Dave
March 8th 06, 07:02 PM
Let me begin by saying that I'm one of those guys in Jay's recent
post...that stranger over there on "the wrong side of the fence".
I won't sue, OK? <G>
Over the past few years I've read posts by others about their
experiences in vintage aircraft and now it's my turn to share. My story
begins last Thursday; I was doing laundry and heard the unmistakable
sound of four big radials approaching. I was out the back door in a
flash shouting for my wife to come see, hurry... Maggie the dog joined
in the excitement thinking no doubt I'd spotted the biggest squirrel
ever. There overhead, rumbling sedately along at about 1000' was a
gorgeous B-17!
I live near McCollum field N. of Atlanta and thought the Collins guys
were in town. A quick google and a couple of phone calls and I learned
it was the Libery Belle http://www.libertyfoundation.org/ and they'd be
offering rides Saturday and Sunday with free tours inside her in the
late afternoon after the flights.
My father-in-law shares my love for all things aviation, especially
the vintage heavies, so I called him to let him know what was up
(literally). He's a vet, getting up in years, diabetic, and not able to
get around very easily. I figured it would be a fun thing for his
daughter, he and I to visit and see the plane, even if he couldn't go
through it. We planned to go on Sunday afternoon, and Fri. and Sat. via
email I joked with him about taking a flight, knowing he'd never go for
it at 395 a pop. Noway, never, nada.
Sunday morning we wasn't feeling well, and said he probably couldn't
go, so Wife and I drove down to McCollum and saw LB; took photos,talked
to some people, watched as those big ol Wrights fired up, watched with
envy as those rich folk crawled up into the hatch for a ride, and
watched (from the wrong side of the fence) as that beauty took off. Wow!
Well, that was fun, and off we went for lunch, and a hike at our fav.
State Park. http://gastateparks.org/info/redtop/ Shameless plug; I'm a
volunteer there.
We decided late afternoon to give F-I-L a call and try to talk him in
to going to see LB...it would be good for him to get out on a beautiful
day to see a B-17. To our surprise, he said yes, and we went to pick him
up. WELL. On our way from his house to the airport (5 min drive) he says
"Thanks for talking me into going, and thanks for talking me into taking
a ride." Insert here sound of jaws dropping. He'd gotten an insurance
check in the mail that day, and wanted to use it to take us all up.
!!!Holy Cow!!! Wife and I were speechless, and my pulse was way up,
lemee tell ya.
So it's like 4:30, and the ground tours were scheduled for 5
ish...were there seats available??? Hurry!! I dropped them off at the
gate, and went to park. Excitement! Anxiety! Were we to come so close to
the ride of a lifetime only to miss it by 3 seats or a few minutes? They
were at the sign-in table, and I got there in time to hear "Oh, THREE
seats? Great, that fills our last flight!"
Holy. Cow. Never. Noway. Nada.
We had an hour and a half of giggly anticipation because they were
behind schedule, but our turn was finally up. Our group was given an
informal briefing, with some history of the bird, questions and answers,
introductions, small talk, etc...all on "The Right Side of The Fence".
Liberty Belle taxied in, her wingtip sweeping over us in a tight left
turn as the pilot gunned the outboards. A blast of propwash; a great
overpowering roar; the smell of internal combustion. She came to a stop
with her stabilizer literally within my reach, so I did. I rested my
hand lightly on the cold, curved aluminum and felt the tremble of 4800
horses drop to idle.
I knew FIL would have trouble boarding. He's big, heavy, and has some
difficulty getting into and out of a car. We let the others go first,
then I leaned to his ear and yelled "You're gonna get up those steps and
into that plane even if you have to crawl". And that's exactly how it
went. (He's now bruised, scraped, and sore, but he doesn't care one
bit). Thank goodness for the 3 seats right by the hatch, with the waist
gunner window directly across. That's where he rode. We buckled in as we
taxied, and gave the "thumbs up" to the crew. The taxi took a while; our
ride had begun! Earplugs were handed out and I stuffed mine in my
pocket. Rumbling, engines throttling up and down and brake linings
singing notes as we maneuvered down the taxiway. A right turn and we
were perpendicular to the runway, the engines running up a bit. I
scanned out the waist window for approaching traffic wondering if we'd
make a turning running start. No traffic. The engines changed pitch and
the inboard brake sang us around the last turn. A pause. I took my
pulse, my wife grinned at me. I held my camera out and took a self
portrait of the 3 of us there at the brink. Wait....wait......
Here it is. 36 cylinders rose quickly and ever so smoothly to a
synchronized roar. The myriad and random squeaks, rattles and vibrations
merged into a finely tuned symphony; a deep silky howl of one note.
There was a jolt as the tail leapt upwards on the propwash, and Liberty
seemed to gather herself. She was *alive*. A moment passed, then a
slight lurch as the brakes were released. Acceleration. Power. My fist
clenched and rose as the tail came up; I can play conductor in the most
powerful score ever!
Go baby, GO!
I laughed; I may have even shouted in exuberance, but no one would have
heard. We rose quickly on those broad wings, and it seems less than 30
seconds after liftoff came the double thumbs-up from the crew. Unbuckle,
and have fun. For the next half-hour, this is our playground at 2000
feet. Just don't grab those cables running overhead...
I helped my FIL to a position where he could see out the waist
window...Man, he was really digging this! The sun was minutes from
setting, and as we headed north up 41 his view was perfect. Several
times during the flight I noticed him Conducting the Symphony, too. Our
route took us north to Lake Allatoona, where we turned east and flew the
length of the lake. There was absolutely no turbulence, and the aircraft
conveyed a feeling of stability and security. I reached my arm as far as
I could out the opening in the top behind the turret, and felt the
windblast there. One's arm out a car window at 75 MPH ain't nothin! I
sashayed the catwalk, and went up into the cockpit. Wow, is this really
happening? Fella taps me on the shoulder and motions for me to give him
my camera (you really don't talk in a B-17, you have to yell) and he
snaps a shot of me there. (I look like a deranged hijacker. "Fly me
anywhere you want, just don't land yet") Turns out this guy was a
co-pilot on a B-17 way back when; what an honor to share the flight with
him. Someone sticks his head up at my feet and shouts "seen the nose
yet?" grins and jerks his thumb thataway. I crawl in, all alone, and sit
in the bombardiers seat. The whole blue-green-purple world coming at me
in slow motion with the horizon cocked at a surreal angle. It's just too
amazing to be there.
Not for the first time, I reflect on what this machine was made for,
and how the men who perched in the same sort of seat I was in were
awestruck by the same beauty. And I try to imagine what it was like not
playing here, but working. The most serious, deadly work imaginable; the
Work of War. I try to imagine the fear and anxiety, and the Dedication
of Men who put all that aside when the time came for the task at hand...
I snap a couple of photos, and my Wife crawls in. We stand and share
the view and the moment, and exchange a quick kiss. Not quite the Mile
High Club, but it's plenty close enough. Pretty soon, I'm out of camera
flash card space, and watch the scenery pass below. I'm very familiar
with the region, and easily pick out places I know from 6' AGL. We are
nearing the airport, I go back and sit with my FIL. A minute later a
crewmember tells me we are going to do a low pass over the runway, turn,
and land. Now, we've already been in the air longer than the normal 30
minute flight. This may be because of the aforementioned Vet aboard,
along with the fact it's the last flight of the last day of the first
stop on Liberty Belle's tour. Who knows.
We drop down low, and roar down the runway, probably 100-200 up. Man o
man o man o MAN! Pulling up hard, a sweeping left turn past Kennesaw
Mtn. and a descending left turn into final. We're buckled in, and I spot
a crewmember looking back at us from the cockpit. I give him the double
thumbs-up and he returns in kind. The engines are throttled back and I
watch landmarks go by as I judge how far the runway is. Lower...Lower...
There's that warehouse, we're level with the roof...here's the runway...
I felt a very slight jolt, then nothing. I thought, "Wow, he certainly
grea..." SKROUWLT! LurCH!!! Well, OK. That's more believable. The tail
comes down, and there's a heckuva clatter as if the tailwheel is
flopping back and forth. I can feel the brakes pulsing as we slow down.
Without the engine roar and smooth vibration of takeoff, landing is
noisy in it's own way. A crewmember comes back as we taxi, and we
preplan our exit. We let everone else off, and with the help of the crew
and a couple of lineguys, FIL makes it back to terra firma in style.
It's dusk, and the front hatch is opened so the public can walk through.
There's only about 75 or so folks, surprisingly. I'm feel like John
Young after STS-1...I'm all pumped up, walking around the
plane...feeling the hot brakes, manifold heat, ETC and ETC. What an
awesome machine!
Things I'd do if ever I fly one again:
Mentally pre-plan the things to do/see better. I missed the top
turret. Completely forgot it was there.
Fresh charged batteries and film/card space for the camera.
Take a moment to find a clear spot in the plexi to shoot through.
Don't let the need to photograph detract from the experience
itself.
I'd like to thank:
The crew and members of The Liberty Belle Foundation. Very
professional and FUN. Thanks
This group, RAP. I've learned a lot here, and I enjoyed the flight
more because of it. Part of the Sunday's thrill is being able to post
it here for you guys. Thanks, and BTW, I've posted 2 batches of pix
over at ABPA subject "B-17G"
My Father in Law. Thanks for buying yourself a ride, mostly. You
deserve it. That C and I got to ride too is icing on the cake, and
even though I paid nothing, it was, as they say, "worth every penny."
Thanks
The Men that actually flew these planes in war. THANKS
~Dave
post...that stranger over there on "the wrong side of the fence".
I won't sue, OK? <G>
Over the past few years I've read posts by others about their
experiences in vintage aircraft and now it's my turn to share. My story
begins last Thursday; I was doing laundry and heard the unmistakable
sound of four big radials approaching. I was out the back door in a
flash shouting for my wife to come see, hurry... Maggie the dog joined
in the excitement thinking no doubt I'd spotted the biggest squirrel
ever. There overhead, rumbling sedately along at about 1000' was a
gorgeous B-17!
I live near McCollum field N. of Atlanta and thought the Collins guys
were in town. A quick google and a couple of phone calls and I learned
it was the Libery Belle http://www.libertyfoundation.org/ and they'd be
offering rides Saturday and Sunday with free tours inside her in the
late afternoon after the flights.
My father-in-law shares my love for all things aviation, especially
the vintage heavies, so I called him to let him know what was up
(literally). He's a vet, getting up in years, diabetic, and not able to
get around very easily. I figured it would be a fun thing for his
daughter, he and I to visit and see the plane, even if he couldn't go
through it. We planned to go on Sunday afternoon, and Fri. and Sat. via
email I joked with him about taking a flight, knowing he'd never go for
it at 395 a pop. Noway, never, nada.
Sunday morning we wasn't feeling well, and said he probably couldn't
go, so Wife and I drove down to McCollum and saw LB; took photos,talked
to some people, watched as those big ol Wrights fired up, watched with
envy as those rich folk crawled up into the hatch for a ride, and
watched (from the wrong side of the fence) as that beauty took off. Wow!
Well, that was fun, and off we went for lunch, and a hike at our fav.
State Park. http://gastateparks.org/info/redtop/ Shameless plug; I'm a
volunteer there.
We decided late afternoon to give F-I-L a call and try to talk him in
to going to see LB...it would be good for him to get out on a beautiful
day to see a B-17. To our surprise, he said yes, and we went to pick him
up. WELL. On our way from his house to the airport (5 min drive) he says
"Thanks for talking me into going, and thanks for talking me into taking
a ride." Insert here sound of jaws dropping. He'd gotten an insurance
check in the mail that day, and wanted to use it to take us all up.
!!!Holy Cow!!! Wife and I were speechless, and my pulse was way up,
lemee tell ya.
So it's like 4:30, and the ground tours were scheduled for 5
ish...were there seats available??? Hurry!! I dropped them off at the
gate, and went to park. Excitement! Anxiety! Were we to come so close to
the ride of a lifetime only to miss it by 3 seats or a few minutes? They
were at the sign-in table, and I got there in time to hear "Oh, THREE
seats? Great, that fills our last flight!"
Holy. Cow. Never. Noway. Nada.
We had an hour and a half of giggly anticipation because they were
behind schedule, but our turn was finally up. Our group was given an
informal briefing, with some history of the bird, questions and answers,
introductions, small talk, etc...all on "The Right Side of The Fence".
Liberty Belle taxied in, her wingtip sweeping over us in a tight left
turn as the pilot gunned the outboards. A blast of propwash; a great
overpowering roar; the smell of internal combustion. She came to a stop
with her stabilizer literally within my reach, so I did. I rested my
hand lightly on the cold, curved aluminum and felt the tremble of 4800
horses drop to idle.
I knew FIL would have trouble boarding. He's big, heavy, and has some
difficulty getting into and out of a car. We let the others go first,
then I leaned to his ear and yelled "You're gonna get up those steps and
into that plane even if you have to crawl". And that's exactly how it
went. (He's now bruised, scraped, and sore, but he doesn't care one
bit). Thank goodness for the 3 seats right by the hatch, with the waist
gunner window directly across. That's where he rode. We buckled in as we
taxied, and gave the "thumbs up" to the crew. The taxi took a while; our
ride had begun! Earplugs were handed out and I stuffed mine in my
pocket. Rumbling, engines throttling up and down and brake linings
singing notes as we maneuvered down the taxiway. A right turn and we
were perpendicular to the runway, the engines running up a bit. I
scanned out the waist window for approaching traffic wondering if we'd
make a turning running start. No traffic. The engines changed pitch and
the inboard brake sang us around the last turn. A pause. I took my
pulse, my wife grinned at me. I held my camera out and took a self
portrait of the 3 of us there at the brink. Wait....wait......
Here it is. 36 cylinders rose quickly and ever so smoothly to a
synchronized roar. The myriad and random squeaks, rattles and vibrations
merged into a finely tuned symphony; a deep silky howl of one note.
There was a jolt as the tail leapt upwards on the propwash, and Liberty
seemed to gather herself. She was *alive*. A moment passed, then a
slight lurch as the brakes were released. Acceleration. Power. My fist
clenched and rose as the tail came up; I can play conductor in the most
powerful score ever!
Go baby, GO!
I laughed; I may have even shouted in exuberance, but no one would have
heard. We rose quickly on those broad wings, and it seems less than 30
seconds after liftoff came the double thumbs-up from the crew. Unbuckle,
and have fun. For the next half-hour, this is our playground at 2000
feet. Just don't grab those cables running overhead...
I helped my FIL to a position where he could see out the waist
window...Man, he was really digging this! The sun was minutes from
setting, and as we headed north up 41 his view was perfect. Several
times during the flight I noticed him Conducting the Symphony, too. Our
route took us north to Lake Allatoona, where we turned east and flew the
length of the lake. There was absolutely no turbulence, and the aircraft
conveyed a feeling of stability and security. I reached my arm as far as
I could out the opening in the top behind the turret, and felt the
windblast there. One's arm out a car window at 75 MPH ain't nothin! I
sashayed the catwalk, and went up into the cockpit. Wow, is this really
happening? Fella taps me on the shoulder and motions for me to give him
my camera (you really don't talk in a B-17, you have to yell) and he
snaps a shot of me there. (I look like a deranged hijacker. "Fly me
anywhere you want, just don't land yet") Turns out this guy was a
co-pilot on a B-17 way back when; what an honor to share the flight with
him. Someone sticks his head up at my feet and shouts "seen the nose
yet?" grins and jerks his thumb thataway. I crawl in, all alone, and sit
in the bombardiers seat. The whole blue-green-purple world coming at me
in slow motion with the horizon cocked at a surreal angle. It's just too
amazing to be there.
Not for the first time, I reflect on what this machine was made for,
and how the men who perched in the same sort of seat I was in were
awestruck by the same beauty. And I try to imagine what it was like not
playing here, but working. The most serious, deadly work imaginable; the
Work of War. I try to imagine the fear and anxiety, and the Dedication
of Men who put all that aside when the time came for the task at hand...
I snap a couple of photos, and my Wife crawls in. We stand and share
the view and the moment, and exchange a quick kiss. Not quite the Mile
High Club, but it's plenty close enough. Pretty soon, I'm out of camera
flash card space, and watch the scenery pass below. I'm very familiar
with the region, and easily pick out places I know from 6' AGL. We are
nearing the airport, I go back and sit with my FIL. A minute later a
crewmember tells me we are going to do a low pass over the runway, turn,
and land. Now, we've already been in the air longer than the normal 30
minute flight. This may be because of the aforementioned Vet aboard,
along with the fact it's the last flight of the last day of the first
stop on Liberty Belle's tour. Who knows.
We drop down low, and roar down the runway, probably 100-200 up. Man o
man o man o MAN! Pulling up hard, a sweeping left turn past Kennesaw
Mtn. and a descending left turn into final. We're buckled in, and I spot
a crewmember looking back at us from the cockpit. I give him the double
thumbs-up and he returns in kind. The engines are throttled back and I
watch landmarks go by as I judge how far the runway is. Lower...Lower...
There's that warehouse, we're level with the roof...here's the runway...
I felt a very slight jolt, then nothing. I thought, "Wow, he certainly
grea..." SKROUWLT! LurCH!!! Well, OK. That's more believable. The tail
comes down, and there's a heckuva clatter as if the tailwheel is
flopping back and forth. I can feel the brakes pulsing as we slow down.
Without the engine roar and smooth vibration of takeoff, landing is
noisy in it's own way. A crewmember comes back as we taxi, and we
preplan our exit. We let everone else off, and with the help of the crew
and a couple of lineguys, FIL makes it back to terra firma in style.
It's dusk, and the front hatch is opened so the public can walk through.
There's only about 75 or so folks, surprisingly. I'm feel like John
Young after STS-1...I'm all pumped up, walking around the
plane...feeling the hot brakes, manifold heat, ETC and ETC. What an
awesome machine!
Things I'd do if ever I fly one again:
Mentally pre-plan the things to do/see better. I missed the top
turret. Completely forgot it was there.
Fresh charged batteries and film/card space for the camera.
Take a moment to find a clear spot in the plexi to shoot through.
Don't let the need to photograph detract from the experience
itself.
I'd like to thank:
The crew and members of The Liberty Belle Foundation. Very
professional and FUN. Thanks
This group, RAP. I've learned a lot here, and I enjoyed the flight
more because of it. Part of the Sunday's thrill is being able to post
it here for you guys. Thanks, and BTW, I've posted 2 batches of pix
over at ABPA subject "B-17G"
My Father in Law. Thanks for buying yourself a ride, mostly. You
deserve it. That C and I got to ride too is icing on the cake, and
even though I paid nothing, it was, as they say, "worth every penny."
Thanks
The Men that actually flew these planes in war. THANKS
~Dave