October 15, 2013 Cheap Gas

The Liberty Gazette

October 15, 2013

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Not that we need an incentive to fly but once in a while some extra incentive helps us decide which direction we will fly. That incentive can be something as grand as the lush landscape of Idaho or as simple a pleasure as the yesteryears found at the 1950’s Southern Flyer Diner in Brenham, or perhaps, the price of fuel.

An experiment was planned for the month of October at the San Marcos Municipal Airport. Redbird Skyport, an FBO there, offered Avgas at the incredible low rate of 99.9 cents per gallon. The regular price had been $6.09 per gallon.

And so we packed up and headed to Ellington Field so we could fly to San Marcos for cheap gas. As we entered Ellington I began noticing one large grey tail after another sticking up above the hangars bordering the main ramps, between us and the runway. At first I thought there were four; then maybe five.

We stopped in at the FBO for some coffee and encountered a lot of people roaming around in camouflage clothing – crewmembers for the aircraft sitting on the ramp. I watched as one taxied toward the runway, its four big turboprop engines turning modern scimitar-shaped propeller blades and causing a muffled vibration on the soundproofed windows of the FBO. These are Lockheed C-130Js, the technically advanced version of the legendary Hercules. There is usually one, sometimes two here at different times during hurricane season. However, once I got a better look out on the ramp I counted twelve.

Twelve C-130s take up a lot of real estate.

The crews explained that they fled their base in Mississippi because it was in the projected path of Tropical Storm Karen. Moving to safer locations, more than half of the 20 based at Keesler AFB in Biloxi landed at Ellington.

Ten of the twelve we saw have "Hurricane Hunter" painted on the tail. They monitor tropical cyclones in the Atlantic, Gulf of Mexico and Pacific.

The other two monstrous airplanes are slightly longer C-130J-30’s known as tactical airlift aircraft. Emblazoned on their tail is the squadron’s trademark call sign, "Flying Jennies." Lumbering beasts that they are, they can operate from rough, unimproved runways cut out of jungles, and routinely perform air resupply drops in hostile territory. These are amazing airplanes, and twelve on the ramp at one time would catch anyone’s attention.

Linda: Off we soared, west, in pursuit of cheap gas. The experiment at Redbird Skyport was the result of a hunch that people would fly more if flying were less expensive. The founder and CEO of Redbird is Jerry Gregoire a, former executive with Dell Computers, and his efforts were supported by a great many large and small companies that lead the aviation industry. Having pumped about 90,000 gallons in the first nine days, 30 times more than anticipated, the planned month-long experiment was cut short. It will be interesting to see conclusions derived from the data collected in pilot surveys and how that will be used in the future.

I got to thinking, those C-130s burn about a thousand gallons per hour. If jet fuel was offered at the same deep discount I suspect they’d have relocated the big buckets of rivets to San Marcos instead of Ellington. And surely they’d have bought the souvenir t-shirt: "I came, I fueled, I flew. And fueled, and flew. And fueled and flew…"

www.ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

October 8, 2013 The Flying V

The Liberty Gazette

October 8, 2013

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: The 3,000’ grass airstrip just southeast of Highway 59 near Louis, Texas is tough to spot. Trees extend along both sides and an even denser stand masks its northwestern-most end. But the field is flat and has good drainage so it’s rarely closed for long even after a big rain. Upon landing a golf cart directs us to a parking spot. "Welcome to the Flying V Ranch!"

The V stands for Vajdos. Robbie Vajdos and his company Vajdos Aviation have been hosting an annual fly-in called Under The Wire since 1989. All proceeds generated from the event go to local community programs.

The airstrip, built on land inherited from his great-grandfather, a Czech immigrant who fled from the Prussian Army, was once part of a cattle ranch and farmland. Electrical wires strung across the runway about 40 feet above, a third of the way down, gave pilots had a choice: land early and roll out under the wire, or fly over it and land with quite a bit less runway available. In the days of barnstormers and other real pilots, before the overpopulation of opportunistic lawyers, the wire offered sharp pilots a challenge. But people have changed, so to avoid a potential disaster Robbie and the electric co-op agreed to bury the wires underground.

There’s more to Vajdos than a super fun fly-in. The son of a WWII B-25 pilot, Robbie’s flying started early, soloing an airplane at age 16. Particular fascination with his father’s era of aviation drove the boy to ardent study of the planes. Fixated on a nearby Boeing Stearman, Robbie was denied the chance to fly it at the age of 20 when the owner felt he needed more experience. "So I bought a project airplane," Robbie says, "and first learned how to rebuild it."

A year later the FAA gave its blessing on his work, allowing him to fly it. "I taxied up and down the runway for two hours getting the feel of it. Then I just went for it," he says of teaching himself to fly his first Stearman.

Since that day in 1987 he has restored 18 Stearmans, a Ryan PT-22, Grumman AgCat, DeHavilland Tiger Moth, Piper Cubs, Aeronca Champs and Citabrias. His work has been recognized around the world, winning prestigious awards at the two largest aviation venues: 1994, 1995 and 2005 WW II Trainer Champion at Oshkosh, 1995 Grand and Reserve Vintage Champion at Sun ‘n’ Fun. Recipient of both the Gold and Silver Wrench awards for outstanding workmanship, he was also featured in the Bob Bullock Museum’s 100 years of Texas.

Linda: Want a classic vintage biplane of your own? Vajdos Aviation offers a turn-key Stearman; a fully restored Stearman delivered to you about four years after placing your order.

His talents don’t end with his expert craft breathing new life into old planes; Robbie is also an accomplished pilot currently holding FAA letters of authorization to fly the Douglas SBD Dauntless, Grumman Hellcat, Republic P-47 Thunderbolt, and his favorite, the Vought F4U Corsair.

While the recognition is deserved, possibly the best reward is knowing his teenage daughter shares his passion for flying. To celebrate her 14th birthday she will begin flying lessons so that the pair can take a "Sweet 16" summer tour around the United States in the Piper Cub he is rebuilding just for her. She's already selected her colors: pink with a black lightning bolt.

www.ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

October 1, 2013 Challenge Air

The Liberty Gazette

October 1, 2013

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: The strapping young Texan could flash a degree from the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis and tell stories of his 109 combat missions over Vietnam by the age of 26, but not 110. The next mission would have to wait – 22+ years – and then the enemy wouldn’t be North Vietnamese, it would be the limitations of disabilities, physical and developmental.

Challenge Air for Kids and Friends was born out of the goal that "every disabled person should see the world from a different view…out of their wheelchairs and in the sky," and it was Rick Amber’s 109th combat mission that opened the door for his mission.

Rick, a Navy fighter pilot and training officer, crashed his jet during a landing attempt on the aircraft carrier, the USS Hancock, going instantly from Navy pilot jock to paraplegic. To pull one’s self up by bootstraps on legs that don’t walk takes a determination beyond what most of us know.

Aiming high and wheeling through his changed life, Rick earned more degrees from UT and SMU and began teaching math and science in Dallas.

Mike: The pivotal moment came when he was asked to design a curriculum for an aviation class. From that request came the drive to return to the air, this time flying an airplane equipped with hand controls. Refusing to accept the boundaries of the wheelchair, Rick proved to the FAA that he could fly an airplane, and earned not just a pilot license, but a commercial license and a certified flight instructor certificate as well.

Drawing on his experience teaching wheeled kids to play tennis (his own championship tennis title yet another strong credential) Rick invited some children to the Addison airport and took them flying. What he witnessed was a change in attitude toward their own disability, and that change, the effect of flight, led the way for Challenge Air.

Modifying a Cessna Cardinal with hand controls to operate the brake and rudder pedals, Rick set Challenge Air on course to becoming a nonprofit organization. And then, the flying began. Special needs children at community events nationwide would be taken up in the air for the experience of a lifetime.

In 1997, just four years after that first group of kids took turns flying in the modified Cessna over the Dallas skyline, Rick passed away with cancer. Today his legacy lives on through a nationwide network of 3,500 volunteers: board, staff, volunteers and thousands of pilots who continue the mission of building self-esteem and confidence in children with special needs.

When parents report that their child now sees beyond their perceived limitations – as one special flyer said, "I can fly a plane!" – Challenge Air’s mission is confirmed, reflecting the life-changing impact the flight experience has on children, families, donors, sponsors and communities as a whole.

Again this year, Challenge Air for Kids and Friends will spark enthusiasm and fill hearts with encouragement as volunteer pilots and Challenge Air kids meet for Fly Day at the Conroe Airport on October 19. If you’d like to volunteer in any capacity, call 214-351-3353,
or go online to www.ChallengeAir.com. We’d love to see you there.

Thanks, Rick Amber, for the vision. You rose from your wheelchair to lift others up.

^{www.ElyAirLines.blogspot.com}

September 24, 2013 Chicken wings

The Liberty Gazette

September 24, 2013

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: A major aviation data company has just begun another round of data collection directly from airline crews. The data is collected using i-devices (iPhones, iPads, iPod Touch) and is given to scientists to analyze and advance pilot fatigue prediction models. It will be a topic of discussion on aviation message boards, but I wonder what ever happened to just saying, "I’m tired."

Linda: Of the many topics with relevance to aviation with which we strive to keep up, I recently came across one that, well, makes sense that it comes up for discussion in some circles, but it’s one I hadn’t given thought to before, happily not being in the depths of the airline business. See what you think of this question: "Are there restrictions concerning supplying on-board airline passengers meat with bones?"

In the professional aviation forum where this question hatched, a hearty demand for chicken wings was the impetus. Of course, no thanks to those who love litigation, this society is afraid of its own shadow now, and there is such a thing as "aviation food safety."

So if you were responsible for this decision at your airline, would you go for the wings, or stick with peanuts, and pretzels for those with nut allergies? What if cost wasn’t an issue? After all, regional airline pilots are only volunteers, and are saving the airlines millions.

I know the first thing you’re thinking – health concerns, the potential for choking on chicken bones, or e-coli from blood in the bone. Well, we’d have to peel back the layers and look deeper. Weight of the bones could be a factor. Bones with meat, as opposed to boneless meat, requires a bigger serving container and more room to heat the dish. Reheating meat on the bone is a bit trickier than heating it without.

And then there are the questions of disposal. Bones add both weight and volume for handling at the destination. Where would bags of bones be stowed until disposed of?

Plenty of input came from forum members but one question surely topped it all: What about opportunistic enemies and other nut-jobs who watch way too much television who would convert a broken chicken bone into a weapon and use it to attempt a highjack?

Okay, maybe while we try to digest this we shouldn’t get the Chick-fil-A cows too excited just yet. Have you had an inflight meal recently? Sizes are now down to what, snack size kiddie meals? Perhaps passengers should just fly without their wings; after all, they’d be more likely to enjoy a larger portion and the sauce and seasonings of their choice with a preflight meal in the terminal. On the other hand, maybe with the cost of food going up higher than the airlines’ flight levels passengers could buy boneless wings and get a free flight.

Mike: So speaking of what you’re willing to pluck from your wallet for air travel, just curious, how much above the ticket price would you pay if airlines offered to pack a parachute under the seat? Of course back in November of 1971 Northwest Orient Airlines actually provided one passenger with not one, but four parachutes and paid him $200,000 to take them. And where is D. B. Cooper now?

www.ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

September 17, 2013 Raining fish and...toilet paper?

The Liberty Gazette

September 17, 2013

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely


Mike: It sounds a bit fishy but it’s a story that came my way thirty years ago from a game warden pilot who worked for California’s Fish and Game department. I was a flight instructor at Long Beach/Daugherty Field in California when I met a couple of pilots who flew the department’s single engine Cessna airplanes based there. Their job was multi-faceted including inventorying game, transporting personnel, aerial photography and searching for illegal poaching activity, but their stories about planting fish in the Sierra-Nevada Mountains’ backcountry lakes and streams are my favorites.

Fish and Game pilots accomplished the task with a Beechcraft KingAir twin-engine turboprop with a belly pod, which is where the fish rode. The KingAir would fly low over a lake and then jettison the load of fish from the pod much like a "borate bomber" would unleash a load of red-orange slurry on a forest fire. Frequent fish flying made these pilots pretty good at the game; the piles of plummeting pesce almost always plopped down right on target, but in mountainous terrain are often unpredictable air currents and turbulence which can interfere with the pilot’s aim.

On one such occasion the pilot missed the lake almost entirely. Normally a game warden is on the ground and in radio contact with the pilot to ensure the drop zone is clear, as was the case on this day. When the pilot set up his approach to the small lake, he opened the hatch about a second too late and the fish flopped down on the far lake shore, landing not too far from a couple of fishermen who didn’t have any idea what was going on.

Startled by the sudden raining of fish, the two speechless and befuddled fishermen ran over to where the fish had landed and stood there looking around at all those fish lying on the ground.

The game warden seeing the fishermen in the middle of the "catch" couldn’t resist the opportunity presented by this scene. He walked over and looked at all the fish, then looked at the fishermen, then back at the fish as he slowly removed his citation book from his pack.

The fishermen protested "No! A plane came by and dumped ‘em here!"

"Right, sure," said the warden as he continued to cite the pair.

"Really, they just fell here and we came over to look. You don’t really think we caught all of these do you?"

"Yeah, they just fell from the sky," the warden baited them on. But he couldn’t keep from laughing at the flabbergasted fishermen and soon the truth was out about the fishy downpour.

Another silly story about falling stuff came from a young man who celebrated his high school graduation by flying with a friend in a Cessna 172. Having filled the airplane with a case of toilet paper it’s no surprise it rolled out the windows. Holding on to the start of each roll the boys let them unravel and rip away from the force of the air moving around the airplane. Once started, the rolls continued to unfurl and eventually floated down, coming to rest upon buildings and trees in the small downtown.

The pranksters landed and snuck back into town to enjoy the masterpiece TP job with which they had graced their hometown.

If you know someone graduating this school year you might keep that in mind.

www.ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

September 10, 2013 Catchin' the fever - Hoosier style

The Liberty Gazette

September 10, 2013

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Another blatant act of zoomarama was committed recently by aerial speed junkies. Fantastic Midwestern August weather greeted air racers as they zipped around the city known as the auto racing capital of the world, Indianapolis, causing smiles to appear on the faces of sponsors, volunteers, racers and race fans, from newborns to seniors.

Linda: My nephew Levi made up the other half of Team Ely this time. "Awesome! Simply awesome!" were his words when they returned from the course. He went to an aviation camp earlier this year and this was the first real time he was able to practice the navigation principals and skills he learned there. For his services he was rewarded with a first place trophy and an hour flight lesson after the race from my favorite flight instructor.

Mike: I had as much fun teaching Levi new things and introducing him to new experiences during that flight lesson. Like anyone who is enthusiastic and prepared to learn, he absorbed what he was taught and did a great job performing the maneuvers. He even did his first landing. He’ll be a great pilot someday.

Linda: Many stories like Levi’s are overlooked because they occur off the race course and he wasn’t the only person to experience post-race euphoria.

Case in point: One racer’s generosity and enthusiasm won the day for a fan that came to see airplanes and wound up a passenger on a fun after race flight. You know how you hold up your hands, palms out, showing all ten fingers / thumbs? When asked how the flight was on a scale of one-to-ten Mark opened and closed his hands "in tens" several times. Probably in his 50’s now, Mark flew once in an airplane as a youngster but hasn’t since then. He wanted to join the Air Force but his eyes are not good, and a doctor has told him he will lose his vision soon. Let that soak in. He’s always wanted to fly but has been unable to. One racer’s pivotal action changed the day. While he can still see, Mark was invited by Dave to take to the air and ride the wind, leaving gravity’s grasp, breathing in moments he will cherish forever in freedom of flight.

Mike: The chance to see airplanes up close brought out families with small children, too; like the family with several children who were playing kickball at a park nearby and upon seeing race planes fly overhead piled into the car to find out what was going on. They ended up munching on popcorn and snow cones, jumping in the bounce house, chasing balsa wood gliders, and walking up close to the airplanes after they landed.

Linda: Jorge, a new employee at the airport who is working toward earning his aircraft mechanic license brought his wife and their seven children to see Planes – we’d all gone to the premier the night before the race. The family travels together in a small bus, and race day would be the first time the children would see airplanes up close. Even my mom’s broken shoulder didn’t keep her at home. She’s a real trooper, and loves these air races.

Mike: We hope that those who joined us learned a little more about airplanes and went away from the experience with a new horizon to appreciate.

www.ElyAirLines.Blogspot.com

September 3, 2013 Hank's Stowaway

The Liberty Gazette

September 3, 2013

 

Psssst: The following story was shortened for space in the print version but appears here in full-length, as originally written.
 

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

 

Linda: This week we’re sharing Hank’s story. He’s from California, but don’t hold that against him. It’s a good one.

 

Hank: Last week Michelle and I took a short flight in my Cessna 172, the one painted like a bee, down to the Reid-Hillview airport just south of San Jose. We were going down to pick-up a Margaritaville drink maker machine that I had bought on Craigslist. We arrived at the plane about 10:30 did the normal preflight inspection and got ready to go. I taxied out to the runway, had an uneventful takeoff and was climbing through 600 feet when I noticed we had a stowaway.

Hank's Cessna 172

I was looking out the windshield when a wasp dropped out of the left air vent. He landed on the dash and started flexing his wings and tail. I'm pretty sure he was about a foot long with a two foot wing span and a stinger the size of a fountain pen. I stared at him and he stared back at me.
 

I think I said, "Oh, look Michelle, there is a wasp on the dashboard."

 

It probably came out like, "Holy crap there's a huge freaking wasp on the dashboard kill it before it kills us!"

 

 Michelle looked over at me and immediately pushed herself as far back in her seat as she could and said something like, "Sweetie, would you please get the wasp out of the airplane?"

 

What she actually said was at a pitch beyond what the human ear can hear.
 

At that point the wasp apparently heard her and began flying around the cockpit. I decided that I needed to concentrate on flying the airplane so I ignored the inhuman sounds coming from the passenger seat, continued to climb and made my turn toward the south.
 

Once I got on course and trimmed the airplane I picked up some paper and started looking for the wasp. It wasn't long before the wasp landed on the windshield right in front of me. I reached out and squashed him against the windshield and he fell onto the dash. I was very pleased with myself and looked over at Michelle expecting some praise. Instead, I saw wide eyes and finger pointing. I looked back at the dash and saw that the wasp had picked himself up and was now standing on the edge of the dash staring at me with a look of fury.

 

Before I could attempt another squash maneuver, he toppled over the dash, landing somewhere near our feet, by the way, we are both wearing sandals.
 

At that point, Michelle pulled both her feet off the floor and said, "Sweetie, the wasp isn't dead."
 

What came out was again beyond my capability to hear. She started looking for the wasp but said she couldn't see it. I reassured her that I had in fact squished it so hard that it must now be dead.
 

We flew for another five minutes, I was starting to feel better, then I looked over at the area where the front seats come together and you guessed it, the wasp had crawled up between the seats and was now zeroed in on Michelle's left thigh.
 

I told her that the wasp was now on her seat doing a slow crawl toward her thigh. She immediately closed her Nook electronic reader and promptly smashed it against the wasp.
 

I forgot to add that I put sheepskin covers on the seats; they have about two inches of nice fluffy wool that keeps you warm in the winter and cool in the summer. They also make it very difficult to smash a wasp with a Nook.

A reasonable facsimile of Hank's stowaway

 

Michelle decided that it would be best if she just kept the Nook pressed against the wasp until we landed. So for the next 20 minutes she kept the Nook pressed against the wasp so hard her knuckles were white.
 

We finally made it to Reid-Hillview and landed. Once I parked and shut down the engine, we both opened our doors. We stepped out and Michelle slowly lifted the Nook. Mr. Wasp was still alive and moving. He was a little lethargic from being pressed into luxuriously soft and fluffy wool for 20 minutes. He struggled to get up and fell to the floor where I finally dispatched him and removed him from the plane.
 

I guess you might say it was a pretty stressful flight for Michelle. I looked around the plane and found another dead wasp on the floor.
 

From now on, I am going to make sure the vents on the plane are closed when I lock it up after flying.

 

We picked up the drink machine and took off for the return trip. The flight back to Concord was uneventful.
 

It was a great day for flying, bad day for stowaways, bees and wasps just don't mix.
 

www.ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

August 27, 2013 Hanoi Taxi

The Liberty Gazette

August 27, 2013

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

　
Mike: I first learned about the Lockheed C-141 Starlifter that was in the corner of the ramp in Reno, Nevada from Jan, the woman behind the desk at the FBO. "It’s some sort of flying museum. They used to fly troops to Vietnam in it," she said.

I recollect Dad’s office in San Bernardino, California near Norton Air Force Base, where several C-141’s parked between trips to South East Asia, but they recollect something else.

Big is the word, and it was the workhorse of the U.S. Air Force’s heavy lift fleet. When I began flying cancelled checks in a Piper Lance out of Blythe, California I’d watch for the lumbering transports to cross in front of me along a ridge, maybe 500 feet above it, training.

But here was a particular Starlifter, registration number 66-0177, the Hanoi Taxi; one of fifteen C-141’s that carried our P.O.W.s from Hanoi back to U.S. soil. This particular day in Reno I only had a few minutes to check it out as people filtered through its front doors, eventually exiting down the ramp at the airplane’s rear.

This past February 12^th marked the 40th anniversary of the start of Operation Homecoming. On that first day the Hanoi Taxi and two other C-141’s flew 116 P.O.W.s to Davis Air Force Base in the Philippines, then to Norton A.F.B. for emotionally wrenching reunions with loved ones.

54 flights brought home 591 of our boys between February 12 and April 4, 1973. Among them was U.S.A.F. Col. George Everett "Bud" Day, after he spent more than five years and seven months in the hellhole prison called the Hanoi Hilton. He was one of the last Vietnam War soldiers to receive the Medal of Honor. Other American prisoners may not have been as well-known as Col. Day or Senator John McCain, but their stories are just as important. Each suffered defending our freedoms along with the 58,152 soldiers who paid the ultimate sacrifice, including 2,255 missing or killed in action, body not recovered. About 80 percent of the missing are airmen shot down over Vietnam and Laos.

When the Hanoi Taxi was not on display as a museum, it continued to serve as a transport aircraft. It even flew relief and evacuation missions during Hurricane Katrina. In 2006, 40 years after it took to the air, 66-0177 was retired to The Museum of the Air Force in Dayton, Ohio where it can be appreciated today.

The following day I was back in Reno, the C-141 had moved on, but Jan was there to fill me in. On board the airplane is a plaque of P.O.W.s flown home. The 591.

^{www.ElyAirLines.blogspot.com}

August 20, 2013 Inky and Stinky

The Liberty Gazette

August 20, 2013

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: It was a Monday morning about 5:00 a.m. when a pilot began loading an airplane with containers on the UPS ramp at Ontario Airport in California. Filled to capacity with boxes and bags, the airplane departed for California’s Central Valley. The unpressurized twin-engine turboprop climbed to over 10,000 feet to cross the San Gabriel Mountains, the Mojave Desert and the southern Sierra Nevada Mountains before making an approach into Bakersfield where it would be met by a UPS truck. As the rear doors were opened an incredible stench greeted the pilot and UPS truck driver.

As the unloading process continued the foul smelling second-day-air package was finally discovered, leaking fluids on every package around it and through the floor panels of the airplane’s cargo compartment. The rewards of a hunting trip in Alaska would be left to someone’s memories – someone who packed moose meat in a box with ice, not dry ice, but the wet kind. Flying at altitude in the unpressurized cargo compartment caused the bag containing the rotten smelly water to expand like a balloon and then leak. Perhaps it was an effort to pinch a penny here or there, but failing to mark "perishable" and pay for a guaranteed delivery date meant the once-frozen package that arrived after all the feeder aircraft and trucks had left would be stored on the ramp Saturday and Sunday in 100+ degree heat.

The pilot and a mechanic cleaned and deodorized the airplane as best they could, but without success, and that is how the Beechcraft BE99 known as N12AK became known to the pilots who flew her as "Stinky."

Stinky had a sister ship – N34AK. Less than two weeks after the aforementioned incident I was flying the newly acquired red and white turboprop (still sporting the paint scheme of the previous operator, Air Kentucky) over the same route as eau de moose meat. Upon landing I opened the cargo doors, and then I saw red – red, gooey stuff that is – oozing down the sides of several of the packages, and spilling out of boxes distributed throughout the load. Without any package markings the boxes lay on their side or upside down, and whatever was inside was anybody’s guess.

Pulling aside one of 20 red-soaked boxes, the UPS driver and I opened it to find two loosely closed Tupperware containers of printer’s ink. Nineteen more boxes meant ten gallons of the stuff was leaking everywhere, seeping into the airplane’s subfloor and through joints in the outer skin. I cleaned as much as I could reach, and the mechanics did their part, but hiding away in crevasses there always seemed to be more that would streak the outside of the airplane every time it flew through rain.　With the red and white paint scheme it wasn’t as obvious. But after the airplane was repainted blue and white, a flight through rain made the streaks quite noticeable, and that is how the Beechcraft BE99 known as N34AK became known as "Inky."

The tales of Inky and Stinky describe two minor, even comical incidents, but shipping undocumented hazardous material by air, whether knowingly or unknowingly, is no laughing matter. Take this old freight dog’s plea and properly mark your packages – doing so could save lives.

www.ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

August 13, 2013 Arriving Osh

The Liberty Gazette

August 13, 2013

Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Just back from a trip north, to the big playground for aviators. For a week every year, end of July through early August the small city of Oshkosh, Wisconsin becomes a bustling community of wing nuts. Of four large conventions in varying industries, AirVenture is the last on the town’s summer calendar, and the largest convention of any kind, drawing 800,000 people and 12,000 airplanes. During summer months restaurants quadruple their staff, a great fit for teachers and students. Sales of big ticket items are frequent; it’s not uncommon to find an airplane, a few exotic cars and a boat or two displayed on a restaurant lawn.

The world’s best air traffic controllers come by invitation to manage the skies over Oshkosh during the week of AirVenture; and proudly hang the large banner on the outside of the control tower touting, "World’s Busiest Control Tower". During peak arrival times it seems they can barely take a breath between giving instructions to pilots on approach and landing.

I funneled in according to the rules for arriving at Oshkosh, over the town of Ripon, which is about 15 miles southwest of Oshkosh. Transponder turned to "Standby," landing light on, airspeed down to 90 knots, altitude 1,800’ – Check! Just look for the Ripon water tower and grain silos, then follow the railroad tracks that run north-south and then take a bend northeast. No talking on the radio unless a controller asks you something. No S-turns allowed, keep a half-mile spacing between you and the next airplane. No overtaking is allowed, and if you’re gaining on another airplane return to Ripon and start over.

Stay directly over the meandering railroad tracks, do not fly a straight line, through Ripon ten miles northeast to Fisk Avenue. At Fisk, a contingent of air traffic controllers housed in a comfortable trailer, equipped with radios, binoculars, and lawn chairs, take their best shot at airplane identification and instruct each pilot flying over to "Rock your wings!" Hearing that is sort of like making the field at Indy and hearing, "Gentlemen, start your engines," triggering your official start as you enter the flow to the world’s largest fly-in and air show.

As I did last year, I contacted my friend Grant to let him know we’d be approaching Fisk Sunday evening around supper time. He was scheduled to work the Fisk Arrival Sunday, but was apparently on a break when we came through. The controller on duty gave me the welcome, albeit with a mistaken identity but I knew he meant me, "Red and white RV, Rock Your Wings!"

Along with several other airplanes we made our way from Fisk Avenue toward the gravel pit, staying between the pit and the northern most runway, entering the traffic pattern flying right downwind to Runway 27. Turning into the base leg over Lake Winnebago, then turning final, the tower controller directed me to land on the orange dot, then changed it to the green dot.

Once down and parked I had a full week of fun work ahead representing my employer. On the last day Grant invited me up for a tower tour and I watched the busyness from up high. Later, as I departed on Runway 18, I heard my good friend’s voice from the tower, "Have a safe flight, Linda, see you back home." There’s just nothing like Oshkosh.

www.ElyAirLines.blogspot.com