The Flight of the Microlights
(Page 2 of 5)
November/December 1979
By Jack McCornack
At Elko, Nevada our air-and-ground caravan decided to head north . . . both in search of cooler weather and because, after all, we had lots of time and hadn't bothered to plan any restrictive route or schedule.
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Keith and I spent a few days camping in the Idaho mountains (while Brad and Joe drove off in search of lakes and monster trout) before we flew-this time by choice-over the Grand Teton . . . accompanied by three guys in a Cessna 172. (To be completely accurate, the Cessna fellows tried to accompany us. However, the hot weather and thin air actually hindered the "real" airplane more than it did our Pterodactyls . . . so we were able to fly about 1,000 feet higher than it could!) While passing over the peak, Keith soared in close to exchange a few air-to-ground words with a group of mountain climbers. I'm not sure just what was said . . . except that there was a mutual questioning of sanity.
Our next extended stop took place at the Diamond L Ranch about 30 miles from Jackson, Wyoming . . . a next-to-ideal rest spot, with a big grassy meadow "runway" and no telephones. From there we headed over the mighty Rockies themselves, chugging along at nearly 15,000 feet! That particular jaunt made us awfully grateful that we'd brought along cold weather gear. It's right chilly three miles in the air . . . I sure wouldn't want to try flyin' that high during the winter!
BARNSTORMIN'
Sometime during the first portion of the trip, a new spirit took hold of the group. Our concern about keeping on a schedule-which hadn't been all that great a worry since the beginning of the journey-somehow vanished altogether. Without really knowing it, we were becoming barnstormers!
For those of you who aren't familiar with the term as it's used in aviation, barnstorming isn't an activity . . . it's a lifestyle, requiring little more than an unusual aircraft, a limited budget, and no concern for where you'll be in another day (or week!). A barnstormer is an entertainer who performs for food and enough fuel to get to another place where he or she can put on a show ... and whose profit is in the incidental joys of barnstorming and in the flying itself.
I figure that Keith, Brad, Joe, and I provided about the best entertainment value in the continental United States . . . and Mexico! A family could feed us breakfast for less than the cost of a movie, and get a show the likes of which they "ain't never seen before". (After all, what do you think any youngster worth his or her jeans Would remember longer: a movie, or the day the airplanes landed in the back yard?)
And just what were those "incidental joys" that helped keep us enchanted with the barn-storming' way of life? Well, they were many and varied, but included the day that a group of shy young ladies cooked us some trout near Cody, Wyoming . . . the experience of racing a storm over the Black Hills . . . the time I flew-full throttle-just a few feet above the ground so a friendly state trooper could register my speed on his radar set . . . casually landing by a lone farmer to ask directions, with both of us pretending it was an everyday occurrence . . . Keith and me putting on a two-man air show at a local fair for 50 bucks and all the beer we cared to drink . . . and just generally resting on haystacks, planes at the ready, waiting for a heavy fog to lift. The weeks went fast, but I'll always remember them.
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