicles for crew and satellites. Imagine the work it took to get a rocket outside the Earth’s atmosphere. Her contributions benefit both the defense and civilian space industries and laid the groundwork for missions that haven’t happened yet.

And so how fitting when last year she was featured on the Sacagawea gold dollar. Since much of her work is still classified, the team designing the coin chose one of the known equations she would have used. To figure the velocity needed to break free from the Earth’s atmosphere and beyond, she had to calculate the requirements for that distance of interplanetary space travel, determine plane orbit and transfer orbit energy. The formula on the coin is this: 

V2∞ = V2- 2μ / r where V is the speed of an orbiting body.
V∞ is the orbit velocity when the orbit distance tends to infinity.
μ = GM, the standard gravitational parameter of the primary body with mass M.
r is the distance of the orbiting body center. 

Got it? That’s a simple one.

Also on the coin is an image of an astronaut closely resembling American Indian (Chickasaw) astronaut John Herrington. We happened to meet him in Houston in September last year when he joined the Apollo Chamber Orchestra for a night of fantastic space-themed storytelling and music. We had a blast talking airplanes with him after the concert. And to think that so much of his story unfolded because of the work of Mary Golda Ross. It’s satisfying to know she lived to almost 100 and got to see some of the fruits of her labors.

Mary never had a desire to go into space herself. She loved conquering the challenges of figuring out how to get it done. She did, however, believe that women would make wonderful astronauts. She’d just stay down here and analyze all the data.

Was she “one of the guys”? No. She was “one of the engineers.” A darn good one. A stellar one.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

November 17, 2020 Wintersmith Park

The Liberty Gazette
November 17, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Saturday morning the weather looked promising for the day, short as they are this time of year. A return trip to Mustang Beach with our bikes was a contender, but not the one that won this time. We skimmed the aeronautical map to find airports depicted very close to their host cities, and no more than three hours flight time to get to. Pauls Valley and Ada, Oklahoma competed with Mustang Beach for airport-to-city proximity. Ada won the coin toss, so we loaded up our picnic lunches and bikes and departed to the northwest with a tailwind and clear skies at 6,500’. 

The FBO at the Ada Municipal Airport is Heartland Aviation. There’s a young line boy there who will drive the fuel truck over if you call. I think he lives in an RV there on the airport. We were second in line for fuel (we like to fuel when we arrive, rather than wait until it’s time to depart), so while we waited, we re-assembled our bikes for the ride into town. Usually, all that means is putting the wheels on and connecting the brakes. But we had bought new, more cushy seats. Mike’s had gone on last week with no problem, but we needed a different tool for mine. Final action before hopping on and riding off: attach and adjust my new seat. 

One would think that shouldn’t be such a problem. However, as Mike adjusted the bracket, it cracked in two, leaving me seat-less. No worries, they have a courtesy car. A nice Ford Expedition. And the tank was full. We threw the bikes back in the Elyminator and our backpacks in the Expedition, and off we went to Wintersmith Park. And what a beautiful setting it is!

Mike: We stopped first at a picnic table and unpacked our vegan lunch as we surveyed the scene spread out before us. Brilliant fall colors set in stark contrast to the cool blue waters of the small lake and its grassy green banks. Above, a bright blue cloudless sky, and around us, a cool breeze. T-shirt weather without sweating.

A path meanders around the lake, and we sauntered along it, eking the most out of our getaway, crossing bridges that traversed fingers of the lake and one that spanned the brief dam. The rolling hills around the city park added depth and texture, and crunchy-looking leaves flittered across our path. And then there were the ducks and geese, dense flocks of them frolicking. The moments here so lovely, they gave us a brief respite from worldly concerns. 

 






On the way home, we’d cross back over the Red River, with a headwind to slow us, and the sun setting behind us. It would be dark by the time we landed. But an airport beacon and runway lights helped us find the spot where the music of our wheels chirped as we touched down at our home airport.

Autumn offers great flying weather, and we should have Linda’s bike seat ready for adventure next weekend.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

November 10, 2020 Local Sky Touring

The Liberty Gazette
November 10, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: With a beautiful weekend, we had plenty of choices where we could go, what we could do. We could fly somewhere we haven’t been yet with the bikes. We could practice approaches (legal requirements to maintain instrument currency require a minimum of six approaches every six months, plus holding, intercepting, and tracking). Or, we could go sight-seeing. That was the winning decision a couple of Saturdays ago when it was Mike’s turn in the left seat. “Let’s just fly around,” he said (some call it, ‘JFA’). “I think I’ll give you an air tour.” Sounded good to me. No pressure to be anywhere, just up in the sky, looking around with a different perspective.

Mike: I had just finished a mind-numbing and intense two-week, six-day-a-week work schedule. I needed to relax, and the Elyminator beckoned. I wanted to soar above the countryside and enjoy whatever scenes floated into view, my eyes like a camera lens, my mind storing the film I can replay whenever I want. 

Linda: We stayed local, no more than 60 miles around. Over Liberty, we peered down on the high school, with a great view of the baseball diamond, the track, and the tennis courts. Over Dayton, one of the most obvious eye-catchers is the ginormous train parking area.

The construction of 99 in progress was also an attraction worthy of our examination. Lots of it is carved out in the dirt, some bridges already poured, and you can easily see its footprint from the air. 


Mike: Lazily flying along the shore, we were spotting and telling tales of historical landmarks along the ship channels and intercoastal waterway. I made a couple slow turns over Fort Travis Park, checking out the circular foundations where the gun turrets were mounted, and the bunkers. A great place for a picnic. Viewing historical places from aloft adds depth to stories—like having a living, breathing map laid out in front of us. 

Linda: Probably one of my favorite sights on Mike’s tour was the Navy’s WWII blimp facility south of Hitchcock. Brought back memories growing up in Indianapolis where every May, the Goodyear blimp would arrive and hover over the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, which was near our house. Because the blimp would appear before opening day, it was always a beautiful sign of the fun days to come. There’s nothing like Indy in May. And flying a blimp would be cool. So would sailing. Believe it or not, I have never been sailing. 

Here and there, lovely sails dotted Galveston Bay, seemingly gently meandering, although I know there is work involved. Others gathered in tight groups, clearly students of a sailing school. I suppose if I’m drawn to flying something as slow as a blimp, maybe I would enjoy sailing, too. That’s actually a new thought for me, the one from Indy who loves high speed. 
Mike: This is kind of a gypsy trip in microcosm, going no place, with no need to get there fast, just enjoying the ride.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

November 3, 2020 Birthday Trips, Part 2

The Liberty Gazette
November 3, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Picking up where I left off last week, our birthday trip, a fly-bike jaunt to Lafayette, Louisiana, there were some clouds along the route, so we filed an IFR flight plan. This requires we talk with air traffic controllers, as opposed to flying VFR, where it can be optional.

Anyway, this story is about what it’s like when you come across someone who really stands out. As we scooted east, the first controller handed us off with a frequency change to the one handling the next patch of airspace. It was that moment when I heard the most vivacious, friendly, welcoming voice I have ever heard on the radio. So upbeat, charming, and engaging. And all she did was say the usual things a controller says to a pilot. But after I answered, which gave away that I’m a female pilot, she gave the “secret” handshake we have, we women in aviation. “…And happy Saturday!” 

When I got home, I asked around, who was working that sector that day? My description elicited only one possibility—Anna Mitchell. I had to know more about this lady who outshines the rest. 

Anna takes her job seriously and loves what she does. She’s been doing it 32 years, since graduating with a degree in biology.

“Communications can seem like the hardest part of flying,” she says. “Some pilots are terrified of talking to controllers, afraid they might say something wrong. I want to do everything I can to put them at ease.”

She grew up around airplanes. Getting in one was as normal as getting in a car. Her father had flown B-52s and flew several small airplanes, in which Anna often rode along. She and I have that in common; I call it “Daddy’s little shadow.” Her father and mine had something in common, too. He always told her, “There’s nothing you can’t do that a man can. Do what you want and do it well.” 

Anna’s first job directing pilots was in the tower at a small airport in Columbia, Missouri. Not everyone starts like that, and Anna values that experience because it allowed her to see things, such as the effect of wake turbulence on small aircraft. “I saw a Cessna 172 following a C130, and flip in the air from its wake turbulence. I know how important my warnings are!”

While some may think of her as a nameless, faceless voice, she can never forget how critical her job is. “There may be hundreds of people on an airliner, and what I say to their pilots matters.” 

For some, her voice has been the one that comforted them when they lost their way and became disoriented late at night. “You know, doctors make a difference. Researchers who fight cancer make a difference. I wanted to make a difference, too. When I get off work and head home from Houston Intercontinental, and I look up and see the lines of airliners funneling in from the east, I think to myself, I did that! It’s so satisfying to see it in action, knowing people are coming home safely.”

And happy. Thank you, Anna.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

October 27, 2020 Birthday Trips

The Liberty Gazette
October 27, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Happy birthday to us! We have so much in common, even our birthdays are one right after the other. Since we celebrated early with fly-hike-bike trips, venturing west a few times, we figured it was time to point the nose east. 

With the back seats folded down in the Elyminator, we have plenty of room to stack two bike frames, topped by four wheels, with flight bag and backpacks filling the nooks and crannies. Since it’s just us, and the bikes don’t weigh much, we can take on full fuel, which gives us over five hours before we’d use it all up. That’s longer than our sitters can sit anyway. 

The flight to Lafayette, Louisiana in our Grumman Cheetah is slightly over an hour, above the I-10 traffic all the way. I often wonder if the people down there in their cars scowl at us for the sign across the bottom of our plane: “STUCK IN TRAFFIC?” 

Speaking of slower vehicles, we got a chuckle out of the Citation jet that Lafayette’s tower controller sequenced to land ahead of us. Maybe they were on a maintenance flight, as the controller directed me to fly an extended downwind leg while this jet took so long to reach the airport on final. When I finally turned final, the controller gave the obligatory, “Caution: wake turbulence,” and followed up by advising me that the Citation was only traveling at 100 knots. Laughter burst forth from my co-pilot, who blurted, “Can you imagine what that Citation pilot is thinking right now? Thanks for broadcasting my slower-than-a-single-engine-piston-aircraft-speed.” 

Yes, we throttled back for a jet. That’s a first. 

On the ramp, we quickly snapped the wheels on our bikes and pedaled toward historic downtown Lafayette. We considered patronizing a restaurant, but we had brought a picnic lunch, so we rolled on, enjoying the sights through downtown, and ending up on the University of Louisiana Lafayette campus. Girard Park was the perfect place to find a picnic table in the shade and be entertained by frisbee throwers, children, and dogs. 

After swallowing the last morsels, I texted our dear friends who had recently moved to Lafayette from Houston so they could be close to grandchildren when the husband retired from his dental practice. His wife, Rebecca, is a fellow author and has written several excellent children’s books. “The Dry” is one of them. 

They’d weathered Hurricanes Laura and Delta much better than the poor folks in Lake Charles. From the air, Lake Charles is a quilt of blue squares. But our friends didn’t have any damage, and Rebecca picked us up at Girard Park and took us to their new home for coffee and conversation. She has built an enviable hanging fence garden, and they have a puppy named George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart’s character in “It’s a Wonderful Life”). But I’ve run out of space, so I’ll finish this story next week. Till then, blue skies.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

October 20, 2020 Airport to Alamo...bike style

The Liberty Gazette
October 20, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Last week, Mike wrote about flying and hiking and our steps from historic Stinson Municipal Airport along the Mission Reach trail system. A few days later, we flew back to Stinson with our bikes. We had a lovely time cloud-busting and were welcomed back by one of the friendly line guys with Stinson’s Gate One FBO, who chocked the Elyminator while we tied down the wings. 

After ordering fuel and unloading, we rolled through the beautiful 1930’s terminal, crossed Mission Road, and we were on our way to a glorious ride. Well, at least for a couple of miles, until Mike’s bike broke. 

Mike: At first, I thought I was doing something wrong in shifting, because the gears seemed to be off. I could only shift in a couple of gears. I tried to locate the source of the problem, but realizing we were wasting precious time and getting nowhere, we chose to call it a day and hobbled the old Mongoose back. 

Linda: The timing worked out okay, though, as we drilled more holes in the sky on the return and arrived home a smidgen early for a web conference I was attending. 

While we weren’t super happy about not flying the next day, we took the day to shop for a new bike for Mike and to vote early. The bike shop was running about a week behind on repairs, so if we wanted to ride, he’d need a new bike. Back to the hangar to unload the old ‘Goose and replace it with his spiffy new wheels. The next day’s forecast looked pretty good. Not the early morning forecast, which was fog-laden, but certainly we could be wheels up by 8:30 or 9. With nothing planned to rush back for, we could spend the whole day cycling around San Antonio. 

The picnic lunches and water bottles in our backpacks added a little weight, but it wasn’t too bad. It’s just a little over ten miles along the Mission trails from Stinson airport to the Alamo, with the latter few miles being the bike lanes of South Alamo Street. Unfortunately, the place to secure our bikes wasn’t nearby, and the idea of “required” face masks while wandering the grounds around Alamo was a major turn-off. So, we said hello to Teddy Roosevelt on his horse, snapped a selfie in front of the Alamo, and meandered back. 

We peddled back down the generous bike lanes of South Alamo Street, through the Blue Star Arts Complex and numerous parks. We drank all the water, lightening the load, and enjoyed a picnic lunch in a shaded park along the San Antonio River. The light breeze helped cool us in the 91-degree sunshine. 

Roundtrip, we treaded 20.55 miles. Skies were clear leaving San Antonio, but by 7:30 in the evening, descending to our home airport, the fog would roll in soon. Next time, we’ll go east. We’ve discovered “ridewithgps.com” and some routes from Lafayette Regional Airport, which looks like a great fly-and-bike trip.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

October 13, 2020 Fly, Hike, Bike

The Liberty Gazette
October 13, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Flying and hiking, what a combination. But finding easy access to a trailhead near an airport is difficult. Often, when we land, ground transportation of some sort is needed to get to local attractions. When I read about the Stinson Loop Trail, a feeder trail to San Antonio’s Mission Reach walk along the San Antonio River, it beckoned me. 

For two consecutive day trips, the Elyminator whisked us across the state in about an hour and a half. We contended with storms moving into the area which caused a bumpy ride the first day. Gusty winds met us at Stinson Airport, but on the ground, that wind relieved some of the highly humidified hot air on the trail. The second day, the weather was better, and we scooted across the sky at higher and cooler altitudes. 

San Antonio Missions National Park became a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2015. The distance between all five frontier mission complexes is about eight miles along the San Antonio River Walk. The northern most mission is the Alamo, and at the south end is Mission Espada. Where the Stinson trail meets the main route is just north of Mission San Juan Capistrano, which we walked to the first day. The next day, we took the path north to Mission San Jose. 

We discovered that regardless of footwear, long walks on concrete takes a toll on the body. Pavement is best suited for bikes, which we plan for future trips. 

We were rewarded with picnicking in a spacious courtyard as a peaceful breeze rustled through the trees, watching the buffalo grass gently wave. Mission San Jose’s stately steeple rose into an azure background punctuated by pillow-like white and gray hued clouds. Stone arches cast shadows on limestone walls painted purple by flowering sage bushes.  

Along the banks of the San Antonio river, benches and picnic areas provide rest stops for contemplating while watching egrets and herons go through their daily routines. Boulders along the Stinson Loop trail did the same. They’re coated with a special sealant that I’m sure is meant to prevent graffiti artists from defacing them. 

Each mission is unique. Mission San Juan Capistrano is small in comparison to Mission San Jose. Many of the walls at San Juan have fallen. The chapel is basic with a flat façade that houses three bells. Inside, the sanctuary is narrow and minimally appointed. Mission San Jose boasts a visitor center with set hours. When we entered the front gate, we were met by a massive walled space occupied by a traditional church. The surrounding wall itself also provided structure for the former residences for the mission’s inhabitants. 

Only a few other folks milled about while we were there, so much of the time, we had the entire complex mostly to ourselves. After completing our three-hour trek, the Elyminator whisked us home. We spent approximately the same amount of time getting there and back as touring the missions and drinking in history. Airplanes are great for making day-hiking trips. 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

October 6, 2020 Autumn Flying

The Liberty Gazette
October 6, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: We’ve had several days of great flying weather. Inside the Elyminator is more comfortable when temperatures are not in the 90’s. In fact, the 50’s and 60’s are great. That’s a big reason why this is the time of year for the best fly-ins in this part of the country. While some have been cancelled (or might ask guests to plaster a cover over their faces), flying, and the camaraderie that comes with it, are still possible.

We recently installed some major upgrades to our instrument panel. These new devices open more opportunities for approaches our airplane wasn’t previously equipped to fly. Not that departure and enroute are unimportant, but it’s the approach to landing that can get sticky in weather. If the ceiling or visibility are too low, well, you’d better have equipment that will get you down to the runway safely, or plan to land somewhere else. 

The Elyminator used to have the old-fashioned instruments we call “steam gauge.” We had a portable GPS receiver, but not an installed one, and that makes all the difference in the world when it comes to what you can and cannot do, legally and safely. So not only did we bite the bullet for the latest model of one of the Garmin aviation navigation units, but we added several other instruments as well that give us important, legal-to-rely-on-in-weather information. That’s a game-changer. It means we’re not restricted nearly as much by the weather now.

However, even with fancy new gadgets, we stay away from big monsters like thunderstorms, hail, and high winds. 

We took advantage of a few days off work recently to fly some day trips to San Antonio’s Stinson Airport. That’s the second oldest (continually operated) airport in the U.S. The city of San Antonio has a tremendous trail system. The Mission Trails take you to all the missions. You can hike or bike around beautiful scenery. And after four years of hard work, the Stinson Trail opened last year to connect Stinson Airport with all those awesome trails. 

We packed a picnic lunch and after landing at Stinson, we walked out the historic terminal and crossed the street to Stinson Trail. Here begins the path to adventures. We made our first one to Mission San Juan Capistrano. It’s relatively small, some of it is ruins, but the walk is only about 3.5 miles. Great exercise! 

The next day, another picnic, this time at San Jose Mission, a much larger mission with more buildings intact. That day, we recorded a seven-mile hike. The bikes are coming out for the rest, since they are farther from the airport. 

We also discovered that San Antonio has kayak chutes. We’re keen on a trip to REI or somewhere for foldable kayaks to fit in the airplane. The real test will be – can we get both, bikes and kayaks, in the airplane? We’ll report back when we find out.

Meanwhile, look for Mike’s thoughts on the awesomeness of San Antonio’s trails next week.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

September 29, 2020 All-in, Always

The Liberty Gazette
September 29, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: The water laps at their boat as one fisherman dozes and the other reels in his line, then recasts. The rugged cliffs behind them disappear when a large silhouette descends into view. A Consolidated PBY Catalina is landing on the lake and it heads straight for them. When the flying boat touches the water’s surface, its hull splashes, and the fisherman turns to look. Startled, he shakes his buddy awake, pulls on the outboard motor’s starter rope with no success. The dudes end up diving overboard as the Catalina becomes airborne again and flies over them. Such is the humorous opening to Steven Spielberg’s 1989 movie Always

In the movie, the PBY, a WWII patrol bomber, was scooping up water to dump on a forest fire, a scene that has become all too common in the western U.S. these past summers. The lakes present a quick turnaround close to fires. This means more water-dumps in a shorter time. More water faster means a better fighting chance to put out the fire and save property and lives. 

The forest service began using repurposed WWII bombers for aerial firefighting in the 1940s. Later, they added military transports and some old prop airliners. Turbulent conditions over the fires causes fatigue, for both man and machine. Crews sit on reserve and wait like their ground-bound firemen counterparts. When they are not flying, they need to find ways to rest because when they get a call, they are all-in. 

I once got a tour of an old C-119 Boxcar, a Korean War era transport, at Hemet-Ryan Airport with my college flying teammates. Ten of us piled into the monstrous cockpit as the pilot told us what many of the switches did, like the red button on the control wheel that jettisoned the load. He got worried when one young lady sitting in the captain’s seat took too much interest in the button, she could not keep her fingers away from it. Had she pushed it, 3,000 gallons of iron-red slurry would have dumped on the ramp—instantly. 

When the old bombers and military transports began to wear out, the Lockheed C-130 Hercules and P-3 Orion submarine chaser got signed up. Some are still operating. With each new generation of aircraft came new tactics for fighting the blazes. Slurry bombers now carry even larger loads. They can turn on and off the flow, not just dump it. They can rain the retardant down over a long run. 

Today the slurry bombers include some of the largest transports in the world. A DC-10 was used to fight the fires we had here in Texas a few years ago. The biggest is a 747 that carries over 19,000 gallons of retardant. Watching that behemoth glide along only a couple hundred feet above a mountain ridge, a red trail streaming behind it, is both contrast and similarity in which this plane sneaks up on a fire the way the PBY did on the fishermen in the movie, Always

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

September 22, 2020 Repurposing

The Liberty Gazette
September 22, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: May I say, “Due to Covid19” we’re going to explore repurposing? Seems like the perfect time—nowhere to go, so we need things to do from home to keep us busy and productive. Expanding on the theme of a couple weeks ago, let’s take a look at some of the ways airplanes get repurposed. This just may give you an idea that will keep you occupied till the virus is gone.

We might as well start locally, too. Dr. Cody Abshier’s Twin Beech (with a colorful past), is being repurposed for “Tool School,” which is starting up soon. When he isn’t taking it for a spin around the block, it’s been tucked away, awaiting curious kids’ hands and minds to make it into something fun, like a fort. 

Maybe when one of those kids grows up, he or she will take what they learned in Tool School and snag a great deal on a retired airliner and turn it into a house. Or a hotel. Or a restaurant. Or a car. Or a camper. Or a boat. Or maybe an artist will get ahold of a sadly grounded plane and let it find new wings as a sculpture. All these things are possible.

The Vickers VC-10 was the last of the British-built jets. A Brit named Steve Jones, whose friends own a scrapyard, bought just one engine nacelle (that round, bullet-looking piece that hangs off the wing, or elsewhere on the plane and houses an engine) and converted it into a camper. 

In Suwon, South Korea, the second Boeing 747 ever made, but the first to be flown commercially, was converted to a restaurant. Unfortunately, the business didn’t survive long, but the same idea has worked out great in Taupo, New Zealand. 

A McDonald's restaurant there started out life as a fully functional C-47 (the military version of the Douglas DC-3, my favorite airplane). It was born in January 1943 and saw action in the Pacific theater during WWII. Life after the war brought it to Australia, where it hauled passengers for an airline for several years, then went to work for the Post Office. Coming out of a 24-year retirement in 2014, it can now fit up to 20 diners at 10 tables in the modified fuselage.

Probably one of the most famous aircraft morphological occurrences was a yacht, the conversion completed circa 1974. The 1939 Boeing 307 Stratoliner, one of only ten built, was first owned by Howard Hughes (who may or may not be buried in Houston) for his airline, TWA. The airplane changed hands a few times and was abandoned and sold at auction in 1969. Ken London’s winning bid of $62 left him enough change to chop off the wings and turn it into the luxurious floating “Cosmic Muffin.”
Cosmic Muffin

There are many more examples of creative thinking—and doing—which have given old airplane carcasses new life. So if you’re looking for a unique project, look no farther than your nearest aircraft boneyard.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

September 8, 2020 Changing Boxes

The Liberty Gazette
September 8, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: A week ago, I said goodbye to a piece of me. For over 12 years I have been teaching pilots to fly the Hawker 800XP, a twin-engine corporate jet. I teach in a simulator and a classroom, and I fly the jet for clients when they need a fill-in pilot. 

After 34 years, FlightSafety retired the Hawker simulator in its Houston Learning Center. As an instructor for FlightSafety, I have taught thousands of hours in this “box.” As an FAA authorized evaluator, I conducted between 300 and 400 tests and checks in it. I have taught in other jets but never so much time in one simulator. 

Fittingly, the last training event I performed was for Larry, a long-time customer who is celebrating 50 years of training with our company. The company’s other pilot with whom he has spent more than 25 years flying, was one of the original trainees in this very simulator back in 1986. Their training was to span four days, after which, the simulator would be dismantled. But Hurricane Laura’s impending arrival changed that. With a hard tear-down date of August 31st, the training schedule was reworked to do all simulator training in two days. The technicians were shutting down everything in hurricane preparation as the last simulator session ended.

With all that, we completed both pilots’ training with enough time left over to let them fly the approach that every pilot loves: the River Visual to Runway 19 at Ronald Reagan International in Washington, D.C. Because of restrictions around the nation’s capital since 9/11, doing this in a simulator is the closest many pilots will ever come to landing there. 

After the storm passed, I came back on Friday to fly the simulator myself one last time. I received an instrument proficiency check by my boss with another instructor as co-pilot. The yoke felt so natural nestled in my hands, and the aircraft responded as if part of me.

The check portion completed, we flew along and reminisced about people and events. Like the time the simulator collapsed while I was doing my required annual observation with an FAA inspector. When it is operating normally, it stands about ten feet tall on six stilts that push and pull the main housing,

making it feel like it’s climbing and turning. When the hydraulic system fails, the fluid generally bleeds off slowly and the simulator settles to the floor. But that time the two aft actuators lost all their fluid immediately, and the simulator crashed backwards, ending with all of us inside looking up at the ceiling—like sitting in a rocket on a launch pad. I crawled out the door at the back and stepped onto the floor. The others climbed out after me. Such memories.

I spent the last few minutes of the simulator’s last day snaking through the mountains of Colorado one more time. The technicians paced, antsy to start disassembly. Someone said I hijacked the sim. But fortunately, no one could shoot out the tires. Tomorrow, a new day, a new box.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

September 1, 2020 The People of Liberty versus Hurricanes

The Liberty Gazette 
September 1, 2020 
Ely Air Lines 
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Three years ago, our plans for Italy, Slovenia, and Croatia were thwarted by Hurricane Harvey’s invasion. Because we write this column the week before you read it here, we're writing as we prepare for Hurricane Laura and thinking of the great things that happened here three years ago.

Ten days of Vacation Croatia turned into four days of Vacation Rodeway Inn, Humble. Trapped on our way to the airport shortly before it closed, thinking we’d get out in the nick of time, there was no place to go but the next hotel parking lot. We had nothing to complain about. While so many lost so much in the floods, our house was untouched. That fact was due to the superheroes who saved Liberty from becoming part of an enlarged Trinity River bottom. 

Breaking from the world of aviation, we will always be thankful for those who spent days saving the levy around Travis Park, and ultimately the city. 

These are the people to whom we are grateful that we had a house to come home to when we could finally escape Humble:

Water Control and Improvement District (WCID) #5 members, James Poitevent, Skeet Raggio, and James Leonard. James Poitevent was at the levy from Sunday morning on through the week. He oversaw the entire operation like Mel Gibson in the middle of the firefight in “We Were Soldiers.” With his contacts in construction and the oilfield, he raised up a mighty army to face down Harvey’s attack. 

The other two WCID members, Walt Patterson and Victor Lemelle, held the fort in Ames, watching over ditches affecting Ames and the Liberty Municipal Airport.

Alton Fregia of Daisetta brought five tractors and numerous men who worked twelve-hour shifts. They made a formidable team.

We were in trouble, folks. Serious trouble. Had it not been for the community coming together, bringing equipment and manpower, most of the city would likely have been under water.

Arnold Smart, of Smart Oilfield Service, brought pumps, as did Curtis Hudnall of Curtis & Son Vacuum Service. Dwight Lumpkins, of Clay Mound Sporting Center, brought two pumps. Dwayne Johnson, of Johnson’s Trucking brought a track hoe and himself. John Hebert, lifetime superhero, supplied fuel for all these vehicles.

Oscar Cooper, of Cooper Electric, was there from Sunday morning on, trying to keep an ailing pump running, one of two owned by the city and the WCID.

David Chandler, of Oilfield Welding and Fabrication in Daisetta, brought his expertise and equipment, and we’d have been bad off if he hadn’t. David used a plasma cutter to cut steel plating to cover a grated hole so the water wouldn’t blow up through a drain.

Tim Killion, of Texas Armory, flew drone reconnaissance for an aerial view of water levels.
Gary Broz was the City Manager and Tom Warner was the City Engineer. They were just as dedicated to the safety of Liberty and stayed on the scene during the critical time.

Surely there were others unnamed, but no less heroic. Thanks are inadequate for what our neighbors have done to save our city. 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

August 25, 2020 Humble Lemons

The Liberty Gazette
August 25, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Jeff Bloch, a/k/a Speedycop, is a Washington, D.C. police officer who, along with his wife, Jaime, and their “Gang of Outlaws,” have built 30 crazy race cars. Early in 2012, Jeff was at Hyde Field, now called Washington Executive Airport, when he noticed what appeared to be an abandoned 1956 Cessna 310. It had been robbed of its engines, fuel tanks, tail section, and “basically, everything it needed to fly,” says Jeff in his YouTube video. His plans for the airplane carcass? Direct to: 24 Hours of Lemons, or, the “Lemons Rally.” It’s supposed to be the polar opposite of the famous 24 Hours of Le Mans race, which attracts expensive cars. “Lemons,” is “an irreverent endurance racing series for $500 cars,” says an article by the group, 24hoursoflemons.com

The purpose of the rally is for owners of really ugly or unappreciated cars to take them on road trips and show them off. Just for fun. They report some interesting happenings, such as a 1962 Chevy Impala that had to undergo a heart transplant during the race (an engine change). In a parking lot. And they still won. Once even a 1989 Yugo won. Having been in Bulgaria and the former Yugoslavia, we have heard every Yugo joke there is. 

Long story shortened for space here, the airplane had suffered a wheels-up landing in 1965 which the NTSB reported as resulting in major damage, but it was repaired and flew again, up until 1973, when it made its final flight home to Hyde Field. It had been a good workhorse all its life and was due a fun retirement. Under Jeff’s direction, both the airplane and a Toyota Van Wagon (the donor vehicle) underwent some pretty complex procedures to remove, add, and merge body parts. And voila! A car!

The Cessna-Toyota was even street legal, and Jeff drove it to Atlantic City, New Jersey, where he shocked more than a few gamblers. It was so much fun, he did it again. After the 310, he converted a boat, a camping trailer, and a Bell OH-58 amphibious helicopter into road racers. The amphib helo had paid its dues in Vietnam, and later by a U.S. drug task force. It, too, was street legal, making it a rare vehicle to have navigated in the air, on land, and at sea.
Photo courtesy caranddriver.com

Racing is still going on, despite Covid, with “Lemons Rallies” September 12-13 in Kershaw, South Carolina and Deer Trail, Colorado.

For a good laugh, I recommend their videos, which you’ll find on their website, along with information on how to register your own $500 car in a race (it doesn’t have to have been an airplane). If you’d like to see Jeff’s video on transforming a Cessna into a Lemon, search on YouTube for “Spirit of Lemons – Donor Van.” Or visit his Facebook page, full of photos and stories, including the “TrippyTippyHippyVan,” a gutted Volkswagon Van which he tipped on its side and then married it to an old VW Rabbit.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

August 18, 2020 Little Stinker

The Liberty Gazette
August 18, 2020

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

The child knew at an early age that flying would be the thing. By age eight, this child had the parents convinced, and the house was soon filled with books on aviation. The bug caught on and the whole family took flying lessons. And the little stinker soloed an airplane for the first time at age 12. A natural pilot. The first legal solo came on the child’s 16th birthday, because that’s what the FAA says is the minimum age. There was no turning back, but there were roadblocks, because the child was a girl, and girls weren’t supposed to fly.

But she grew up to be National Aviation Hall of Famer Betty Skelton Frankman, known as “The First Lady of Firsts.” Before she passed in 2011 at the age of 85, Betty had grown from the small girl who hopped rides in Stearmans at the local airport to qualifying to join the Women Airforce Service Pilots at age 17. Unfortunately, the youngest age allowed in the WASP was eighteen and a half, and the organization disbanded before she reached that age. So, Betty went on to earn her commercial pilot certificate at age 18, and then became a flight instructor and added multi-engine ratings. Nothing stopping this woman! 

No doubt the limiting mindset of the day was a great frustration. But she never gave up. One day, her dad was planning an airshow as a fundraiser for their local Jaycees. Betty volunteered to learn aerobatics and be the show’s star performer. She learned loops and rolls in a Fairchild PT-19 and two weeks later borrowed the plane for the show.

She’d found her niche, and no one could tell her no, unlike the airlines and military. In 1946, she bought an aerobatic airplane to start her career in airshows and competition aerobatics, a Great Lakes biplane. In it, she gained her first title as International Feminine Aerobatic Champion in 1948. 

Then she discovered the sleek little Pitts. It took months of convincing to get the man-owner to sell it to her, but once she strapped that little single-seater on, she won herself two more championships, in 1949 and 1950. “Little Stinker” is now hanging upside-down from the ceiling of the Smithsonian’s Udvar-Hazy Center at Dulles Airport.

Betty was the first to do a propeller-ribbon-cutting—from 10’ above the ground. Inverted. She subsequently set several land speed records and drove in a NASCAR race. Although her gender prohibited her from becoming an astronaut, she underwent the same physical and psychological tests as the original Mercury seven, who adopted her as one of their own, calling her “Seven and a half.”

She still holds more combined aircraft and automotive records than anyone in history (17) and was inducted into the International Aerobatic Hall of Fame, the International Council of Air Shows Hall of Fame, and the Corvette Hall of Fame. Each year the United States National Aerobatic Championships honors the highest placing female pilot with the “Betty Skelton First Lady of Aerobatics” award. 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

August 11, 2020 Queen of the Skies

The Liberty Gazette
August 11, 2020 
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: The last Boeing 747 flying in passenger service has been parked in the Mojave Desert. Qantas airlines delivered it there last week after drawing a kangaroo-patterned radar track before departing Australia. The remaining 747s will continue flying only as freighters. 

The prototype of the 747 first left the ground in late 1968 and was introduced to the world by Pan American Airways in January 1970. It ushered in the wide-body jet age. The competition then was McDonnell Douglas’ DC-10 and Lockheed’s L-1011. Airbus Industries had not been formed yet. Today, as she heads into retirement, the 747 remains regal. All new aircraft designs look as if they were created on the same drawing board. They are sterile with no uniqueness. But the 747 remains instantly recognizable. 

Just watching the Queen gracefully lift into the air is a wonder, and I often playfully remarked it was just smoke and mirrors; something that big could never fly. 

The first time I saw her, I was in awe. It was night-time and the lights inside the terminal building glared off the windows. I pressed my nose against the glass and cupped my hands around the edges of my eyes to get a good look. A monstrous nose was all I could see. I was fourteen, and we were at Los Angeles International to send my older brother off on a six-week sojourn through Germany. That was before the days of metal detectors, body scanners, and stupid people blowing up airplanes and airports. Families could venture out to the gate with loved ones to see them off. For the ten-hour jaunt to Munich, my brother was flying on an old and ordinary Douglas DC-8. While we waited for his boarding call, I crept back to the only gates with enough room for such an enormous and grand plane. 

I knew someday I would fly on one, but for years it eluded me. One landed behind me at Palm Springs when I was a new pilot. Asked by the controller to expedite off the runway, I was surprised such a behemoth would be flying in there. Years later, I parked next to the UPS 747s at Ontario International Airport. The scent of pineapple would fill my nostrils as the cargo door was opened on a plane that had just arrived from Hawaii. 

My friends who fly them for Atlas Airways and Nippon Cargo adore them. Having been invited aboard several times, I’ve climbed the stairs, strolled the aisles, and shouted in the cavernous cargo compartment just to listen for an echo. But last September was when I finally got to fly on one. We took a British Airways 747 to London Heathrow on our way to Scotland, the experience now bittersweet. 

For 50 years, the Queen of the Skies delivered people to far-off lands who otherwise might not have had such an opportunity. She opened the skies making air travel more affordable. While serving the masses she did so with grace and majesty.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

August 4, 2020 Peacemaker by Choice

The Liberty Gazette
August 4, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

This is a story of family and heritage, of choices and convictions. It’s the story of Black Beaver, Christian name, Lawrence Hart.

Afraid of Beavers and Walking Woman were survivors of the massacre of the village of the great Peace Chief Black Kettle on the Washita River in Oklahoma in 1868. Three years later, their son, Peak Heart, was born. Although taken from their home and forced to live in Pennsylvania, Peak Heart (whose name was changed to John P. Hart) returned to Oklahoma and became a leader in the Cheyenne nation, and a Christian pastor. 

Chief Peak Heart married Cornstalk and through their son, Homer Hart, and his wife, Jennie, became grandparents to Black Beaver. 

Black Beaver was close to his grandfather, who taught him the Cheyenne ways. They spent many summers together, traveling, as Peak Hart was a peacemaker between tribes and missionary of the Native American Church.

Black Beaver enrolled at Bethel College, but he had always dreamed of flying. With the Navy’s aviation cadet program, he could become a jet fighter pilot when jets were new. Lt. Lawrence Hart achieved his dream as a U.S. Marine fighter pilot, but when his grandfather died, he was called out of the military to become a Peace Chief of the Cheyenne, and a Mennonite pastor.

For years, Black Beaver struggled with the pacifist beliefs of the Mennonite. But the untimely death of his college friend and missionary to Congo, with whom he had many discussions on the subject, made him realize he would rather die as a peacemaker.

What brought it all home for him was a re-enactment on the 100th anniversary of the Washita massacre in 1868 which his great-grandparents survived. The Cheyenne would participate on the condition that they could remove Cheyenne remains from the local museum and return them to the earth in traditional burial. Museum officials agreed, but no one told them the Grandsons of General Custer’s Seventh Cavalry was also participating. Thundering hooves and gunshots frightened unexpecting children. When Custer’s battle tune, “Garry Owen” was played, it stung the hearts of the unprepared Cheyenne.

When it was over, the tribe headed to the museum to claim the remains. There would be traditional ceremonial songs and dignity in the burials. Just as a small casket was brought forth, in came the Seventh Cavalry, encroaching on sacred ground. But they had come to salute, not to scare. 

By Cheyenne tradition, the blanket over the casket must be given to someone significant in attendance before burial. Someone like the governor, who was present. But the old chiefs instructed young Black Beaver, that is, Chief Lawrence Hart, to hand the blanket to the commander of the Custer Grandsons. I can imagine the lump in every throat during the exchange. The commander took the “Garry Owen” pin from his uniform and handed it to Chief Hart to accept for his people, promising the Cheyenne people they would never hear the battle song again.

While Black Beaver loved flying, he loved peacemaking more.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

July 28, 2020 Great Americans

The Liberty Gazette
July 28, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

This Saturday marks three years since the passing of a great American. A “trailblazer,” a “patriot,” and “a gift to the National Guard” were just a few of the sentiments shared by those who knew Lt. Gen. Daniel James III best. His legacy lives on, yet all who knew him would say that he would never hang his hat on the legacy he inherited. And it was a substantial one. No one could have faulted him if he had. But he didn’t. Daniel James III was his own man, they say—a command pilot and combat veteran, and later the adjutant general (TAG) for the Texas National Guard. He retired as the director of the Air National Guard, the top position there.

James was born in Tuskegee, Alabama in 1945 to Daniel “Chappie” James Jr., a fighter pilot who was the first black 4-star Air Force General. The elder General James flew 101 combat missions in Korea in P-51 Mustangs and F-80s, the first fighter jet. He also racked up 78 combat missions into North Vietnam from Thailand in F-4 Phantoms. Tuskegee certainly has its own stellar history in American aviation, where black military pilots trained.

Young James III knew early in life that the sky was calling him. After graduating from the University of Arizona, young James III logged 500 combat hours as a forward air controller and F-4 Phantom aircraft commander. He is further rightfully admired and honored for completing two active-duty tours in Southeast Asia and earning two Distinguished Flying Crosses.
Gen. Daniel James Jr. pinning a
Distinguished Flying Cross on son, Daniel James III.
Photo courtesy the National Guard, public domain.

While participating in air combat exercises at Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada in the mid-70s, Daniel James III met Air National Guard pilots. This opened a new world to him, seeing that airline pilots and fighter pilots flew together for the Guard. Having worn the Air Force flight suit for so many years, this seemed like a great idea. He could stay affiliated with the Air Force and don the flight suit another 38 years.

In 1995, he was selected to lead the Texas National Guard, becoming our state’s top officer. One of the many important things he is known for is his inclusiveness among the ranks in the Guard. He encouraged the various units to include more civilian and state employees in the Guard.

James III had made a name for himself and was recognized by President George W. Bush in 2002 when he nominated him as the 11th director of the Air National Guard. This was an interesting time to take over as the leader because this was when the Guard was transitioning from a strategic reserve to an operational force, post-9/11, including combat air support in Iraq and Afghanistan.

But it was Hurricane Katrina and her aftermath that the ANG proved its value to homeland security. Amid the mess and chaos, communications down, runways flooded and damaged, and air traffic control understaffed, the Air National Guard led the way in what Lt. Gen. Daniel James III called one of their proudest moments, helping fellow Americans.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

July 21, 2020 Flight 19

The Liberty Gazette
July 21, 2020
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: In the shadow of the air traffic control tower, in a park-like setting at Fort Lauderdale International Airport, stands a monument to the fourteen US Navy fliers of Flight 19. The concrete obelisk looks like a one-piece Stonehenge topped with a three-bladed propeller. Behind it, a ship’s mast where Old Glory is raised, the stars and stripes often flapping in the breeze.

The weather-worn plaque lists the servicemen of Flight 19 lost during a normal training mission four months after WWII ended. They had taken off from Naval Air Station Fort Lauderdale, now a public airport, on a December morning in 1945 in five TBM Avenger torpedo bombers. Their mission was supposed to be about ninety minutes long. They became disorientated, and their last radio transmissions were confusing and conveyed a sense of urgency. When they did not return, the Navy launched a search with thirteen men aboard a Martin PBM Mariner twin-engine seaplane. That too, disappeared.

These events, with unusual radio calls and no floating debris or any other sign of the lost, led to wild speculation. The mystery of Flight 19 created the myth of the Bermuda Triangle, a story that has been perpetuated by authors who embellish it more with each retelling. One thing is certain: unsolved mysteries sell a lot of books.

The three corners of the triangle are generally accepted as Bermuda, Miami and San Juan, Puerto Rico (but it depends on who is doing the speculating). However, not all the ships and airplanes reported lost in the “Bermuda Triangle” were between these points. Some disappeared off the coasts of California, Texas, and Ireland—but why let a little fact mess up a good story?

I’ve flown through the zone of obscurity hundreds of times, from Bermuda to Fort Lauderdale, and from Miami to San Juan. I’ve landed at dozens of Caribbean islands. Out there among the vast expanse of water merging with multiple-hued skies, colorful islands and froth-covered waves, I’ve only found unbelievable beauty and a strengthened belief in God’s incredible power.

When I flew far out at sea, well beyond sight of land, communications with air traffic control often required a high frequency (HF) radio. The very high frequency (VHF) radio we normally use to talk to controllers is limited to line-of-site, and the earth’s arc interferes with that line. By contrast, the HF radio beam bounces off the ionosphere and back down to get over the curve of the horizon. Today, satellites provide a more reliable link.

I cannot say what happened to the aircraft and men who disappeared on Flight 19, but prevailing logical theories say they ran out of fuel. Some say they ended up in south Georgia swamps, others, the Atlantic Ocean. I don’t think they fell off the face of the earth, as flat-earthers might say, or into a space void. I believe the Bermuda Triangle only exists is in the imagination. If anyone wants to claim otherwise, see if you can find me up there dispersing chemtrails.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com