CHAPTER THREE 

The log books of an airplane are its recorded history because they were written at the time certain things happened instead of after the fact. While the intended purpose of a log book is to record the fact that required inspections and repairs had been accomplished in the proper manner, but like a ship's log, other bits and pieces of information often find their way onto the pages. The historical record of the Cub filled four books, so I decided to begin with the present and work backward in time. All the entries in the newest log book were by the man who had bought the ship as a basket case some seven years before for five hundred dollars then spent thousands of hours lovingly rebuilding it.

In chronological order after buying the ship, it told how each piece was carefully restored to original condition. It told when and where each part was obtained and how much it cost. Every single bolt, nut and screw was replaced during the rebuilding. It even told how many coats of paint where sprayed on to give it a finish superior to what it had when new. The owner wasn't a licensed airplane mechanic, however he had one inspect and sign off each step of his work. From the log book entries, one could tell that he was an artist, with both wrenches and words. He had also restored the engine to like-new condition before it was mounted on the ship. The last entry in the log book simply said, "Could not pass FAA Medical due to heart condition, will have to sell ship." The mechanic who supervised the rebuilding of the ship did the test flight when it was completed and then delivered it to me.

Working backward through the log books, I found that before the Cub was sold to the man who did the restoration, it had languished for some six years in a barn in Kansas after a farmer bought it with the thought of returning it to airworthy condition but just never got around to it. Prior to being hauled to Kansas by the farmer, it had served as an advertising sign at a used car lot in Phoenix. The last record of the Cub having been flown was about fifteen years before when it was owned by a man who used it to spot fish for commercial fishermen in Oregon. It was during that period of time that the additional fuel tank was installed in the left wing to extend its duration. At one time, floats had been installed and it was flown as a seaplane in the Seattle area.

Reading the history of the ship was like reading a good novel, something that one once started, was difficult to put down. When I finally reached the original log book which came with the ship when Piper sold it, I noticed that it began its long life in a GI Flight Training School in Lubbock, Texas. There were several entries pertaining to repairing wingtips after students had ground looped it, propellers replaced after having been put up on the nose by unwise application of the brakes and a complete recover after being pounded by a West Texas hail storm.

I flipped to the front of the book and the first entry was dated August 10, 1946 by the production test pilot who flew it for twenty minutes and made a notation that the tires needed air. The next entry was for 29 hours for the ferry flight from Lock Haven to Lubbock, Texas. I couldn't believe my eyes, but the signature on that entry was mine! I had made the original delivery flight of the ship. In fact, in three days it would be the 40th anniversary of the date that I departed the factory in Lock Haven, bound for Lubbock.

I was seventeen years old at the time and was doing everything that I could in order to build up the required 200 hours of flying time so I could apply for my commercial pilot's license as soon as I became eligible on my eighteenth birthday. I remembered that I had been so desperate for flying time that I even offered to pay for my own transportation to the Piper factory if Wes Tex Aircraft would pay for the fuel and allow me deliver new ships to them.

I still remember that epic flight. The summer of 1946 was an especially rainy one with almost constant low clouds and thunderstorms along the route. I had to sit and wait for flyable weather so many times that it took me fifteen days to fly from Pennsylvania to Texas. That was also the year that I began my senior year in high school and missed the first four days due to the delays in getting home.

Here was my chance for a trip into nostalgia, a return to those salad days of my youth when my short attention span alternated between girls and airplanes. While I would not be flying the Cub back to its home in Lock Haven, at least I would be headed in the proper direction. Even though stiff knees would begin to protest being in the same position for too long a period of time and my lower back would remind me that my 60th birthday was only a couple years down the road, I would fly with the door to my youth open and let the air blow through my graying hair.

Back in 1946, flying charts sold for fifty cents each and enough of them to cover the area from Pennsylvania to Texas would set a person back four or five dollars. To a high school student in those days, that was a considerable amount of money but fortunately, there was an alternative which cost nothing. Texaco was the only company which refined aviation gasoline in those days and to advertise that fact, the location of every airport in the nation was shown on their road maps. Not only could a pilot locate an airport easily on a road map, the need to carry a ruler was eliminated because they also listed the mileage between towns. About the only pilots who actually bought flying maps were those who had enough money to afford to wear genuine Ray Ban sunglasses own a real pilot's chronograph with four buttons on it. In those days, I had neither. I had used Texaco road maps when I flew the Cub from Lock Haven to Lubbock, so I would use them on this trip.

The local Texaco distributor agreed to furnish me with road maps for Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa and Wisconsin and to my surprise, they still indicated the location of airports at many of the smaller towns. It's a nice touch and helps fill up space, especially across Kansas where there isn't much else to show. After picking up the maps, I dropped by the bank to draw some money for the trip. I cashed a check for $500 which would cover both the expenses of getting the ship there as well as the cost of an airline ticket back. The bank teller counted out twenty-five crisp new twenty dollar bills and while I was there, I also picked up a ten dollar roll of quarters. Telephones, vending machines and just about every other coin operated machine requires or will accept quarters. Having a good supply of quarters in your pocket on a ferry flight is not only a good idea, but often a necessity.

A high pressure area was building over the plains states, forecasting fair weather and light winds. It would be ideal flying weather for several days. For ferry flights, I took along only the basic clothing which would be needed for the three or four days which I would be away from home. Everything could be stuffed inside a small backpack which was durable, easy to carry and did not need to be checked when I boarded an airliner. There is an old saying that there are only two kinds of luggage on an airliner, carry-on and lost.

I had intended to take along nothing which I would not have used in 1946 but since Oshkosh has a control tower and I might need to get into some other controlled airport, I decided to fudge a bit and take my portable, two-way aircraft radio. Flying into a controlled airport without a radio can be done but it requires landing at some other airport and calling the tower on the phone at least an hour ahead of your arrival to tell them what time and from which direction you will be approaching. If they happen to be in an agreeable mood that day, they will approve your request and give you a green light when you arrive.

Thanks to transistors and synthesized circuits, a battery- operated radio which is no larger than the average cordless telephone will cover all 720 aviation frequencies. While the six inch, "Rubber Ducky" antenna limits its range to about twenty miles, it is more than adequate to get into and out of airports. I slipped the radio into the backpack along with my clothing and shaving kit. Road maps don't list such information, so I jotted down the ATIS, approach and tower frequencies for Omaha, Des Moines and Oshkosh on the borders of the maps for those states.

Most pilots would say that my method of planning cross country flights is far too casual, but that's the way that I've done it for the past forty years. I simply lay a ruler from where I am to where I'm going to establish the basic direction. On this flight, it will be a compass heading of about 60 degrees. This also means that I will be crossing east-west lines at about a 30 degree angle to the left. Country roads and property lines run square with the world just about everywhere except down around Odessa, Texas where east is based on the point where the sun rises above the horizon on June 21st, the longest day of the year. It has something to do with Spanish land grants.

The distance from Black Forest to Oshkosh is a tad over 900 miles which at 60 miles an hour, is two very long flying days or three shorter ones. I'll plan for two long days and see how it works out as I go along. McCook, Nebraska is about half way to Omaha and will make a good place to stop for fuel and stretch my legs. If I can make it all the way to Omaha before dark, I'll be able to spend the night with friends. I called John to let him know that unless the weather changed, I would depart the following morning.

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