I've fallen in love

my favorite part of oshkosh is just wandering through the planes. the homebuilts are works of art, most built in garages, basements and hangars.

and the vintage aircraft area is like a living museum.

sure, many of the plane are museum-quality pieces that i could never afford (some are truly priceless...there was a rare WWI era JN4 Jenny there that's probably worth $2M+). but most are just like old cars...valuable, but not prohibitively expensive. they're just old, classic airplanes.

so i walk around and watch and dream and think about all their individual histories.

saturday afternoon i stood 30 feet away and watched this story unfold.

in the process i fell in love.

you'll think i'm kidding (heck, i think i'm kidding). but in ways i'm not.

~~~

i was wandering among the vintage aircraft when i saw a girl and a parking volunteer pushing a piper cub into position for engine start. you can't taxi through the parking areas without a wingwalker, so the pilot (the girl) and the volunteer were ready to go.

they placed it in the middle of the aisle and the girl got ready to start the engine.

what you have to understand about this plane is that it has no electrical system. that means no electric starter. you start the engine by hand. that means hand-propping the engine. the concept is the same as popping the clutch on a standard transmission car.

(for reference see this article)

the process is to turn the engine through a few times (to ensure oil distribution, etc), then place a piston just before compression, turn on the mags, and flip the prop through.

so we have this 25 year old blonde girl by herself doing all this. she's got her duffel bag strapped in the front seat (you fly solo from the back seat), she's wearing flip-flops, and keeps brushing her chin-length hair behind her ears.

three old codgers have gathered around. you know the type...every hobby has them. airport bums. the back pew folks at a church.

they kept asking her "need help propping?"

"no, i've got it" she'd say with a smile.

their offers seemed just a tad condescending and yet endearing (but i'm a liberated guy, right...)

she gets offers of help several times, and cheerily responds the same every time "nope, i've got it." "nah, i can get it." "no, it's no problem."

so she fastens the door open on the right side (you can fly w/ the door open in these planes), adjusts the mags and the throttle, puts her butt up against the right wing strut and hand-props the plane from behind the prop (look at the little green & white plane in the article for a rough idea).

after a few attempts the engine kicks over and idles. she reaches in and adjusts the throttle. (at idle you can hold the plane in place by hand w/ no problem.)

she kicks off her flip-flops and sticks them beside the seat. "i like to fly barefoot, too" one of the codgers volunteers. she smiles. "where are you headed?"

"north dakota. headwinds of ten to fifteen...i need to get going."

so she climbs in, adjusts her belts and headset and everything else, and taxis toward the taxiway.

i watched her get in line to depart but then lost sight of her.

my kind of girl. hand props her vintage plane and looks damn cute doing it. it was a post-modern feminist anthem.

i should've said hi.

but i was having too much fun watching.

the end.

oh, yeah. i jotted down the n-number of her plane: NC38097.

it's registered to a corporation in minnesota.

i'm tempted to write a "to the pilot who flew away from oshkosh" letter to that address and just see what happens.

probably not. fantasy is always better than reality.