Doorways To the Past
A cross country adventure by general aviation creates opportunities to revisit the past. As aviators, we can hop from place to place, with each location directly and emotionally connected to our personal histories. These places are doorways to the past, to branching points in our personal timelines, and they are charged with nostalgia and memory that only deepen with the passage of time. Considering that, imagine the bewilderment of an intrepid aviator undertaking such a journey only to find so many of those doors to be closed.
Planning for SurnameFest
In my household, each summer brings the tradition of SurnameFest (name sanitized to protect the innocent and guilty alike). For Kristy's immediate family, SurnameFest is somewhat like an annual version of the "Gathering" from Highlander, but with a more favorable jigsaw puzzle to decapitation ratio. Everyone is drawn together to a unique place for a week of togetherness, reconnection, and circadian rhythm conflict. Past examples have included Vermont, North Carolina, and Florida. In 2022, our destination was west-central Wisconsin.
Convoluted location selection process aside, I looked forward to exploring a part of the country that I had not visited since before an age when I could form permanent memories. Sorry Mom and Dad, I only remember the fact of going to the Wisconsin Dells in 1970-whatever-it-was, not the experience itself.
To get there, we planned a two day journey in the Warrior. On day one, we would depart Sodus (KSDC) and fly to my hometown field of Oakland County International (KPTK) in Waterford/Pontiac, MI for lunch. After lunch, we would proceed to Kalamazoo, MI (KAZO) for an overnight stay. Day two was intended to be a VFR flight around the south end of Lake Michigan, along the Chicago waterfront, then northwest toward La Crosse, WI (KLSE) where we would pick up a rental car from the commercial terminal before repositioning the Warrior at the more convenient Viroqua Municipal Airport (Y51) for the rest of the week. While we could have made the entire journey in one day, I suspect that it would have been exhausting. Optimism was high; the long range weather forecast for both days was pristine.
A Well Trod Path
| Date | Aircraft | Route of Flight | Time (hrs) | Total (hrs) |
| 31 Jul 2022 | N21481 | SDC (Sodus, NY) - PTK (Waterford, MI) - AZO (Kalamazoo, MI) | 4.0 | 2489.2 |
We launched from Sodus at 8:00 am on a Sunday morning, Kristy flying right seat and The Bear snuggled into the back with her books. At this point, we've mastered the art of fitting a pair of not-so-small rolling suitcases, an overstuffed backpack, and a few other miscellaneous items into the Warrior's baggage compartment with Tetris-like precision.
The day dawned just as beautifully as the weatherman promised and we tracked westbound along the familiar route to Michigan with the Warrior's aft fuselage proving shade from the morning sun. West of Rochester, we passed a Canadian-registered Grumman languidly motoring parallel to our course a couple of thousand feet below.
Niagara Falls were particularly misty that morning, producing a plume of vapor visible from many miles away.
 |
| Power plants on the Canadian side of the Niagara River. |
 |
| Seneca Niagara Resort and Casino (US side). At night, this thing is incredibly garish. |
 |
| Skylon Tower, Niagara Ontario's mini CN Tower. |
Midway across Canada, I spotted the Diamond Aircraft Factory that we toured back in May, the banks of early twentieth century-style skylights distinctively marking the facility's roof. The factory was originally built to produce warplanes for WWII.
 |
| Hazy Ontario landscape. |
Where Everybody Knows Your Name
 |
| The St Clair River at the international border between Michigan and Ontario. |
Every westbound crossing of the St Clair River brings me back home. It would be my first time returning to my home town since 2019. When Mom passed away, I lost most of my connection with the place and have generally not been back.
 |
| Final approach, runway 27L, Oakland County International. |
I called Oakland County International Airport in sight to Detroit from roughly 30 miles out. The airport seems to form the largest clearing in Oakland County that is not attributable to a lake; there is no mistaking it for anything else.
Despite the prolonged absence, I could have recited the taxi instructions before Pontiac Ground provided them: Charlie, Bravo 1, Alpha 1. We followed the yellow line through the appropriate turns and found ourselves shutting down on the Michigan Aviation ramp.
To my disappointment, Scott was not there to greet us. I learned that he retired sometime since our last visit in 2019. Michigan Aviation had undergone a much-needed lobby renovation during the intervening years, but it was Scott's absence that really made the place feel different. There was something about being recognized by name on past arrivals that really made the place feel like home. Now, I was just another anonymous transient.
"The computer shows that you've been here before," remarked one of the linemen.
"Yep. There was a time when I practically lived here," I answered. Was that only four years ago? It seems like such a different world now.
Despite the changes, Michigan Aviation remains generous with their courtesy cars and, within minutes of my request, a member of the line crew brought it directly to the Warrior. It was the first of many cars that I would drive during this vacation.
We made a trip to see the farm where I lived until I was six years old. Although it has been a subdivision since the 1990s, I still find it eerie to see fancy houses standing in the meadows where I played as a child. My grandparent's former farmhouse is still standing, though significantly reconfigured. For the first twenty years of my life, this was probably the most important place in the world to me and while it still exists, it is purely a look-but-don't touch situation. It belongs to someone else now.
We also drove past Mom's house for the first time since I sold it in 2018. The previous buyer, Ross, moved out of state for work and the house changed hands a couple of months ago, severing my last tenuous connection with it. It was another door to the past that was closed. Although I never loved that house, it had been my anchor point to Clarkston, Michigan since 1980 and the cognitive dissonance of mixed feelings over seeing it again came as a surprise.
Do You Want Fries With That?
For The Bear, the primary allure of stopping in Clarkston was not the maudlin nostalgia tour of places we could no longer actually visit, but lunch at Parker's Hilltop Brewery. Coincidentally owned by the brother-in-law of one of my Rochester, NY colleagues, the place had become a favorite of ours in the latter half of the previous decade. For The Bear, it was all about the amazing fries, thick curls of potato cooked just right. Our last meal there was a surprise birthday party for Kristy that we miraculously pulled off in 2019 despite numerous obstacles.
When the waitress asked if fries were acceptable as our side, we both nodded emphatically. Imagine our surprise when our meals came with decent, but utterly conventional French fries!
I guess you really can't go home again.
A Memorable Student Experience
After lunch, we added fuel to the courtesy car and launched from one former home for another: Kalamazoo, MI.
Inbound to Kalamazoo from the east, we were warned by Approach that we would need to fly part of the traffic pattern to accommodate Cessna traffic arriving straight-in from the north. To my surprise, when we were switched to Tower, the controller merely warned us about the Cessna before saying, "Clear to land, 17." We were now converging with the unseen Cessna at a 90° angle. I tasked Kristy with spotting the other airplane, which she eventually did.
While the situation made me uncomfortable, the Cessna pilot was clearly even more so.
"Cessna One Four Bravo, the landing Cherokee is on short final, two miles ahead," announced Tower.
"Am I cleared to land?" the other pilot queried.
"Negative. You are number two behind the Cherokee."
"I don't see him," added the Cessna pilot. He was reasonably calm, but anxiety colored his tone.
I maintained best forward airspeed to the runway, then tried to lose as much of that energy as possible to land short. I was already halfway through the turn onto the first taxiway exit (Echo) when Tower called. "November Four Eight One, can you make Golf?" (the next taxiway after Echo).
"Already turning off on Echo. Will that work?" I responded as we made the 120-ish degree turn onto Echo. In my memory, I have a sense of leaning into the turn as if that would somehow coax the airplane off the runway even faster. I just wanted to clear as soon as possible so the other guy could land.
Tower seemed surprised that I was able to make the turn, but enthusiastically approved that plan. Once past the hold short line, I brought us to a stop and advised Tower that we were taxing to Duncan. Looking up, I saw the landing light of a Cessna on short final.
"Oh," I said, blowing out the breath I had been unconsciously holding. "We had more time than I thought!"
"Nope, that's the plane that was behind the other guy," Kristy corrected. Just in that moment, we heard radio chatter from Cessna One Four Bravo as he cleared the runway onto Echo behind us.
Yikes! In hindsight, I should have offered to fly an extended downwind or do a 360° turn for spacing. It was all way too close for my liking.
We were marshalled to parking next to the hangar where I took my ground school classes over twenty years ago. The Duncan crew parked One Four Bravo on a tiedown behind us.
 |
| One Four Bravo being fueled on the Duncan Aviation ramp. |
We buttoned up the Warrior for the night, but given the excellent weather forecast, I decided to forgo the cabin cover. When finished, I wandered over to One Four Bravo to say hello and reflect on our uncomfortable shared experience.
He was a student pilot on his long solo cross country flight. He had departed Ann Arbor that morning in the Cessna, flew first to Saginaw, then Kalamazoo. After taking on fuel, he planned to head back to Ann Arbor. When I realized that his aircraft was a Cessna 150, I wondered if Tower cleared us to land first because we were faster.
I shook his hand and congratulated him on his accomplishment.
"Where are you flying in from?" he asked. When I told him Rochester, NY his eyes widened. "That's really far!" he exclaimed. It's all relative.
When I expressed being uncomfortable with the way Tower had sequenced us to land, the student pilot visibly relaxed. "Me too! I couldn't even see you! I was doing s-turns and everything to give you space."
"I think you did great and now you have a good story to tell the folks back home," I said, then wished him well on the rest of his flight and his training.
That evening, I could not resist checking FlightAware to ensure that he made it back to Ann Arbor. Not only did he succeed, but the airplane made another flight later in the day as evidence that he brought it back in one piece. Good for him!
Zoom Zoom
After being stranded a couple of times when Enterprise failed to drop a car off at FBOs in Plattsburg, NY and Brunswick, ME, I instead booked a car for the evening directly with the National rental car counter in the commercial terminal. The Bear and I made the short walk around the airport perimeter fence from Duncan to retrieve it.
I pointed at the Aeronca Chief hanging from the ceiling and challenged The Bear. "Do you know why that's important?"
Of course she didn't.
"Do you know who Sue Parrish was?" I asked, referring to the former World War II WASP, airshow pilot, and cofounder of the Air Zoo.
"Of course! I did a whole report on the WASPs!"
"That's the airplane she learned to fly in. That's why it's important enough to hang there."
"Cool!" It is always a delight to catch The Bear in a moment of genuine wonderment.
From National, we received a Mazda 3 which compensated for its small size with surprising zippiness. Zoom zoom!
Got Stealth?
My last trip to Kalamazoo was organized around a personalized tour of the Air Zoo's partially-restored Lockheed F-117 Nighthawk Stealth Fighter, Shaba. Part of my introduction to one of the oddest looking aircraft ever built -- described by its designer as the "Hopeless Diamond" -- involved an opportunity to drill holes and drive rivets into the airframe in a token contribution to the restoration effort.
It was good to see the finished product of that restoration. As always, the work done by the Air Zoo was impeccable.
Even the reconstructed pitot tubes were oddly shaped so as to avoid rounded surfaces or right angles in the name of stealth.
A day prior, Captain Thad Darger, a former Nighthawk pilot who earned the Distinguished Flying Cross while flying Shaba, visited the museum and talked about his experiences with the museum's newest acquisition. Unfortunately, my schedule did not allow me to attend. I did note that the museum had painted Darger's name on the Nighthawk canopy.
I took a moment to contemplate the replacement leading edge of the right wing where I had drilled into the Nighhawk's structure and riveted parts of the replacement skin into position.
The Nighthawk carried two laser-guided bombs that were carried within sealed bays in order to maintain the stealthy characteristics of the aircraft. All past pilots and crew of Shaba had signed this door over the years.
Shaba means "ghost" in Arabic, an apt name for the stealth aircraft.
 |
| Inside the Nighthawk's weapons bay. |
The museum even built a platform to allow visitors to observe the uniquely designed exhaust intended to diffuse the heat signature of the Nighthawk's jet blast.
Even surfaces between the ailerons and flaps were unusually contoured to avoid right angles.
Ripples in the F-117's skin were the direct result of sandblasting performed during the demilitarization process.
It was exciting to see the restoration completed and to know that I played a small role in both bringing the aircraft to Kalamazoo and restoring it to its original appearance.
The Real Top Gun
After seeing the oldest Tomcat in existence at the Cradle of Aviation Museum on a recent visit to Long Island, I paused at the Air Zoo's F-14 which -- outside of Top Gun -- was my first exposure to the capable Navy fighter. After all, I sat in the cockpit of this very aircraft. I once presented this airplane to a tour group that included one of the F-14's original design engineers. I paused in reflection on seeing Dale Snodgrass' name stenciled on the cockpit rail. Snodgrass was a former Navy fighter pilot with more hours in Tomcats than any other. He had a long association with the Air Zoo and routinely flew their warbirds during the era when the collection routinely took to the sky. (The maintenance team used to complain that they needed to retighten every fastener on the Corsair whenever "Snort" put the WWII fighter through its paces.) Snodgrass had flown this very aircraft on its final flight from NAS Oceana to Kalamazoo, which is why it has carried his name for as long as I can remember. Sadly, the decorated Naval fighter pilot died in a senseless July 2021 general aviation accident that involved his failure to remove a difficult to see control lock. RIP, Snort.
 |
| Adversaries. |
 |
| Golden hour lighting on the MiG-21. |
We picked up dinner from Erbelli's and ate outdoors in the Air Zoo's shaded picnic pavilion. While we ate, Kent stopped by to catch up.
Dead Composers
In 2000, just six months after finishing my degree at Indiana University, we bought our first house in a Kalamazoo suburb. Because Kristy is a musician, our friends were amused that our neighborhood streets were named for composers: Mozart, Beethoven, etc. ("Well, I see why you picked that neighborhood!" people would remark.) Our more astute friends were even more amused to note that our street was the only one of them that was actually misspelled (Shuman instead of Schumann). The Bear found this to be hilarious, as though we had misnamed the road ourselves.
 |
| Photo by Kristy, who needs to clean the camera lens on her cell phone. |
While we lived there, a Cold Stone Creamery knock-off called Bella Creamery opened at the edge of the neighborhood. To our delight, it was still open. We treated The Bear to some ice cream and, after a day spent in cars and airplanes, walked the neighborhood the way we used to before she was born. Eventually, we arrived at our first house.
"Just think, if things had gone differently at work, this would have been your neighborhood," I commented to The Bear. She had never lived anywhere but our current home in Rochester, NY. The decision to leave Kalamazoo was probably one of the biggest pivot points in our lives and, as we strolled through the familiar-ish neighborhood, I could not help but wonder how different everything would be if we had stayed. I think I can say with confidence that I would probably still have Warrior 481 and that we would still live with a whiny, twenty year old cat -- both of which came to New York with us from Kalamazoo. Beyond that, it is hard to say what would have happened had we turned to a different page of our personal Choose Your Own Adventure book.
As we paused in front of our former home, I still remembered the quiet moment at the end of 2005 when I exited the front door and locked it for the last time.
Got Ya Covered
As night fell, I reflected on how the day was more rooted in the past than the present. While there would be one more significant nostalgic foray on this trip, the rest of the vacation was meant to focus on the present by flying into unknown territory and reuniting with the family for SurnameFest.
 |
| All covered up at the Kalamazoo-Battle Creek International Airport. |
That night at the hotel, I started flight planning for the next day and was shocked to discover that thunderstorms were forecast to roll through overnight. That was why I found myself back at the airport at 10:00 pm pre-emptively fitting the Warrior with her cabin cover; the same cover that I intentionally left off that afternoon based on a prior forecast. Naturally, this extra effort guaranteed that Kalamazoo was spared from any storms that night.
The other thing clear from flight planning was that the following day was no longer expected to have perfect VFR conditions for a Chicago skyline fly-by. Instead, I expected an instrument departure out of Kalamazoo with low weather conditions persisting until west of Chicago.
But that's why I got the rating, isn't it?
Epilogue
About five weeks later, a Canadian-registered red Grumman arrived on the ramp at Sodus. I asked the pilot if he happened to have been flying westbound between Rochester and Buffalo on July 31. When he verified that he was, I showed him the picture I had taken of him that morning.
What are the odds?
%20The%20fleet%20at%20Basin%20Harbor.JPG)
%20The%20group%20at%20Basin%20Harbor.JPG)
