June 20, 2023 Re-Settles

The Liberty Gazette

June 20, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

We got a hot tip on some cool digs, and it sounds like a perfect sky trip. Some friends from the airpark just returned from Big Spring after traversing the Permian Basin. It seems most of the hotels were full, but then they heard about a posh place downtown that had some vacancies. They found the price to their liking and decided to stay. 

They said you could see this place from a long way off as you come into Big Spring. It’s a fifteen-story art deco hotel built in 1930 by a man named W. R. Settles who owned some land upon which oil was discovered. Settles bought the property at West Third Street and Runnels and built his hotel, which opened in October 1930 with great fanfare, a place to rival any five-star New York hotel. But the Great Depression zapped Settles’ fortunes, and within two years, he was bankrupt and had to sell. The property changed hands many times after that, and in 1980 the Settles dream came to an end when the doors closed for good. The building was trashed by vagrants and became an eyesore. 

Cue Brint Ryan, native son of Big Spring, now a rock star of CPAs, who made his fortune after moving to Dallas and working as a tax accountant and became world renown. He purchased Hotel Settles in 2006 and invested a small fortune ($30 million to a billionaire is nothing) in returning it to its original 1930’s opulence. Ryan reopened the hotel in December 2012 with a great celebration. Each floor has only five rooms, or more appropriately, suites. And it isn’t that far out of the price range of the Hilton Garden Inn or Holiday Inn Express.

We have landed in Big Spring a number of times. However, those were just refueling stops as we headed west. We are now thinking of taking time to explore those hidden jewels of the western part of the state and might push back at the winds to Big Spring for a weekend getaway. This may even be a candidate for another fly-and-bike trip. From a satellite image, it looks like we can ride our bikes from the McMahon-Wrinkle Airport on the southwest side of Big Spring, and staying off I-20, meander about four miles into town, past the state park, maybe stop in at H-E-B for an energy bar, and make it to the magnificent, storied hotel in half an hour.

Best-selling novelist Bryan Mealer, also sprung from Big Spring, wrote the most beautiful piece on the history of Hotel Settles in Texas Monthly magazine shortly after Ryan re-opened the hotel. You can find Bryan’s article on the internet by going to the magazine’s website and searching “Up with the Old Hotel.” From its fabulous past, through its era of shame, to its crumbling decay past the point of no return, to its shocking rebirth that spread hope for a future for the town mourning it, Hotel Settles is beckoning us. 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

June 13, 2023 48N48

The Liberty Gazette

June 13, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

We recently wrote about John Cook and Rob Timm, who set a world record back in 1959 that still stands: flying consistently for 64 days, 22 hours, and 19 minutes, a publicity stunt for a hotel. Since Guinness World Records offers many opportunities for people to make or break records by offering a wide variety of categories, there’s plenty of room for more.

That’s probably what stoked Barry Behnfeldt when he heard that two pilots had once tried to land in all lower 48 states of the United States within 48 hours. They didn’t make their goal, but the idea landed well in Barry’s brain. He could do this to promote aviation and benefit Veteran’s Airlift Command, which provides free, private air transportation to our combat injured veterans for medical or other compassionate purposes through a national network of volunteer aircraft owners and pilots.

Barry started flying at age 16 near his family’s home in Henry County, Ohio. He was working his way toward a civilian pilot career when he thought he’d like to see more of the world. The Air Force was a little slow to get it together, and after talking with a Navy recruiter, he decided that landing on an aircraft carrier sounded like a lot of fun. He flew F-18s for 17 years – a real-life Top Gun – with a total of 30 years in the Navy. Today, he is a captain with Delta Airlines. 

Barry also owns a personal airplane, a six-seat 1980 Piper Saratoga, which he thought would be an excellent choice for claiming that record, 48 states in 48 hours. He hosted a happy hour at his home, where he made his first presentation to friends. They agreed to help him in various ways, but he still needed a co-pilot and a mechanic. At Delta, Barry had flown with Aaron Wilson on several trips and was impressed by his skill, professionalism, and personality. Aaron, an Air Force veteran flying the C-17, and a fellow alumni of Bowling Green State University’s aviation program, would make the perfect co-pilot for this endeavor. The choice for mechanic was easy. Barry knew Tom Twiddy from the Navy, another 30-year career guy. Tom had wrenched on aircraft for many years and already knew Barry’s Saratoga as it’s primary care-giver for maintenance and annual inspections. 

The trio researched the rules laid out by Guinness and the FAA, studied the weather, and decided on the best route (5,008 nautical miles). They took off from Andrews University Airpark in Berrien Springs, Michigan, on June 4 and after 46 more landings, finally touched down at Sanford Seacoast Regional Airport in Sanford, Maine, 44 hours and 16 minutes later.

To earn the record, they had to get signatures from someone at each airport, the coordination of which was quite an effort. The longest leg was an hour and 34 minutes; the shortest was 9 minutes. 

For more on their exciting journey, and to learn more about Veteran’s Airlift Command, go to 48N48.org. 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

June 6, 2023 A Miracle

The Liberty Gazette

June 6, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Today, our grandson Myles turns 21. We call it a miracle. Born with a rare form of Severe Combined Immune Deficiency, a/k/a the “boy in the bubble disease,” he had no functioning immune system. By the time he was 10, two bone marrow transplants had failed, and while preparing for the third, lymphoma popped up for the second time, postponing the transplant. 

We gathered photos of head-shaving parties held by friends and family around the world and put them together for an inspiring YouTube video, “Shaved Heads for Myles,” with Indiana University’s a cappella group, Straight No Chaser, singing “Stand by Me.” 

Our family took turns staying with Myles in the hospital or with his younger siblings at home. There was something special about staying with Myles. He loves to tease, especially doctors and hospital staff. It was one way he combatted exhaustion, pain, boredom, and sorrow over friends who didn’t make it, as he fought on. 

Between treatments, we did schoolwork, Bible study, built Legos, and watched movies. Over Thanksgiving, he chose Spider-Man, The Avengers, and just for me, Red Tails.

The next day, his doctor gave him a four-hour pass, so we went to the local airport. I took him out to our airplane and buckled him in for a flight. We did several touch-and-goes, staying in the traffic pattern because he couldn’t go anywhere else yet. We looked for his doctor’s house in the neighborhoods below. With Red Tails fresh on our minds, we scanned the sky for enemy planes. Turning toward our imaginary prey, we pretended to press a trigger on the yoke, and rolled our R’s as our tongues vibrated the roofs of our mouths: “BRRRRRAAPTT!” And I saw him smile. Not just from his lips, but from his whole being beamed happiness, as he gazed out the window taking in the view from aloft. It thrilled my soul, and I will always be grateful. Plus, it gave him a unique story to tell back at the hospital. 

Preparing his medications, his nurse asked over her shoulder, “How was your pass today? What did you do?” 

He shrugged. “Nothing.” 

I glared at him in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

His lips barely curled as he tried to restrain a smirk. He held his composure as much to taunt me as to harass the nurse, who turned suddenly from her work. “Sounds like you have something to tell!”

Myles replied offhandedly, like a cool dude, “It was good.” Then the grin broke through and he shrugged to maintain the cool: “I went flying with Nanny.”

Myles was discharged several months earlier than expected. While the first 100 days post-transplant are critical, he did remarkably well, allowing him to be in isolation at home rather than the hospital. 

We sent thank-you cards and a Superman cape through the National Marrow Donor Program to the anonymous young man in Germany who donated his healthy bone marrow. This hero’s gift saved our grandson’s life.

Today, Myles is a junior in college, a champion weightlifter, a gifted artist, a motivational speaker, and is writing a book. And now he’s 21. A miracle.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

May 31, 2023 Non-Stop for How Long?

The Liberty Gazette

May 31, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Our recent trip to the Pacific Northwest totaled 36 hours in the air. Not all at once, mind you. We took breaks. We stopped before night fall. We stretched our legs, eliminated excess water loads, and switched seats at each fuel stop. We weren’t in a hurry – we were on vacation – and we weren’t looking to break any endurance records. If we had wanted to try that, we’d have had to fly consistently for more than 64 days, 22 hours, and 19 minutes. I cannot even imagine desiring that badge. Apparently, there aren’t too many other takers either. 

The record was set by John Cook and Rob Timm back in 1959. What in the world made them strive for such a title? Well, three years prior, Mr. Timm, a former WWII fighter pilot, got a job repairing slot machines at the Hacienda hotel in Las Vegas. The hotel was new, one of the first family-oriented resorts in the mostly non-family-oriented city. The owner was pondering ways to publicize his venture and liked Timm’s idea: paint the business’s name on an airplane and fly around over the city for a long time, breaking the flight endurance record, which was, at that time, 47 days. The record had been held for seven years when the boss agreed to the wild idea. After all, he wasn’t going to be the one who had to sit in an airplane for that long. He only had to come up with the money to pay for it.

Rob Timm modified a Cessna 172 (a four-seat airplane driven by a single propeller) to make the attempt as comfortable as possible. He would have a co-pilot and they’d take turns flying. He put in a mattress, a small, metal sink, a camp toilet, and an autopilot. The latter of these worked when it was most needed, when Timm fell asleep at the wheel for about an hour. But it broke a few days later. 

They figured they could refuel without stopping by installing an extra fuel tank to be filled as necessary. To accomplish this, they descended to just feet above the ground and flew the airplane as slow as it could go and still be airborne while a truck drove along underneath, and someone handed up a hose and turned on the pump. They took the opportunity to send up supplies at the same time, like mashed-up meals in a thermos and a quart of water every other day for bathing. On the 39th day, the refueling pump broke, so they manually filled the tank during the remainder of the record flight. In the end, lots of things were broken, like the fuel gauge and cabin heater, but the engine was going strong.

No word on how many bookings were made as a result of this stunt, but after almost 65 days of virtual inactivity, the men had to be carried out of the airplane. We’ll stick to our routine of landing every couple of hours.

*Photo credit: Howard W. Cannon Aviation Museum 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

May 23, 2023 Best Seat in the House

The Liberty Gazette

May 23, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Arizona’s Monument Valley is a movie maker’s paradise. This iconic western backdrop has been used in many films, like the closing scene of the blockbuster How the West Was Won (1962), where George Peppard and family ride off in their wagon singing “I’ll Build You a Home in the Meadow,” and The Searchers (1956), starring John Wayne, who plays an uncle searching for his niece who was abducted by Comanches after they massacred her family.

I love watching westerns on a big screen where I’m engulfed by the landscape. But I had long wanted to see Monument Valley in person. I’ve skirted it many times and have flown over it late at night. It seemed every time I was flying in the Four Corners region something prevented me from making a side trip to this land of bulky stone masses and spires dressed in reds and tans and casting long shadows. 

Flying back from Washington was at our leisure; we were not on anyone else’s schedule, and this allowed us to deviate southward from our planned route for a little flightseeing. 

After clearing high mountains southeast of Salt Lake, we crossed some pinion pine-covered mountains and table-top mesas broken by deep slot-canyons. The Colorado river snaked its way between washed-out walls as it headed toward Glenn Canyon Dam. The aeronautical chart depicted Lake Powell below us, but the only indication we could see was lighter ground where water had once covered it. 

A little further south, we flew over the San Juan River and into the airspace over Navajoland. The Navajo Indian Reservation takes up more than 27,000 square miles—the largest Indian reservation in the United States. Monument Valley is right in the middle of it. Compare that to Grand Canyon National Park, barely seven percent that size at 1,900 square miles. 

The towering sediment and sandstone formations were visible from fifty miles away through dusty, hazy air. Within twenty minutes after first spotting the main formations, we were flying lazy circles over the valley and snapping pictures. 

From my seat, I envisioned tell-tale dust trails kicked up by stagecoaches, cavalry, and attacking warriors. As dust-devils danced across the flat lands between the rock monuments, I imagined natives sending up smoke signals. That in turn made me think of the heroic Navajo Code Talkers of WWII—their Navajo language code never being deciphered by the Japanese. Ours was a unique view, every photo and video shot from a different angle, catching the late morning light in this land of western movie legends. 

When I first moved to Texas, I heard people ask (sarcastically) about another part of the country, “What part of Texas is that?” Ironically, while enjoying a bird’s-eye view of Monument Valley, I thought of The Searchers and director John Ford’s use of this canvas to depict Texas, where that story takes place. I also considered how fortunate we were to get this view from a small airplane. It’s the best seat in the house.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

May 16, 2023 Family, Mountains, and Dog Parties

The Liberty Gazette

May 16, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Following a relaxing visit with Mike’s siblings in Madras, Oregon, near Redmond, we hopped over the Cascade Mountains to McMinnville to see his cousin Doug and Aunt Delores. A nonagenarian, Aunt Delores is a bright lady, enthusiastic about life. She didn’t know we were coming – it was a surprise – so we didn’t figure she’d know we had fought a strong headwind coming up from south Texas. Yet she was well aware. “There are two weather masses colliding, forming an occluded front,” she told us. “Were you affected by that flying up here?” 

Aunt Delores isn’t a pilot, she spent her life farming and raising kids. I think she and my mom would make great friends. Mom says, “remain curious and interested,” and Aunt Delores certainly embodies that. During our brief visit, she held lively discussions about politics, economics, education, philosophy, religion, local news, and of course, farming. There’s no idle mind there, and she’s one of the most upbeat, pleasant people I’ve ever met. I always feel full of happiness when I’m with her. Time spent with Aunt Delores goes by too fast. 

Mt St Helens

Cousin Doug took us back to the McMinnville airport so we could get on to Bellingham, Washington by the time my sister Diane got off work. The day was clear enough to see Mount St. Helen’s butchered profile, the result of a major eruption May 18, 1980. We took pictures from the air of snow-capped Mount Hood and Mount Rainier, too. The Olympic Mountains were not far, off to our left, likewise dusted in white powder.

Approaching the Navy’s runways on Whidbey Island, the scene was what I remembered from years ago, right after I got my private pilot certificate and came up here to go island-hopping: touch-and-go’s on all the island runways. The shimmering water of Puget Sound comes from the snow melting on those grand peaks, flows around the many humps of terra firma and empties into the Pacific Ocean. The wind had calmed down by the time we landed at Bellingham, and Willie, Diane’s beau, was there to greet us.

This lovely couple enjoys hiking in the many parks in their bucolic hometown. They had planned to take us to the best restaurants, so, foodies that we are, we rejoiced in this glorious break from work – eating, hiking, eating, hiking, eating, hiking. Plus, an incredible brewery-dog park. We planted ourselves at a picnic table there to get our dog-fix. Like P.D. Eastman’s Go Dog. Go! it was a dog party, with big dogs and little dogs, and even one with a party hat.

The sky owed us a screaming tailwind for the trip home and paid its debt quite nicely. We made a few turns around Monument Valley, a plateau with clusters of sandstone buttes where several movie scenes have been filmed, and over Four Corners, where each wing and the tail of our airplane were simultaneously over Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona, before scooting home to our pups, Iggy and Carmine.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

May 9, 2023 Highs and Lows

The Liberty Gazette

May 9, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Mike’s piece last week offered a beautiful reflection on family in a little slice of our trip to the Pacific Northwest. His ancestors migrated to Oregon in a covered wagon. He described his siblings and himself as “part of this western landscape of deserts, mountains, and oceans, drawn to wide-open spaces, both dependent on and independent of each other. Seasons come and go, and we weather the highs and lows and appreciate the beauty in our relationships.” I think that also describes Rex Barber, a fighter pilot whose hometown of Culver, Oregon, we visited. 

Barber came from a farming family–honest American blood–and majored in agricultural engineering before heading off to war in 1940. He was on a ship halfway to Hawaii when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. As our military regrouped, Lt. Barber joined a select team of pilots hand-picked by Major John Mitchell for special training. 490 days after Pearl Harbor, this elite squadron undertook the top secret "Operation Vengeance," the mission to kill Admiral Isoroku Yamanoto, Commander in Chief of the Combined Fleet of the Japanese Imperial Navy, the planner and leader of the attack. Yamamoto's “Betty” bomber was part of a flight of eight planes, two bombers and six escort fighters. Barber snuck up behind Yamamoto’s aircraft in his P-38 and riddled it with bullets, killing all onboard. His heroic efforts earned him the Navy Flying Cross. 

And that wasn’t all. He flew 138 combat missions and became a Flying Ace with five confirmed kills and three probables. He was also shot down over enemy territory. That’s when the Japanese were our enemies, and the Chinese were our friends. How times have changed. He hid out for two months and was finally rescued with the help of Chinese guerillas, although he had suffered serious injuries. 

He stayed in the Air Force after the war and was testing the new Lockheed P-80 “Shooting Star” jet fighter when he and a fellow pilot were invited to fly them over an area between Culver and Redmond. Well, more like over and under.

We stood at the southern precipice of Crooked River and imagined it was 1945, and here came Colonel Rex Barber flashing past us, the P-80’s wingspan within mere feet of the rocky canyon walls as he flew under the railway bridge first and then the road bridge (now a walking bridge). The other pilot had enough after the railway bridge and pulled his airplane up to go over the second one, narrowly missing it. 

After 21 years of service, two Silver Stars, the Purple Heart, and several other decorations in addition to the Navy Flying Cross, Barber came home to Culver to help his parents on the farm and raise his own family there. After a time, he opened an insurance agency, served as Justice of the Peace, and then became the mayor. All he had to say about his important secret mission was, “I was just doing my job.” 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

May 2, 2023 Traversing Spring

The Liberty Gazette

May 2, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Flying through the Great Basin, a desert that covers Nevada from the Sierras eastward into Utah and up to the Rocky Mountains, I am in awe of the beauty of these vast, lonely places. High-peaked and lower mountain ranges spread in a north-south pattern, the rocky masses thicker in some places than in others. Wide, flat valleys lie in-between. It’s an area full of mines – gold, silver, and copper. And other minerals, like lithium, barium, uranium. 

I’m escaping what’s been of late a heavy, stress-filled work schedule. We’ve been planning this for half a year now, and it feels good to be free, but we know that this time of year, foul weather can interfere. We left the Houston area just before strong storms rolled in, and we’re enroute to see family in Oregon and Washington.

Spring is kind of in the air, but there is still heavy snow at the highest elevations; some of the summits are not completely visible because they disappear into the cloud layers. Below, as we fly along a valley, we observe more mountains. They are over fifty miles distant and bathed in sunshine. High winds whip the crests, slowly chiseling the palisades. Snow showers obscure some of the smaller passes; the wider passes and the valleys remain clear except for a few light flurries we can easily skirt. That wind also hinders our progress because we are flying against it and are bounced in its turbulence across the ranges. 

This is my first opportunity to land at Yelland Field just west of Great Basin National Park in Ely, Nevada. I’ve wanted to land here for years. Our last stop was Winslow, Arizona, and in between there and here, we traversed Marble Canyon at the northeast end of the Grand Canyon and flew over Zion National Park. We span a final pass, and the Elyminator’s wheels emit the familiar chirp as rubber settles gently onto asphalt. 

A quick refueling and a moment for selfies in front of Ely Jet Center (the business is no relation that we know of, but the town was settled by a gold-miner ancestor). We power up again to be propelled further northwest. Elko, Nevada is the cowboy poetry capital of the world. There’s been an annual gathering here since 1985 for a “week-long coming-together of people rooted in the poetry, music, and arts of cowboy country.” Maybe we’ll check it out next January, but we are eager to continue to our first destination: Madras, Oregon, where we will reunite with my sister and one brother. The last time we were all together was seven years ago. Since then, our older brother has passed. 

Together, my siblings and I are part of this western landscape of deserts, mountains, and oceans. We are drawn to the wide-open spaces, both dependent on and independent of each other. Seasons come and go, and we weather the highs and lows and appreciate the beauty in our relationships.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

April 25, 2023 Mentors and Role Models

The Liberty Gazette

April 25, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Over the years, I have received exceptional guidance from mentors and role models. My first flight instructor, Dennis Reece, was a fireman and taught flying part-time. A pilot’s first instructor can make or break the student pilot’s experience. Even though he taught part-time, he worked with me all the way through my private pilot training. I was fortunate to have had only one flight instructor during that formative period.

Mr. Galloway was an instructor who taught night classes in meteorology at Mt. San Antonio College. His methods of teaching a difficult subject made it fun. Dedicated to his students, he let them know they were important. Once, when I missed a class session because I was sick, he called the next day to see how I was and to go over everything he had covered in class. When he passed away, over 400 of his former students traveled from all over the world to attend his memorial service. I wish every instructor I knew was like him. 

Bruce Riggins was a missionary pilot for African Inland Missions who trained me for my commercial pilot certificate. His training was more in-depth than required to pass the checkride. He taught me survival skills, such as how to escape from a narrow box canyon and how to avoid them in the first place.

Chuck Gifford was the former head of the Aviation Department at Cypress College. I was already set to take my checkride for my flight instructor certificate when I began attending classes and Chuck convinced me to wait on the checkride so I could compete on the school’s flying team. Getting my instructor certificate would promote me to professional status, preventing me from competing in college. This benefited me as I honed my flying skills, expanded my knowledge, and learned more about teamwork and mentoring. After completing my instructor checkride he asked me to be a team advisor to pass along what I’d learned.

Travis Flannery, a Designated Pilot Examiner and instructor worked with me for the first twenty hours of flight instructor training. His grandfather-like demeanor and patience belied his 30,000 hours of teaching people to fly airplanes. He took me up in a Cessna 150, taught me, as he called them, “walk-down” stalls. The wing buffets and drops in a stall and the pilot corrects this by properly using the rudder. It’s a kind of dance. He also had me performing very precise steep-banked eights-on-pylons in high winds, building both skills and confidence in handling an airplane in any situation.

My parents top my list of role models. They encouraged my brothers, my sister, and I to pursue our dreams. They couldn’t pay for our college or flight training, but they were always there. They celebrated the highs and waded through lows with each of us. They were always willing to stop and listen, no matter the time or place, they made time for us. They gave us themselves, the best kind of role model.  

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

April 18, 2023 Wing-Walking School

The Liberty Gazette

April 18, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

If you shake a can of soda pop and open it right away, all the exhilaration contained in the can will burst forth, because some things are just too exciting to suppress. That’s the feeling of accomplishment displayed in victorious leaps and hollers, “Wahoo!” that Mike and Marilyn Mason see nearly every day as they teach wing-walking at Mason Wing Walking Academy.

If you’re over 18, don’t weigh more than 230 pounds, and are physically able, you too can learn to climb out of a Stearman at 3,500 feet above the ground, pull up onto the wings, and strap yourself securely there to join in the graceful dance of vertical climb until you’re weightless (that’s zero-g), pivot, and descend, as your classic dance partner leads you in a hammerhead. 

The Masons have been teaching and sharing their passion for a couple of decades, training wing-walkers to become members of this elite club. Theirs is the only wing-walking school in the world.

They do not use parachutes because if they inadvertently deployed while wing-walking, there could be disastrous entanglements with the aircraft. They do use safety harnesses and safety cables, and they’ve never had anyone fall.

Besides gusto and agility, what does it take to do this? $850 for an introductory course or $1,250 for a full course. The difference is in how many deck levels on which you get to cruise. Successful completion of the introductory course will qualify you to walk the upper wing of the biplane. In the full course, you will learn how to maneuver on both upper and lower wings.

You’ll also receive an unedited video and still photos taken from four GoPro cameras attached to the airplane. Two cameras will be shooting video and two will be shooting stills every half-second.

The adventure happens over scenic Sequim, on the beautiful Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. Just imagine the earth seemingly spinning around you as your biplane gently rolls, pausing inverted for a moment of zero-g photo op. Due to the abundance of fresh air and the gentleness of the aerobatics, motion sickness won’t be a problem. You can do this in a day or make it a weekend if you can’t get enough of it. The first four or five hours you’ll be in ground school, practicing on climbing around the outside of the Stearman, attached to the safety harness and cables. When you have that down, it’s time to pirouette with your winged partner in the sky!

If you’re bored in your job, you might even consider wing-walking as a rewarding career. While there’s not a lot of demand for wing-walkers, you will impress friends and strangers at parties when you tell them what you do for a living. 

Is it for you? You’ll never know unless you try. Mike and Marilyn would enjoy showing you the ropes, er, cables, and celebrating with you like a shaked-up Coke bursting free on a beautiful summer day. See what they have to offer at masonwingwalking.com. 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com