As a youth watching “American Graffiti”, I had a good idea of what my first car should be: it’ll be a hot rod, and I’ll be the coolest kid around. Shopping for my first car led me to a black primer 1965 Ford Falcon, no interior and exhaust dumping out under the seats. That old drag car that had a floor hole to fit any type of engine and transmission combo imaginable. My 16 year old self, raised around hot rods and car shows, declared this the perfect first car.
Mom ended that at first sight, so I consolation-purchased a sibling to the Ford Escort, the Tempo. A 4 cylinder 5-speed econobox with some styling, and at least 2 doors. I drove the that through high school before replacing with a Ford Ranger, again with a 4 cylinder and a 5 speed. Next was a Cougar and then a Falcon, and another Ranger and Focus. Ford became family, as either a daily driver or a hot rod, most with a manual transmission.
What complimented my fascination for cars was an obsession with airplanes. I would head to Palwaukee, (now Chicago Executive Airport) for the WWII bombers when they come through every year. Summer volunteering meant: cleaning oil off the underside of the wings of the B-17 and hanging up flyers at the local libraries to promote when the bombers were at the airport. My first taste of flying was with these vintage planes was in my suburban backyard.
I’d never ridden co-pilot until this last summer at the Cavalcade of Planes (Bolingbrook’s Clow International Airport). This amazing event gathers WWII and private planes, plus relevant flight stuff all in one space. The Illinois Aviation museum is onsite and promotes to people of every age. My main motivation to attend was seeing the Ford Tri Motor plus the several other warbirds, both flying and displayed.
The Tri Motor is owned by the EAA and it flies daily around the country giving rides, and doing static displays at different air shows or events. I figured this would be the best time to switch up from riding others to this. I’m also doing this for my departed father, who rode in a Tri Motor back in 1970. Getting a seat to fly in one of these planes is very simple: walk up to the table and find the next flight option. Oddly, the current flight was almost full; they were taking people for the next. With this being a new flight, there were no passengers, and I was offered a chance to ride in the co-pilots seat. Advice? ALWAYS ride in the co-pilots seat.
In some ways flying is much easier than driving a car, minus taking off and landing. To fly level and true, you only worry about the horizon, speed and altitude. Like floating, you point the aircraft in the chosen direction and keep it level. I flew like this for a few minutes before the pilot asked if I wanted to turn the plane back toward the airport. Fortunately the Tri Motor and Model A are similar: both are 100% manual. All the control surfaces on the Tri Motor are controlled by cables that connect directly to the wheel and pedals I mentioned earlier. To turn, it’s a mix of pedal and stick, in this case, lots of PUSH. Once I got found the movement and reading the heading we needed to go, the pilot assisted pointing back. Some further floating before landing. I took the water bottle back and he finished the flight, landing and taxiing back where we started.
It takes effort to write this experience despite these nostalgic paragraphs after handling machinery almost 100 years old. I saw myself working on my family’s 1928 Model A while up in the sky. Would my 1965 Ford Falcon make it a century with the right love and labor?
Having ridden and flown a 1928 Ford Tri Motor, I sat in the same seat with the same views as my father, so many years ago. As I landed, I'd like to think that one of us kept his place up above it all. Thanks Dad, until next time.
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