Years ago I was up in a glider airplane, doing aerobatics. Great fun, but one day I'd want to do it in a motorized aircraft, and being a vintage vehicle guy, a WW2 era biplane would be ideal. Surfing on The Internets for this didn't work much, but fortunately a Nimbus friend from back home
(thanks Bent) who's also flying old stuff, forwards info on one such place, that arranges flights. It not only fits my requirements perfectly, but is also close to Seal Beach, where I reside these days.
I show up at the airport in Compton before my pilot arrives, and the locals are onto the MZ right away, pointing, laughing and asking questions. Especially the little Czechoslovakian trailer seems popular.
Turns out the place has a museum too, with an emphasis on African-Americans in aviation, called '
Tomorrow's Aeronautical Museum'. I knew a bit about it beforehand, having read about the Tuskegee Airmen, the WW2 pilots who literally were fighting on two fronts: First to even be accepted as military pilots, and second to go fight the Nazis. I recall that some of the ever-dwindling group of them were present at Obama's first inauguration, and one of them chuckled; "Never thought I was going to see the day". Well, they were trailblazers, and luckily he got to see the day: If anyone ever deserved it, it would be him.
Bishop L.J. Guillory, 'Ombudsman general & Ombudsman International', no less, poses on the MZ in front of the museum's kitchen; an old converted DC-3 (or C-47).
Pilot Mike Hanson shows up shortly after. He looks like a friendly, non-manic version of actor Gary Busey. While I'm paying the $659 for my hour of fun (thanks, Morten), Mike tells about the airport, and the volunteer program he's part of. Those of you who have seen the movie 'Straight Outta Compton' will know that the town is poor, and that the kids there really need that somebody will spend some time and effort on them. This is one of the ways of doing it, and what the money for the flight goes to.
We then drive to the hangar where a Boeing Stearman Kaydet stand in all its glory. This one was built in 1943, was used primarily for training military pilots, and is painted in US Navy colours. Mike started flying at age 39, took over the plane when the previous owner died, but eventually the cost of using it prompted him to start flying with paying customers. Of which I'm no. 2,800. In due course ownership was transferred again to the organisation 'Tomorrow's Aeronautical Museum', that arranges various activities for Compton's needy kids. And as mentioned above, Mike is raising money by taking the likes of me aloft.
The Stearman is rolled outside, and after a quick rundown of the procedures of my flight, I get strapped into the front seat. Mike then primes the engine, turns the propeller a few times to make sure all the pistons work in their cylinders (oil can seep down in the lower ones), and fires up the large 7-cylinder radial. The plane is a 'taildragger' with a tail wheel, so Mike can't see straight ahead when taxiing, but snakes it down to the other end of the runway in order to take off against the wind. I notice lots of interesting old planes along the way, some homebuilt ones, all too many in derelict shape. It wouldn't be hard to spend a day or two here, because just like in people's garages, there are all sort of exciting things going on in the airport's many hangars. More about that in the next entry.
Up go the revs, in my earphones I hear Mike's call sign "biplane departing straight outta Compton", the plane speeds forwards, and we're airborne in no time. While we're climbing, the sprawl of Los Angeles unfolds itself beneath us. In between checking the instruments and taking in the sights, I try to imagine myself back to the time, when the plane was new and used for training pilots. The town must have looked so different back then, without the storm drains (think 'Terminator 2'), it's vast freeway system and the millions of cars.
Mike in the rear seat, still with his hands on the controls. Later he'd hold up both his hands, indicating it was my turn to fly the old bird.
It my first video ever, so apologies for the occasional fingers in front of the lens.
Reaching the coast we turn south and fly low and close to the beach and the cliffs. I could have taken more pictures, but am too occupied with enjoying the scenery. Then Mike lowers the altitude even more, and suddenly we're but a few meters over The Pacific. Up high only the airspeed indicator needle pointing at 100 mph gives you a clue of how fast we fly, but here the speed is very real. I love it, think back on the last flight scene in '2001'. But as he said earlier; "Some priorities; maneuvers are first legal, safe, and then fun".
Eventually we climb back up for a safe altitude to do aerobatics. I hold onto the metal frame of the Stearman, Mike pulls back the stick and executes a loop. And then another. Next comes a 'hammerhead turn', where he points the nose straight up, then straight down toward the ocean, repeats it a few times, sees on my ear-to-ear grin in the rearview mirror that I'm ready for more, and does a snap-roll. Holy crap, I didn't see that one coming! Getting heavy when pulling G's in a loop was expected, while suddenly having my stomach up between my ears wasn't. At this point I know that not having breakfast this morning was one of my best decisions in a long, long time.
There's a short pause, and then he decides to show me a spin. Holy double-plus crap again! We're moving in four directions at the same time, the plane goes sideways, around, vertically down and straight again in seconds, and I'm too surprised by the sensory overload to ask him to do it some more times.
Instead at my previous request we return to ocean level, fly back up the coast for a bit, and then turn southwards again. Mike shows how the controls work and now I'm on. It seems remarkably easy. Of course a plane of this type is very forgiving, the weather conditions are perfect, and I have done my homework - reading everything I could about flying since I was 7 years old. And of course getting a feel for a plane is one thing, while flying it safely is quite another. "Flying the Stearman is a dream, but without proper training landing her can be a nighmare", Mike says. Methinks another 50 to 100 hours of flight time would undoubtedly get me there.
Over Long Beach Mike is at the control, pointing out various sights, like WW2 ships and the ocean liner Queen Mary. Once again he holds up his hands, and tells me over the intercom to just follow the river and keep us at over 1000 feet. Hmm, not so easy this time, but staggering the plane much the same way a drunk staggers down the street, like the drunk I more or less manage to stay on course. Then the airport appears to our lower left, Mike banks the plane sharply over and in no time we're on the ground again.
