80 degrees in Iowa? In April? If this is "global warming" I'm all for it.
And if it's just an early spring, well, all the better!

When we departed KIOW today, shortly after noon, the sun was warm, the winds
light, and my 14-year-old son was in the right seat. Mary, having worked 25
of the last 48 hours (two weddings at the inn -- on the same weekend!) was
more than willing to snooze in the back seat while Joey learned a bit more
about being a pilot.

Destination today? Hampton, Iowa -- home of the Hampton Aviation
Association, and the most beautiful Gullwing Stinson to ever grace the
skies, owned by our friend Paul Sensor. This beautiful 1936 aircraft,
fully restored by Paul in 2000, was the model for the 2002 Hallmark Aviation
Christmas ornament, which was reproduced with incredible accuracy, right
down to the "NC" number.

One catch: Paul didn't know we were coming. In fact, *we* didn't know we
were coming until 10 minutes before departure, thanks to our incredibly
hectic weekend and a decided lack of planning. Still, we figured if no one
was at the airport, we'd simply proceed on to Fort Dodge -- home of a Flight
Service station, and another Iowa airport that we had never visited.

Of course, we were in search of food -- when aren't we? -- and truthfully
Hampton didn't look too promising, with AOPA's directory clearly stating
"FBO closed Sundays." But, with enough fuel aboard to fly to Texas
non-stop, we figured we'd take our chances.

After climbing to 5500 feet, Joey quickly learned that flying in summertime
haze was a LOT different than flying in the winter. With ever growing
frustration he discovered that without a well-defined horizon he could hold
heading or altitude -- but usually not both at the same time. My amusement
grew as he quickly learned that maybe flying wasn't the "slam-dunk" he
thought it was, but Mary -- sitting behind the center of gravity -- soon put
an end to my fun by protesting his too-active bank and pitch corrections...

Approaching the pattern Joey gladly relinquished the controls, perhaps a bit
wiser, and I landed uneventfully. As feared, however, this pristine airport
was deserted, but the FBO was unlocked, so we went inside to look around.

Everything in the place was neat as a pin, and appeared to be brand new.
The concrete was smooth as a pool table, with nary a skid mark or a stone
out of place. Clearly this was an airport that was well-loved and
thoughtfully maintained, so we were puzzled by its unused condition on such
a perfect flying day.

My eyes fell on a phone book laying on the desk, and I figured "what could
it hurt?" to give Paul a jingle. Only last month he had led his group of
aviation merry-makers on a junket to Iowa City, where the guys and gals had
rented the entire hotel for a wonderful weekend of flying, hanger lying, and
shopping. During his time with us we had hit it off pretty well, and Paul
had invited us to visit "any time" -- so why not test the waters?

Luckily, he had just stopped at home for lunch, after spending the morning
bringing the Stinson out of "winter mothballs." He immediately offered to
come get us, and within minutes he and a friend were pulling up to meet us.
Outgoing and warm as always, Paul -- knowing we were hungry -- had taken the
liberty of calling his favorite local restaurant to make sure that they
would stay open long enough for us to eat there! (In small-town Iowa, many
businesses are still closed on Sundays, and the ones that *are* open usually
close early.)

He then drove us to "Coffee & Company" -- a small, intimate
restaurant/coffee shop (owned by a guy whose last name really is "Coffee")
with fantastic food -- and left us to our devices while he went back to work
on the Stinson. Before he left, he asked our waitress to CALL HIM on his
cell phone when it looked like we were finishing up, so he could be back to
fetch us before we were done chewing! It just doesn't get much better than
that, and we enjoyed a terrific lunch, complete with home-made potato/bacon
soup and a slice of home-made cheesecake for dessert...

True to his word, Paul was there to pick us up right as the cashier finished
running our card -- and he happily whisked us back to his hangar for a
first-hand tour of his incredible plane.

One of only three left flying (there were four until last week, when one was
retired to the Delta Airlines museum), this incredible Stinson has been
lovingly restored to better-than-new condition by Paul and a dedicated band
of friends and mechanics. He showed us his "restoration book", a
picture-diary which outlined in great detail just how far he had taken his
bird in a very few short years.

While never a basket case -- he flew it for four years before restoring
it -- the Gullwing had been extensively modified over the years. Details
like a wrong engine cowling, the wrong wheel pants, and an inaccurate
interior all had to be replaced and fabricated from scratch -- and you don't
go out and get this stuff from "Airtex"! The end result is so stunning
that, well, Hallmark made a Christmas ornament out of it! You really just
have to see it to appreciate it.

Paul then directed Mary, me and the kids to climb up and in his surprisingly
huge work of art. (Never was I so paranoid about having children!) Just
getting in took some lessons, since -- even though there is a ladder built
into the fuselage for entry -- it's not entirely obvious where to put your
hands and feet.

Once inside we were bathed in fresh leather -- a whole *bunch* of cows gave
there all for THIS bird. The seat was deeply comfortable, although smaller
than modern seats (people apparently weren't as broad-butted during the
Depression as they are today), and we were surprised to be staring up at the
sky! In fact, the pilot's position is closer to that of the Apollo
astronauts than it is to that of the Space Shuttle pilots -- a Stinson
really sits back on its haunches! Paul stated that he had seen "an entire
T-28 hide behind that nose" more than once, so he must constantly S-turn
while taxiing to avoid catastrophe.

He assured me, however, that once the nose came up visibility was just fine.

He then regaled us with tales of the restoration process, and how he had
found expert "faux wood painters" down south to re-create the panel
accurately. (In the 1930s they didn't have veneer woods yet, so they painted
the panels to look like wood.) Even this little detail has been perfectly
re-created, and the end result is a perfect time machine. It was easy to
close my eyes and imagine famed air racer Roscoe Turner piloting this
bird -- as he had, in fact, done. (He owned it for a time, during which he
used it in a short-lived airline that he opened -- and closed -- within a
few short months, after running into trouble with the CAA for running an
illegal airline!)

Too soon it was time to go. I wanted to wait until they were ready for
another ground run, but the kids were getting antsy and the sky was
beckoning. After bidding our friends farewell, and inviting them to a
return trip to Iowa City soon, we launched back into that warm, milky sky.

Mary flew us home, while I gazed out the window, pondering how lucky we were
to be alive, how fabulous everyone in the tight-knit world of aviation can
be, and how fortunate we were to be enjoying this wondrous thing we call
flight...
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"