Weather or Not

A local farmer was here a few days ago to cut our hay. While on his way in he stopped to talk. That’s when the subject of the forecast came up. He was about to cut hay but the forecast for the next day was predicting rain and according to him his wife would not be happy if she knew he was doing so.

If you’ve never been involved with the hay cutting process, from the time you cut it to the time you bale it, you want it to be drying. Rain is not good. Yet, when our friendly local farmer finished his prediction about what his wife would do to him, he said, “Oh well, they always say it’s going to rain”. Three days later he bailed it having had no trace of rain.

This conversation led to the discussion about productivity and accurate weather forecasts. The farmer’s implication was that if we waited for a perfect forecast, we’d never get anything done. Therefore, I wonder, is it possible modern weather prediction actually decreases productivity? Here’s how; people see a chance rain in the forecast then they put off work that could be done, or at least partially done, on a day with a better forecast? I think there’s a pretty good chance this is much more prevalent that we know.

So how does this relate to aviation?

I have long lamented all the reasons people have today for not flying. The one that gets me more than any is the weather. I may be old fashioned but I remember when pilots were taught the difference between a cirrus cloud and a tornado. Remember when pilots could distinguish hail from dandelion seeds floating through the air of a warm spring day? What happened to our aviators?

I’ll tell you what I think happened. Our pilot group fell hook, line, and sinker for the notion of safety and planning. Yeah, I said it; safety and planning is killing aviation and our alphabet groups aren’t helping. In fact, they are the pushers who move this stuff into the shady neighborhoods of aviation where spineless pilots wear helmets when they bike and eagerly inject this garbage into their bloodstream for a quick excuse not to fly.

Delivered directly to the nervous system via light waves, iPads, smart phones, and even TVs are killing aviation with the notion they are making it easier. Don’t believe me? How many people do you think would fly from the East Coast to the West Coast without a GPS? Very few today would yet there was a time when even kids did it. Yep, flying is expensive yet nobody can live without their pricey gadgets that could easily be replaced with fifteen dollar charts.

I know what you’re thinking; live weather radar helps. And you know what, you’d be right if people knew how to read it and use it to fly instead of not to. I’ll give you a good example.

See the red dot in the middle of this radar picture above? The pin is on Louisville. Northeast of there you will see a vertical band of two shades of green surrounded by a thin blue outline. Immediately to the right of that, where the Ohio River runs North/South, is where Lee Bottom is located. What kind of weather do you think that is?

The next photo was taken immediately after the radar screen shot. It is an actual image of what that weather radar screen shot looked like from the ground. As you can see, or I hope you can, the green blob from the radar is actually an area best described as a high altitude area of high humidity. This was the same day the farmer cut his hay and it never rained.

If you had been east of Lee Bottom wanting to go west, would you have done so?

Ultimately, today’s weather technology is so good it's quite possibly too good. For as long as most of us can remember, rain or weather was displayed as green. Now though green, and several shades of it, most often represent a level of moisture that at one time could not be detected by weather devices. Back then pilots looked to the sky, observed the color, felt the moisture, read the thermometer, and went flying. Today, they turn on some gadget, see green, and stay home.

What do these people do with their spare time? They read books about the freedom, romanticism, and daring of flight.

Another WACO Takes to the Air

Our friends up at Poplar Grove are always up to something fun. This video is a window into some of it.  The caption, "Sean Soare restores, repairs and flies his 1937 Waco YKS-7 at the Poplar Grove Airport (C77) with the first flight on the 75th birthday of the Waco!" says it all.  If you have fourteen minutes to spare, sit back and watch this version of what goes into such a project.

The moral of this video:  Celebrate every step of the process and there will always be a reason to keep working.

Congratulations to Sean and the team.

Tragedy at Toowoomba

Those damn cameras; always there to catch the most painful moments.  Here's to a speedy recovery.

Shoot to Kill Authorized Over Chicago?

Why would they risk asking a pilot to shoot down one of his own?  Drone Operators are experienced with such things.  Just like camera bravery, when looking through a lens or at a screen it doesn't seem as real.

News has been swirling wildly about the upcoming NATO Summit in Chicago and the accompanying “No Fly Zone”. What has everyone all worked up?  The word, or implied wording, “shoot to kill”. That may come as a shock to some of you but others have asked “Is this really any different than the usual TFR?”

Here’s what I have found. This link for a Standard TFR over Chicago is for things like sporting events; a typical TFR. Read it and you will not see any wording of shoot to kill or use of force. But, if you look at this link to the “TFR” over Chicago for the NATO Summit, you will clearly see the words “deadly force against the airborne aircraft” on the first page.

It seems it really is different from a Standard TFR and it also does seem to include the authorization to "shoot and kill" any stray airplanes.  What I can't seem to find is if there is anything similar for vehicles or people on the ground.  Maybe someone out there can lead me to it.

Whatever the case, don't be flying around Chicago during the summit held May 19-21, 2012. 

Lyme Disease - Could You Get It?

This is a little off topic but we wanted to pass it along to our friends. Lyme Disease is real and isn’t rare despite what your doctor may tell you. How do we know? Our dog Bair, Ginger, and our friend Larry Hagen have all recently been diagnosed with it. We mention Bair because were it not for him being diagnosed with it first, Ginger’s doctor indicated that she would have initially run other tests.

Why are many doctors hesitant to give the blood test to patients? Well, it’s hard to say but the number one reason we’ve heard is that most doctors don’t think it is common or even something people in their area get. Unfortunately, that just isn’t the case.  Without question, it is in our area and many other areas of the US and also other countries. Yet, Lyme disease symptoms do resemble many other disease symptoms and therefore diagnosing Lyme Disease may seem to a doctor to be a shot in the dark.

Like I said, Lyme Disease symptoms are often similar to other health issues. If a patient doesn’t remember being bitten, as is usually the case, a doctor will most likely feel the need to run heart tests, joint scans, and everything else because other things are more common and could potentially be more serious in the short term. In the long term though, Lyme Disease is something you don’t want to live with undiagnosed. If you don’t catch it early, it can be severely debilitating.

There are several things you should know about Lyme Disease. First, it is the tiny Deer Tick that carries and transmits the disease. They are usually reddish in color and they are about the size of a head of a large pin. They have to be attached to your skin for at least 24 hrs to transmit the disease but watch the area, and yourself, for symptoms of the disease should you remove one you believe has been on you less than 24 hrs. Many places say 70-80% of people with Lyme Disease get the bulls-eye rash but other more recent studies indicate as few as 30% get it. Therefore, don’t assume you don’t have it if you do not get the rash. Ginger did not get a rash. This is why it is important to look for symptoms. Here’s a site that covers them all. It also gives you a checklist. If you circle 20 or more symptoms you need to be tested.

The prescribed way to kill the bacteria that causes Lyme Disease is with antibiotics. The sooner you get the antibiotics into your system, the better your chances of getting rid of the disease without any long term health problems. But there is a problem with antibiotics. For so long, antibiotics were prescribed for so many things and so often that it began to cause a problem of super bacteria. In turn, there has been a huge movement to limit the use of antibiotics. Therefore, it now seems the pendulum has often swung too far the other way to the point doctors are hesitant to prescribe them when they would help. This leaves many physicians extra-cautious about diagnosing Lyme Disease.

If you are a doctor, feel free to add your thoughts on this subject. We are going only from what we have learned and the stories of others who have told us of their experience with this disease. Ginger was fortunate in that she had a great doctor who actively listened and obviously wanted to make sure she got the correct diagnosis. Thanks Dr. Jett.

Oh, I almost forgot, there is something very important for you to know. Studies have shown that taking 200mg of Doxycycline after a severe tick bite works like a morning after pill and keeps you from getting the disease. The problem is that you don’t want to take one of these pills every time you get a tick bite. You want to know or feel very sure the tick has been in your skin for over 24 hours. Unfortunately, over 50% of people who get Lyme Disease never knew they were bitten because the ticks are so small. Ginger was lucky because she knew of the bite. When she began to get the symptoms, she had a doctor that listened to her story and symptoms and made the decision to test for Lyme immediately. That made a huge difference.

Today, Ginger is feeling much better. Her symptoms came on during the tornado clean up and so she thought she was just worn out from all that was going on. Then she began to sleep all day and stated that she felt like she was in a fog. We remembered the bite and she went to the doctor. The diagnosis came within six weeks of the bite and thanks to that it appears she will come out the other side with no lasting issues.  Even with that though, it often takes up to six months for someone like her to get over all the symptoms.

Mirror Swift

Ginger and I were outside with the dogs yesterday when a beautiful Swift flew over, dropped the gear, and proceeded to land.  We had seen it working the pattern here at the field before but never knew who it belonged to.  This time they taxied over and stopped.

My words to Ginger went something like this, "Holy cow!  Woooo, look at that polish job.  Who in the world would take that on?"  Then out stepped our friend Dan Gidzinski.  If you knew him, at this point it would all make sense.  Dan is a perfectionist and he produces some of the finest work on aircraft I've ever seen.  Yet, it seems this wasn't all his doing.

Dan bought the plane after it had sat for a while.  One of the last things it had done before being parked was win a polish award at the annual Swift Fly-In.  The previous owner did an amazing job and Dan was glad to take over.  His reason?  While he worked on perfecting and finishing the Swift project he has in his hangar, he really needed something to fly.  This one fit his standards and he now owns the job of keeping the polish up.

What's involved in a job like that?  Well, I won't go into detail but I can tell you that he was able to tell us how each different kind of rag works at each step in the process.  He even knew of several special manufacture polishing towels and he clearly had a favorite.  Like I said, Wow!

When you have a job like that, it pays to have the attention to detail Dan does.  If you live in the area and you see a chrome bullet cross over your house, it's not a UFO; it's likely Dan out enjoying the sunset.

Ernie Was Right

We’ve all had them right? Those moments when fate and fortune found common ground. Our minds collect them; life’s baseball cards.

Digging through the dusty shoe box of history, one of my favorites comes to mind. Like many great cards it represents the beginning of a career. Its stats convey an image of who that person is and who they would become, the photo captures their youth, and the card itself smells like used oil and exhaust. Well, actually that last part is due to creative license. But, if there were baseball cards for pilots lost in time, I’m sure that’s what they would smell like.

Having said my goodbyes to the last ride of the morning, my mind drifted to Chici’s. Across the road from the airport was the best Cuban sandwich in town. I could almost taste the mustard when someone said “A FED is in there and he wants to talk to you”.

Most people tend to flip out when A FED shows up. Myself, I’m the opposite. Yeah sure, like everyone else I run the mental checklist to make sure I have everything I’m supposed to have but other than that, I really couldn’t care less. FEDs are, after all, just normal people with a penchant for polyester and a hard-on for paperwork. Humor them, make them feel like real people, act impressed with their knowledge of regulation minutia, and pretend that their attempts to fit in are working and they’ll pretty much always leave you alone. What most people seem to forget is that back at their office, the egg laying queen (you saw Aliens right?) is to them, what they are to us. Help a FED make the next level of incompetence happy and your life will be better for it. Got it? FEDs are people too.

Therefore, like so many times before, I set out to find THE FED. Yet before I could, he and his trainee found me. I wish I had a picture; right there in front of me was an image only government could create. A rather tall white guy wearing boots, a cowboy hat, and a Texas size attitude stood with the air of self-importance over a timid black man dressed in polyester, wearing a tie, and carrying a clip board. It was like being on the set of an Eddie Murphy movie.

While driving to Key West they had seen me fly over and turned around to let me have it. Apparently, the cowboy was sure he could accurately judge the altitude of a plane from a speeding car and was doubly sure I was too low. To prove it, he asked me how high I was. In complete shock that someone with such a great knowledge of regulation minutia and an impressive ability to fit in anywhere would ask me such a stupid question, I laughed. Looking back on it, I’m forced to consider that maybe it wasn’t such a good thing to do. Yet like the title of Ernie’s book, Fate Is the Hunter.

Honestly, it wasn't on purpose. It just snickered out. Therefore, when he asked me what was so funny, I just answered his question; “High enough”. It seemed like a good idea at the time but the look in his eyes told me I would soon be punished. It’s bad juju to openly mock a cowboy in front of a black trainee, at least it was to him, and I could see he was going to make me pay for it.

Initially I kind of felt bad for the new guy. It was obvious the queen (Aliens, remember?) had placed him with this penis dressed as a cowboy and sent them away; most likely to get cowboy out of the office. Egg layers have jackass thresholds too. Therefore, when Neal the new guy (the trainee) asked me if he could look at my plane, I said yes. While doing so, Brokeback Bob did his best to impress me with the power of his title and distract me from what was going on. When it became obvious they were going to look the plane over until they found something, I walked away and went to lunch.

Back then, Chici’s Cubans were like crack with crystal meth sprinkles. You just couldn’t get enough and I had to get my fix. Now let’s take a break and ponder me doing crack with crystal meth sprinkles. It’s a good thing I don’t do drugs because I’m pretty sure none of you would want to experience that. Right? OK, back to the story.

Walking back in the door from Chici’s, someone said “That FED's looking for you again and he isn’t happy”. And once again, before I could find him, he found me.

“Where the hell have you been; it’s a good thing you showed up; I was just about to ground your plane” he said. Then I received an amazing lesson on FAA Constitutional interpretation. According to him, once he talked to me, he owned me and I had no right to leave until he told me so. After that, we grabbed a cup of coffee, chatted about the weather, and had a rather colorful debate as to who the #&%$ he thought he was. His answer: "The guy who found a problem with your plane".

Knowing that the Miami FEDs always traveled south on Friday so they could spend the weekend there on your tax dollars, I was doing my best to set them on their way. “Don’t you guys have an appointment in Key West?” “Yes we do but first we need to show you what we found”, said the belt buckle wearing erection. Walking around to the lower left wing, he said “My trainee noticed your aileron has a problem”. That’s when the timid black guy, with a huge self-congratulating smile on his face, reached for the aileron control link that connects the surface to the belcrank in the wing.


The official Stearman repair manual shows where the link fits into the picture.

 Grasping the zinc chromated part, he rocked it back and forth 1/8th of an inch or less in each direction. “See, something is obviously wrong with this part. It moves”, were his words. I honestly didn’t know what to say. He was dead serious but there was just one problem; that part has or is connected to bearings on each end that allow it to move like that. Yes, it was perfectly normal but it was clear they were going to try to make it an issue.

Turning to look at me, the cowboy said, “You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to ground your plane. Do what you want but that part has a problem”, and he turned to leave for Key West. That left me with a dilemma; replace it or not?

Walking by my friends who had gathered on the bench to watch this all go down, I could hear them laughing. Once Woody had left the building, I learned he had been building a wonderful reputation for himself. Having been run off from several FSDOs for being a trouble maker, he had landed in Miami and the word was spreading fast. Hearing this, I got nervous and went into my full-on the-best-defense-is-a-good-offense mode.

First I called a friend at the FAA. Yeah, I have (or had) friends at the FAA. Anyway, this guy looked at the double dog secret FAA computer and told me the cowboy had already added information about me. According to my buddy, it appeared he was hoping to get the next FSDO, where I hopped rides in summer, to serve me up a cold dish of trouble. Then I called an attorney. He assured me I was ok and said to call back if anything new came up. After that I called the head of the Miami FSDO.  Using my FAA buddy as a reference, I gave him a detailed dissatisfied customer report. Finally I got on the horn and ordered a new aileron link that was rebuilt with new bearings and freshly painted.

One of the great things about a Stearman is if something breaks you can get the part overnighted. The expense would be worth it. If the local Rodeo star were to show up early, I’d already have it fixed with yellow tag in hand. The balls were in the air. “Tomorrow”, I thought, “I’ll see where they drop”.

Jackasses have an uncanny ability to suck the fun from anything. The next morning was proof of that. Pedaling at an increasing rate, exotic plants, colorful birds, and the warm tropical air blew by without notice. Life in The Keys was, at that point, nothing more than life with a booted bureaucrat. Ten minutes later, the UPS guy waved me in front of his truck as he rolled into the airport. The first ball, the new part, had dropped right where I wanted and when.

Tony (The Key’s best mechanic), asked me what I needed and offered any required help. Once you leave the mainland, you are part of the team. Mainlanders need not apply and the locals do their best to keep them out. If you work for the government, your ranking as a human is at the bottom of the list. Your name, on the other hand, goes to the top of the most wanted. Therefore, anyone and everyone offered a hand that day. I had become a part of the team; for a while I was part of The Keys.

Lying under the wing, a bead of sweat rolled off face and onto my neck. Performing aviation’s version of arthroscopic surgery, I could understand why you always see that person in the movies whose job it is to wipe the surgeon’s brow. A simple linkage replacement becomes tortuous when time and nature’s coolant combine to piss you off. And yet I kept turning the wrench. My life, and the patient’s, depended on it.

Almost to the last thread, I could feel the bellcrank coming loose. From here on out the procedure would require spinning the nut off by hand, removing the bellcrank, disconnecting the the FED's favorite link, and then reversing the process with the new one. Reaching into the hole, my attitude improved. The idea the FED would come back early only to find it had already been replaced put wind in my sails although I couldn't believe a perfectly good part was being replaced just for him. All I had to do was rotate it one fuuull - "CLINK, THUMP, THUD, CLUNK" went something from inside the wing. The thud was the sound of whatever it was hitting my head before dropping onto the ramp.

I still have the parts.

“What the hell was that!". Rolling over to grab it, the bushed zinc chromate color tab confused me.  "That must have been in the wing for ages", I thought. “There’s no way that..”.   Then I looked up and saw reality. While removing the nut from the bellcrank bolt, one ear of the casting that holds it in place had fallen free. Likewise, the assembly had fallen loose in the wing. I was stunned. A critical flight control had just disintegrated while sitting on the ground.

Upon closer inspection, it had been this way for a while. Only a small hairline of fresh metal could be seen on the ear that bounced off my noggin. One good jolt was all that separated a good day from a bad. Thanks to chance and an over-zealous FED, it had been found with my butt planted on terra firma.

“High enough”; I knew it felt right. Was it not for that response, Cowboy Bob and his sidekick Neal may have left me alone. I have no idea how or why they decided to pick on that specific aileron link. The other moved the same but they said it was ok. Perhaps it was the shiny top side where the paint had worn on the edge of the spar. Or maybe it was because the left wing had all the patches from people getting in and out of the airplane. And maybe, just maybe, it was pure dumb luck. Whatever the case, Ernie was right.

A FED showed up to cause trouble, claimed something was wrong with the plane that wasn’t, and because of my zeal to shut him down, something potentially disastrous had been found.  Sometimes the cowboy gets you, and sometimes you get the cowboy. When it’s your time it’s your time and for the moment it wasn’t mine.

Note: Fred the FED, or Cowboy Bob as I called him, turned out to be the son of a man in congress. Whenever he would do something completely off the charts, they would ship him out to another FSDO instead of firing him. After I raised hell with everyone you could imagine, all the way to Oklahoma City and DC, I received a call from the Miami FSDO manager. He was sending an inspector who knew something about old planes down to see me and he would be sending the inspector in question with him. When they arrived, the guy who “knew something about old planes” stuck out his hand and said “Al Kimball”. He then proceeded to ask Bob, sans Neal, where the problem had existed. Walking around to the wing, shrinking in stature with each step, he pointed to the link and attempted to slander it. Al gave it a quick look then proceeded to give Bob a learn’n. To this day, it is one of the funniest things I’ve ever witnessed. Despite Al’s professionalism, every one of his words cut an inch off Bob’s legs. By the time they left, it felt like Al had brought a kid to my house to make him admit to and apologize for stealing something. Cowboy Bob and trainee Neal were never heard from again.

Aircraft note:  If you have a Stearman and your ailerons have ever been left without the control lock on, I highly suggest you inspect those bellcrank castings.  There was even a crack in the tab that broke off.  It went all the way through from the bushing to the apex of the piece.

What’s your "Fate Is the Hunter" story?