July 18, 2023 The Extraordinary Beautician Pilot

The Liberty Gazette

July 18, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Born in 1906, Jackie Cochran’s life before she learned to fly was spent largely in salons, helping women get all dolled up. At a party she was given advice on traveling the country to sell her own cosmetics: You should get your pilot’s license so you can cover more territory. 

Jackie left Saks Fifth Avenue Salon in New York City and built a cosmetics empire while blasting off into the world of aviation. Her accomplishments are too numerous to list in this space, but a few highlights include being the first woman to break the sound barrier (Chuck Yeager was a huge fan of hers), the first woman to take off and land on an aircraft carrier, and the first woman to make a blind landing. And she didn’t have anywhere near the sophisticated instruments we have today.

She flew stunts for a flying circus and somewhat stealthily flew airliners (allegedly the passengers didn’t know). She championed flying opportunities for women via Britain’s Air Transport Auxiliary, the U.S. Women Army Corps (eventually merged into WASP), and the Civil Air Patrol. She moved the game forward for women to become astronauts and even helped General Dwight D. Eisenhower win the presidential election. 

The guy who had given her that great advice at the party was Floyd Bostwick Odlum, one of the 10 wealthiest people in America at the time. He knew how to succeed in business and helped to finance her start-up, Wings to Beauty, because he admired her so much. Eventually, they married. 

Jackie was the only woman “allowed” to fly in the Bendix race in 1937 and won it the following year. In doing so, she opened the door for other women. Known as the Speed Queen, Jackie earned seven Harmon Trophies for aviation achievements. Then she joined the U.S. Air Force Reserves as a lieutenant colonel, and her mojo didn’t stop. She was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross with two oak leaf clusters as well as a long list of other medals from the U.S., UK, and France for her contributions to our side during WWII. After 22 years, she retired as a colonel and went on to advise Northrop as a test pilot for their T38 Talon supersonic jet trainer. Just in that one airplane alone, she set 73 speed, distance, and altitude records.

It is said that she still holds more records than any pilot living or dead, male or female. And to be clear, she said she never intended to set records designated as female. She wasn’t trying to be a man or copy men; she was just herself and loved to fly. In fact, most of her records are absolute. In other words, not as the first woman to set a particular record, but as the first person. Case in point: her 1,300 mph speed record in an F-104 on a 100-kilometer closed course. No one else will ever be first. The Experimental Aircraft Association called her “The Record Holder of all Record Holders.”

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July 11, 2023 The Beauty of a Sherman Tank

The Liberty Gazette

July 11, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Okay, gals, this one’s for us. Mike and I were discussing the recent news about a certain P51C Thunderbird, and while it’s worthy that we should tell you all about it eventually, there’s one part that surprised me. 

This P51, serial number 2925, was co-owned and flown by former Air Force Brigadier General and Academy Award winner Jimmy Stewart. The other pilot-owner was Joe De Bona, who flew it to win the Bendix Trophy Race in 1949. At the end of that year, Stewart sold the plane to Jackie Cochran “for $1.00 and other considerations.” Jackie’s aviation success was phenomenal. She once said, “To live without risk to me would be tantamount to death.” Chuck Yeager called her “a Sherman tank at full steam.” 

Jackie was the first female pilot in the U.S. Air Force and set world records in flying from the 1930’s to the 1960’s. I was familiar with her flying fame, but in researching this P51C, I learned that she was also a savvy business executive. 

Jackie’s life before flight was spent largely in salons, doing up hair and make-up. She had worked her way up to a New York salon with highfalutin clients. In a casual conversation at a party, she mentioned to a new acquaintance that she was tired of being chained to the salon with fussy customers and wanted to get out, create her own brand, and travel the country selling it. The man to whom she said this gave her this piece of advice: You’ll have to cover a lot of territory. You’d better get your pilot’s license. 

It was 1932. Jackie promptly started flight training and had her license in three weeks. She had discovered a new passion. Flying would not simply be a vehicle for her business ventures. She would experience every opportunity flying presented while building her line, Wings to Beauty. What she could do better than her competitors was represent her brand for women on the go, women with an active lifestyle who wanted to look good but needed the products to be easy to travel with and quick to use. 

Jackie’s company made all the typical cosmetics: blush, eye shadow, lipstick, and the like. Advertisements and powder tins are now valued collectors’ items you might be lucky enough to find on eBay. The one that impresses me the most is this stick of sorts. It’s a slender cylinder broken into compartments that notch together. In each compartment is one element of a make-up bag. Perfect for female pilots who fly three- or four-day trips. So small, it fits easily in an evening clutch or pocket. No need for a bulky make-up bag. Genius!

Jackie took Jimmy Stewart’s P51C to France to blast out two more world speed records, then sold the airplane back to him “for $1.00 and other considerations.” When she passed away in 1980, she held more speed, distance, and altitude records than any other pilot. I can’t wait to tell you more.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

July 4, 2023 How One Kid Got to School in 1919

The Liberty Gazette

July 4, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Happy Independence Day! Last week we spotted five boys running a lemonade stand on a corner in Kingwood. They weren’t inside glued to a screen. Kudos to the parents. Before you know it, school will be back in session. Some kids will walk or bike, some will ride a bus or go by car. But over a century ago, one little guy flew to school.

His dad, Seymour Cox, had several airplanes. He had hired Glenn Curtiss to build the Curtiss-Cox, which he named “Cactus Kitten,” and which would compete in air races around the world. Cox owned another Curtiss-built aircraft which they named “Texas Wildcat.” But he wasn’t the only aero-head of the family. His wife, Nellie, caught the bug too, as did their son, Seymour Jr. Imagine living in 1919 when flying was new!

The Cox family lived in Houston, and nine-year-old Seymour Jr. was going to boarding school in New York, which made the New York Herald as well as Flying Magazine, quoting him as saying, “Hurry up, Mother! The aeroplane’s all ready! Let’s get started quick for school!” The novelty of their story took up three full pages in an article titled, “Mother Brings Her Son Through Air To School in New York.” They crossed the country logging 18 hours flight time over ten days. Nellie loved that “Earth looks like a miniature map spread out beneath. Everything is beautiful from the air.”

She is often referred to as an aviatrix, but at least for that trip, she hired Harold Block, a WWI Army pilot, to fly her and Junior in their three-seat bi-wing Curtiss Oriole. It was one of two Orioles with which, along with a Curtiss “Jenny,” that same year Seymour Sr. would start Southern Aircraft Company, the first commercial airline to serve Houston. 

On the way to school, they took a diversion to circle over Cincinnati and 30,511 fans in the stadium during the first game of the World Series. The Reds won 9-1, but that was the year of the Chicago Black Sox, so who knows what would have happened had they not taken a bribe to throw the series. But in the Oriole that day, no one knew of the scandal, and their trip garnered much attention at every fuel stop. 

They ran into weather around Indianapolis, where they had to circle to avoid rain and fog before finally landing on the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. They left there as soon as the sky cleared.

Later, as they took off for their last leg, the clouds grew dark again. Lieutenant Block had descended, hoping to get beneath it, but suddenly there were trees just three feet below them. Block throttled up and climbed to 7,500 feet and returned to where they had just departed. They were weathered-in for three days in Binghamton. 

Nellie wasn’t fazed. She was all-in, saying, “Aeroplanes are the coming sport and coming convenience of the world. It’s the natural next step.” 

For Junior, what a ride to school! 

 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

June 27, 2023 Life Gift of Dinosaurs

The Liberty Gazette

June 27, 2023

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Way back in the Mesozoic era, before there were airplanes, the Mastodon and Wooly Mammoth used to meet their dinosaur friends at a big watering hole about 500 miles west of here, so we’re told. More than a week later, Alvar Nunez happened upon it, probably the first European to do so. While the dinos left record of their presence in the form of bones, Nunez documented his journey on paper in 1585. An Eastern Apache tribe met him at the big water and offered him food and clothing. He’d been shipwrecked and traveling through what we now call Texas. The Comanches didn’t exist yet, but sometime later when they formed out of the Shoshone tribe, they too discovered this great big spring near a river. For the next 200 years that the Comanche ruled the area without rival, the big spring favored by dinosaurs became a holy site and the heart of Comanche existence. 

A little more time passed, all the while the remains of Mammoth and friends becoming geology, and the area was perfect for laying rails for steam engines. Towns like Midland, Odessa, Abilene, and Big Spring sprung up. Then all this development caused the water table to drop. So today we might ask why Big Spring is named as it is, and we can imagine Sabre-toothed tigers and Paluxysaurus Jonesi (our state dinosaur!) seeing their reflection as they lap up cool spring water. And then we can consider the whole circle of life thing and how over the millennia oil has formed and been discovered in that same area. This brings us up to what may have been about the time of your grandparents or great-grandparents, and you may have heard tales over Christmas dinners of the excitement when oil was discovered in the Permian Basin. The prospect of opportunity brought some wily characters to West Texas. Fellows like Seymour Ernest Jacobson Cox, living at an exciting time in history – the birth of the aeroplane. 

It was 1919 when Cox caught wind of potential gushers in Big Spring. He acquired drilling leases on 200,000 acres on the McDowell ranch. When one of his wells struck, Cox planned a Texas-sized celebration. Investors came from around the world, just as the dinosaurs had, hoping to get a piece of the action, and Cox was the kind of guy who could get them hyped. “This black gold,” he proclaimed to the crowd, “is a messenger of a new day in Big Spring and West Texas.” And with that, according to the Big Spring Herald, a local cowboy appeared overhead “riding” Cox’s single-engine aeroplane, “perched on a saddle in front of the tail and blazing away with his six-shooter.”

We don’t know which airplane it was, but Cox had worked with Glenn Curtiss to build the Curtiss-Cox, which he named “Cactus Kitten,” and which would go on to win second place at the 1921 Pulitzer Trophy Air Race in Omaha, Nebraska, flown by Clarence B. Coombs, and made possible by the life gift of dinosaurs.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

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 

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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.

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