Warrior 481 Gets a Useful Load Increase

I recently received an email from a friend whom I had not spoken with in a long time. He noted that I did not seem to be posting much in 2025 and thoughtfully wondered if I was OK. It was a good observation, I had suspended my flying for a time in the first half of 2025 due to a medical issue. This post is about what happened, what I did about it, and how it's going.

[Disclaimer: I am neither a physician nor an Aviation Medical Examiner (AME). While I am happy to share my experience in case it is helpful to others, please speak with your own physician if you are experiencing similar challenges.]

Miss Atomic Bomb

I was seated in an exam room whose decor utterly failed in its attempt at exuding a warm, homey vibe. I arrived planning on a routine check-in with a physician's assistant and did not expect any bombs to be dropped. The day was March 4, 2025.

"You're diabetic," stated the PA.

Castle Bravo nuclear test, 01 March 1954, public domain photo from the US government.

She continued impassively. "I'm putting you on metformin. Avoid eating refined sugar, white bread, and pasta. Any questions?"

Literally dozens. 

I stared at her in surprise. It was not great news for anyone to receive and particularly not great for a pilot. I was certain that she had no idea of the broader implications of delivering this message to someone in love with flight.

She paused for half a beat and, when my mental gridlock did not break sufficiently for me to ask her anything, she resumed speaking. "No questions, then? OK, come back in three months for a follow-up. Most people don't tolerate metformin well until they adjust to it. That will take a few weeks, so be sure to pick up some Imodium." With that, she was on to the next patient.

Later that day, I diligently searched for information about managing type 2 diabetes. Most sources I consulted began with a statement to the effect of, "If you've been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, your healthcare provider has already shared a diet and exercise plan with you."

Nope. In fact, on a later visit to the patient portal, I read the PA's notes from the appointment and became incensed when I read, "Patient has been counseled on an appropriate diet and exercise regimen." This grossly overstated the information conveyed.

The more I researched, the more dissatisfied I became with the PA's rushed and poorly-delivered diagnosis. At least she warned me about the side effects of metformin (if you know, you know), but there should have been much more discussion about the road ahead.

For Reasons Unknown

Type 2 diabetes is also known as insulin resistant diabetes, a name that gives better insight into what underlies the condition. Unlike type 1 diabetes that requires patients to take insulin, those with type 2 already make insulin, but their bodies cannot utilize it properly, leading to high blood sugar. High blood sugar is problematic for a number of reasons including damage to eyesight, particularly worrisome for pilots. Metformin is one of several drugs that help patients utilize the insulin their bodies already produce. In some cases, type 2 diabetes can be managed solely through diet and exercise with weight loss being a significant factor in reducing diabetes risk. While the risk factors and management strategies are well known, the underlying root cause of the condition seems less understood.

Type 2 diabetes often develops in middle aged people -- it used to be called "adult onset diabetes” -- and is linked to obesity. The normal fasting range for blood glucose is 60 - 99 mg/dL. The impaired or "pre-diabetic" range is 100 - 125 mg/dL. The result that triggered my diagnosis was 153 mg/dL. 

Another important physiological metric is A1c. Hemoglobin is a tetrameric protein consisting of two alpha chains and two beta chains. Glucose can chemically adduct on the hemoglobin alpha chain, a reaction driven by excess glucose present in the bloodstream. Increasing blood glucose levels leads directly to a higher percentage of glycosylated hemoglobin, also known as A1c. Whereas blood glucose levels fluctuate throughout the day, the A1c value reflects an equilibrium correlated to average blood glucose content over time. The normal A1c range is less than or equal to 5.6%, the pre-diabetic range is 5.7-6.4%, and anything 6.5% or over is considered diabetic. My A1c level was 6.9%. For context, many of the drugs advertised to lower A1c claim to bring levels down below 7% and the FAA wants pilots to be below 9% before even considering special issuance of a medical certificate. So I had an issue, but I was not a lost cause.

It will not surprise any pilots to know that type 2 diabetics treated medicinally require a special issuance medical. In this case, "special" means "lots and lots of bureaucracy". Type 2 diabetes drugs particularly concern the FAA due to the risk of hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) events that could lead to loss of consciousness.

Oh boy. 

March 4, 2025 presented me with a lot of information to process.

All These Things That I've Done

I undertook a number of actions right away.

I grounded myself from flying. Minimally, I did not want to fly again until I understood whether my blood sugar was under control and what the side effects of the metformin were going to be. Exceptions included a couple of instrument proficiency flights with Gilead and Tom where each was willing to act as pilot in command (PIC) for the flight. This covered me legally, but also in case the metformin actually caused a low blood sugar event while flying. I never experienced one, but could not predict that at the start. I also withdrew from flying rides at the Williamson Flying Club pancake breakfast for the first time in a decade, which is why I manned the tower/Unicom this year instead.

It's a bit inside baseball, but I delved deeply into logbook arcana. The FAA draws a distinction between logging PIC time versus acting as PIC. Pilots record PIC time in their logbooks and are allowed to do so provided that they were rated for the aircraft being flown (exceptions exist, such as for solo student pilots). Additionally, every flight also requires an acting PIC, but that time is not explicitly recorded in logbooks. A valid medical certificate is required to act as PIC and I had chosen to stop exercising mine. As a result, I continued logging PIC hours in Warrior 481 during these flights with friends because, even though I was not acting as PIC, I still met the logging requirements for PIC time. The FARs can be weird sometimes.

I radically changed my diet. I actually read nutrition labels now and largely eliminated sugars and significant carbs from my diet. The key, as with most things, is moderation and I have applied some simple guidelines based on my research. I have largely cut out pasta (while we have experimented with whole grain pasta, it's just not the same), bread, and white rice.

To help me understand how my physiology responds to different foods, I purchased a month's worth of continuous glucose monitor (CGM) biosensors. I waited until I was on my new regimen for a month, then spent a month as my own guinea pig. I learned a lot about the way my body processes carbohydrates. For example:

1. White rice is the absolute worst. Every time I had some white rice, for example, with Thai or Chinese cuisine, I would experience a whopping glucose spike. Per the literature, the basmati rice preferred for Indian cooking only results in a modest glucose rise. So I can still soak up my curry with rice, I just need to be prudent about the type of rice and consume it in moderation.
2. I can nip a glucose spike in the bud with a brisk 15-minute walk. This was a huge learning that I validated many times over. Consuming anything even slightly questionable could be remediated with walking, even white rice.
3. Bread can be OK in reasonable amounts. I found that I could easily handle my favorite Dibella's sub on a 7-inch "everything roll" provided that I also did not indulge in the bag of chips I historically consumed with my sandwich. Small victories. 
4. Beer is an interesting case. It is high in carbohydrates (high glycemic index), but alcohol inhibits breakdown of complex sugars into glucose (low to moderate glycemic load). Thus, the effect of a single beer on blood glucose level is highly dependent on an individual's metabolism. With the CGM, I found that a single beer did not spike my glucose at all. Similar results were obtained with hard ciders. Once again, moderation is key.
   
   As an additional twist, alcohol is contraindicated for those taking metformin. However, most sources indicate that the amount of alcohol in a single beer is insufficient to cause a poor outcome, specifically a nasty condition known as lactic acidosis. (In a nutshell, the liver is so busy processing metformin that it cannot handle metabolizing the alcohol and bad things happen.)

I started exercising daily. I have never been a gym guy, but since my childhood on the farm, I have always found solace in the woods. I am fortunate to live within a couple miles of multiple interconnected parks with well maintained, densely wooded trails that wind up and down through the terrain along Lake Ontario. These wonderful parks have been my salvation. Since my diagnosis, I have hiked almost daily with a goal of at least 45 minutes, but often extending to an hour or more. I track everything with an Apple watch, which shows that my typical walking pace is 15-16 minutes per mile or about 4 mph.

Top of the hill, Gosnell Big Woods Preserve.

None of the trails are particularly long, one to two miles at the most, but there are enough of them twisting through the various parks that I can mix and match routes as much as I want without resorting to laps (boring!) or treading the same path every day (also boring). All of the parks are large enough that it is easy to forget that they exist in a suburb, they are generally not very crowded, and immersion in the wilderness definitely soothes mental stress.

Sometimes, I had company. Deer in the Whiting Road Nature Preserve in early April.

On one memorable day, a full grown doe came charging at me from around a bend in the trail. I do not know which of us was more surprised to see the other, but the look of distress on her face was priceless as she put on the brakes while simultaneously contorting herself into a high speed U-turn.

Scene from the Whiting Road Nature Preserve.

What I call the Grand Staircase of the Whiting Road Nature Preserve Red Trail. Dexterous feet recommended, especially when coming down the hill.

Near dusk on the Gosnell Big Woods Trail.

Finally, I transitioned from my Third Class FAA medical certificate to BasicMed. This required assistance from my primary care physician's office. In short order, I had agreement from a different PA (not the one who laid the diagnosis on me in such an unhelpful manner) to do the exam and from the doctor to sign it off. My physician as unfamiliar with BasicMed, but when I likened it to a DOT physical, that helped. This path just makes sense to me. I was already contemplating making this change because after 15 years of perfect compliance reports for my sleep apnea treatment, the FAA still demands onerous annual reports. The idea of adding another condition to an already convoluted process that has delayed my medical in past years was daunting.

When You Were Young

When I was a 20-something graduate student at Indiana University, I walked the nearly 2 mile distance to the lab every day at least twice (there and back again), sometimes four times if I returned to the lab after dinner. I did it briskly, so much so that I recall a morning when a shop owner in downtown Bloomington set aside his broom and offered to race me. There was a valley between home and the university, so I literally walked uphill both ways. I left graduate school a lean 170 lbs and almost immediately gained 10 lbs when I started driving to work every day instead of walking. I weighed 180 when I earned my pilot certificate in 2002.

23 years later when I received my diagnosis, I weighed 223 lbs.

Four months after diagnosis (as of this writing), I am down 30 lbs and now weigh about 190 lbs. I am back within the normal weight range for my height. My wedding ring and a lot of my old clothes fit again; I've been rediscovering these things set aside at the end of the previous decade. My Apple watch indicates that my cardiovascular fitness has increased significantly and my resting heart rate is already lower than it was. My energy level is higher. Physiologically, I am more like the young graduate student I once was than I have been in a decade. I have even been stopped at the airport and told, "You're looking trim these days!" by multiple casual pilot acquaintances, even those unaware of my condition.

Put in a way that pilots will uniquely understand, Warrior 481 has undergone a significant useful load increase.

Read My Mind

When I returned for the 3-month checkup in late May, my official weigh-in revealed that I was down 23 lbs. The PA that originally diagnosed me had left the practice (bye!) and I met with a different one. She entered the room, popped open her notebook computer, paused to read what was displayed, and beamed at me with a pair of bright eyes that did all the smiling for her above a surgical mask.

"Have you looked at your latest data in the portal?"

Of course I had. My glucose and A1c numbers were back in normal range, if on the high end. I was unsurprised by the glucose numbers after a month with the CGM and was fully aware that my morning fasting numbers were already in the normal range.

I shared with her my dismay about the lack of information received with my diagnosis. I explained to the new PA that I had done my own research, described the changes I made in diet and exercise, and mentioned the out of pocket purchase of the CGM and what I learned from it. 

When I was done, she smiled at me again with her eyes. "Most patients are not this engaged. You've done really well and are likely on track to reverse the condition. I don't know if you appreciate how huge this drop in A1c is! It's all due to the changes you've made." 

I took a breath to interject and, seeing this, she nodded with understanding and got herself ahead of what I was about to say. "Yes, of course we don't know how much of it is due to the metformin versus the changes you made. But I'm inclined to take you off the metformin altogether. I think we can control this with diet and exercise." 

While the idea of eliminating the medication was very appealing, I balked at it because I did not know what the contribution from the metformin actually was. We discussed and ultimately agreed to halve my metformin dose and check again in another three months. This seemed satisfactorily prudent to me. Moreover, the fact that she was willing to have an actual conversation with me about my health after that wholly unsatisfactory appointment in March restored some of my faith in that particular office.

Smile Like You Mean It

To say that I walked out of the doctor's office that day with an extra spring in my step would be an understatement. I understood that I would need to monitor my diet going forward, but if I could control the diabetes without medication, the path back to a Third Class medical seemed like it might be relatively easy. We'll see how that goes.

My first solo flight post-diagnosis, SDC to PNE. My hangar neighbor Steve was on short final at SDC in his Bonanza.

Philadelphia City Hall, just a block from where I stayed.

I was also quite happy to get back into the air again. My first solo flight was to Philadelphia (KPNE) where I was an invited speaker at a scientific conference. It was great to reach Philly so quickly, but the ride there was a rough one. I hit my head on the Warrior's ceiling at least once. When I arrived, Northeast Philly Airport was not only extremely busy ("Negative, Ghost Rider, the pattern is full") but everyone was landing with a gusty 20 knot crosswind. Still, it beat driving and the flight home two days later was much more enjoyable.

At the Runway Bar & Grill, Bradford, PA (KBFD) with the WFC on 10 May 2025.

At Potsdam / Damon Field (KPTD) in Potsdam, NY with the WFC on 07 June 2025.

During my time away from the cockpit, I realized that I genuinely missed many of my friends from the Williamson Flying Club. It has been great to get back out and fly with these people again, to both log and act as PIC simultaneously, and to share the experience by flying with others.

Graduation day! 14 June 2025, The Harley School, Rochester, NY. Photo by Dena.

Other big changes happening in this timeframe involved The Bear, who shed her braces and committed to a college for next fall. On 14 June 2025, she graduated from The Harley School, a magical place that fosters academic excellence while emphasizing community. The Bear was a student there for 15 years before receiving her diploma, a "lifer": twelve grades, one year of kindergarten, and two years in the nursery program. This delightfully weird little bubble has been her academic home since age 3. The entire school population is roughly 500 students, slightly smaller than the size of my graduating class and The Bear's school experience there was significantly different from mine in all the best ways. The Harley School is one of the major reasons why I have been largely unwilling to move away from Rochester since she first enrolled. I am so proud of what she has accomplished and am excited about the opportunities she will have in the next chapter of her life.

Somebody Told Me

So here I am, in a better place than where I started 2025, but with more work to do. The next follow-up will be in August. If my numbers stay in the normal range, I will likely be taken off the metformin altogether. I hope this is the case. In the meantime, the trails call nearly as much as the sky.

When I think about the amount of progress I've made, I keep coming back to what my friend and fellow aviator Ed said to me over lunch at the Airport Diner in Potsdam in early June. "A pilot certificate is a powerful motivator." He was so right!

For many of us who were effortlessly healthy when we were younger, it is sometimes easy to fall into the trap of thinking, “I don’t need to take care of myself in that way, it was never necessary before.” Don’t. Even just a few short years ago, my primary care physician opined that I could essentially eat whatever I wanted without any adverse effect. Age has a way of sneaking up on all of us. That’s what happened to me. Don’t let it happen to you.

Delving into the Delmarva

"Hi...I'm in Delaware."

- Wayne Campbell, Wayne's World, 1992

Restless Pilot Syndrome

Having resumed acting as pilot in command of my own airplane after a relatively brief setback, I was delighted beyond words to be back at it. But something was still missing and despite a few trips with the Williamson Flying Club (for example, to the Piper Museum in Lock Haven), I realized that I craved exploration, one of my greatest joys in aviation. In fact, I had not investigated a new (to me) destination since sometime in 2024.

During the fall of 2024, I planned a flight to Massey Aerodrome (MD1) in Maryland that I cancelled due to weather. Massey Aerodrome is a place often romanticized by the aviation media for evoking deep, grass roots nostalgia for pilots. In other words, it seemed to be my kind of destination. June 29, 2025 was a perfect day to go exploring. Because there is no access to food at Massey, I searched the surrounding airports for restaurants and found two that were well-reviewed: Sugar Buns Airport Cafe on the field in Easton, MD (KESN) and Arena's in the terminal building at Delaware Coastal (KGED) in Georgetown, Delaware. Delaware is the only state on the eastern seaboard that I have never visited and so the plan practically created itself. Both Massey and Delaware Coastal sit on the Delmarva Peninsula that is defined by the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays and is named for its odd partitioning of land between the states of Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia.

Buttonology as a Key to Instrument Proficiency

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
29 Jun 2025	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - GED (Georgetown, DE) - MD1 (Massey, MD) - EVY (Middletown, DE) - N57 (Toughkenamon, PA) - SDC	6.6	3007.4

Geneva, NY and the north end of Seneca Lake.

I departed the Williamson-Sodus Airport solo at 8:00 am and picked up my instrument clearance in the air from a Rochester Approach controller with a familiar voice. At the end of our otherwise perfunctory exchange, Rochester signed off with, "Have a great flight, Chris!" This made me smile. Sometimes it is just nice to be known.

Thanks, Bob!

As I flew southbound over the Finger Lakes, a dense layer of clouds completely obscured the ground.

Northwest of Allentown, the inevitable IFR re-route was issued by ATC. I had filed from Sodus direct to Delaware Coastal via the ELZIE intersection to avoid restricted airspace. Philadelphia clearly wanted me on a more defined airway route as I passed west of the city. Allentown approach re-cleared me to Delaware Coastal from my present position via East Texas (ETX), Victor 29, Smyrna (ENO, just north of Dover AFB), then direct. I momentarily put HAL into heading mode, inserted the East Texas VOR into the route, programmed GPS direct to ETX, then switched back to "nav" mode to avoid any unexpected turns from tinkering with the active leg in the GPS flight plan. This was a lesson learned in 2024 while coincidentally receiving another reroute near Philadelphia. Once on course to East Texas, I plotted the waypoints defining Victor 29 in Foreflight and inserted all of them into the GNS-430 flight plan. It kept me busy for a few minutes.

I passed west of the city of Philadelphia, tracking southbound over the west bank of the Delaware River. Between the clouds and the haze, I never actually saw downtown Philly.

Have Fun Storming the Castle!

The new routing took me directly over the Wilmington (charted as New Castle) Airport, host to Air National Guard operations on the northeast ramp. It appeared to be well-populated with versatile Air Force C-130 Hercules cargo ships.

Delaware River.

Although I have been flying in the Northeast for many years, I had never flown over the state of Delaware or along this portion of the Delaware River. The route managed to be wholly novel while still feeling familiar.

Some of my favorite flying moments include spotting something unusual beyond the acrylic. I definitely did a doubletake when I saw what appeared to be a castle -- complete with moat! -- on a remote island in the Delaware River.

Bluntly yet vaguely charted on the sectional as "fort", Fort Delaware on Pea Patch Island is essentially an American castle with a moat. Constructed in 1859 to protect the Delaware River ports of Wilmington and Philadelphia, the enormous facility once housed 10,000+ captured Confederate soldiers during the Civil War. In 1944, the fort was abandoned by the US government and became a Delaware state park in 1951.

Delaware River.

Delaware River.

When I was passed to Dover Approach, the controller was handing off another pilot in Grumman 716ER. The tail number caught my ear as familiar and when the mental gears finally meshed enough to process that it spelled out "Tiger", I realized that I was hearing Bruno from Fly with Bruno who was out doing what Bruno does.

Meanwhile, Seven Miles South of the ARLFT Waypoint...

Dover AFB.

Dover Air Force Base was the last ATC facility I spoke with before cancelling IFR and setting up to land at Delaware Coastal. Dover is considered the Department of Defense's largest aerial port, it is home to 11,000 servicemen and women and their families, and is responsible for global airlift operations utilizing C-5 Galaxy and C-17 Globemaster aircraft.

Although Dover Approach was busy with various general aviation flights in the area, the Air Force Base itself seemed quiet. A cadre of cargo planes were parked below, my best guess is that they were C-5s because C-17s should have visible winglets.

Also attached to the base is the Air Mobility Command Museum.

I call this feature a "B-52 tree". Parking areas like this on Air Force bases are generally reserved for the largest of aircraft, but each spot was essentially empty the morning I flew overhead.

BS at Delaware Coastal

Delaware Coastal Airport (KGED).

From above, the existing configuration of Delaware Coastal Airport (GED, #286) suggested that it once possessed three main runways arranged in a triangular fashion consistent with mid-20th century military airfields. Although the wind was out of the west and favored runway 28, two aircraft were performing touch and goes on runway 22 and I followed suit because it was just easier that way.

The ramp was quite large and there were aircraft parked in multiple locations. I chose a set of recently rehabbed tiedowns and parked there next to a Cirrus Vision Jet bearing a registration number ending in "BS". I wondered if this was a message of some sort and suspected that I was not clever enough to understand it.

I entered the terminal building near a refueling jet and asked one of the FBO staffers if I was parked in an appropriate place. When I pointed toward the tiedowns I had chosen, he laughed and said, "Those are our new transient tiedowns, which makes you the smartest person to arrive here this morning!" His quip was clearly more commentary on that morning's arrivals than anything I had done.

After a brief wait, I entered Arena's at 11:00 am right at opening. The restaurant was spacious and well-appointed with long booths that were perfect for larger groups. These were set along windows with an outstanding ramp view. It was everything an airport diner should be. While I waited, I read up on the history of the airport.

My initial guess was correct, the facility was constructed by the military over eight months during 1943. It was configured with three 5,000 foot long runways in a triangular arrangement. During World War II, it was used as an auxiliary training field for the Wildwood Naval Training Station located across Delaware Bay in New Jersey. Over the following two decades, it was home to All American Engineering, a firm that designed aircraft catapult and arresting gear systems. Walls of a terminal building hallway are plastered with historical photos of All American Engineering projects being tested at the airport.

“When I Try to Get Through on the telephone to You, There’s Still Nobody Home”

I also discovered that the Delaware Aviation Museum was on the field, home base for the B-25 bomber known as Panchito. How did I not know this already? I was familiar with Panchito because it is one of the better known surviving WWII B-25 Mitchell bombers still flying on the eastern seaboard and I am certain that I have seen it at Geneseo before. Per their Facebook page, the museum is "always open". While that claim was suspect, I decided to walk over after I finished lunch.

I exited the terminal parking lot and walked east toward the hangar housing the museum.

An intersection such as this can only exist at an airport!

Unfortunately, no one was home at the museum. I called the phone number shown on an exterior sign and spoke with someone in Maryland. When I told him my story, he said, "You'd be surprised by the number of people who only figure out that we're there after dropping in for lunch." 

From personal experience, I don't think I would be that surprised at all.

I was partway back to the terminal building when he called back to tell me that a tour was already scheduled a couple of hours later if I wanted to wait around. I thanked him for letting me know, but decided to continue on to Massey Aerodrome instead. I mentally added it to the list.

An Anachronism in the Making

It was hot on the Delmarva Peninsula, with temperatures in the low 90 degree Fahrenheit range. The air was hot, the ramp was hot, the Warrior was hot, the yoke was hot... The thirty minute hop, including one small detour around another aircraft on a collision course with mine, was hot and bumpy. Massey Airfield (airport #287) was relatively easy to find with a 3,000 foot long grass runway outlined by white cones and bookended with concrete runway numbers set flush in the turf on each end. Due to an abundance of antique airplanes and gliders (both hang gliders and sailplanes) operating at Massey, inbound pilots should be alert for aircraft operating without radios. Seeing none, I set up for a left downwind to runway 20 and rolled out on the reasonably smooth turf runway.

Massey Aerodrome from the downwind of runway 20.

Set among the farms of eastern Maryland, Massey Aerodrome in an aeronautical anachronism that welcomes all comers with open arms. With a well manicured 3,000 foot long grass runway (02-20), an antique windmill, an old-style rotating beacon, and a multitude of vintage aircraft including a 1937 DC-3 as a centerpiece, Massey Aerodrome evokes nostalgia for the rural airports of decades past. Massey hosts the annual Antique Aircraft Association fly-in that was most recently held on June 21 of this year and attracted 80 fly-in aircraft, including a Pilatus PC-12 (not very antique, but a novel thing to see on a grass runway). One might be forgiven for thinking that Massey Aerodrome is a time capsule carried over from the 1940s, existing in a bubble that somehow resisted the passage of time. But the fact of the matter is, Massey was created by a group of four aviation enthusiasts in 2001 who repurposed the farmland into an exquisite grass runway. In addition to being a locus for flying vintage aircraft and pilot camaraderie, Massey is also home to a small aviation museum.

Warrior 481 parked at Massey.

Between the runway and the collection of hangar buildings on the northwest corner of the field are two rows of tie downs whose positions are marked by airplane tires. I initially tried to park in the easternmost row, but it was set on the side of a hill that seemed a precarious place to park a PA-28, so I continued on to the flatter westernmost line of tie downs.

I was met immediately by two of Massey Aerodrome's owners, John and Bob, who rolled up in a golf cart. They welcomed me to Massey, encouraged me to explore, explained that Bill was inside the museum and available for tours, and noted that the DC-3 and An-2 could be investigated, but warned that they would be incredibly hot inside given the heat. (Spoiler alert: they were.)

The old school beacon tower reminded me of the one at Three Rivers, the rural airport where I learned to fly. But what first caught my interest was the Corsair mounted nearby on a pole. While dimensionally accurate, this Corsair is not the genuine article. It is an exact fiberglass replica produced with molds created from an actual Corsair. As a result, minor details from the original airframe are reproduced in the fiberglass, from individual rivets and dzus fasteners to a traceable number embossed on a tail surface pointing to a specific Goodyear-built FG-1D Corsair. This replica formerly adorned a 94th Aero Squadron restaurant, one of a chain of War II-themed eateries. As it was for the restaurant, it is an interesting conversation piece for Massey Aerodrome.

Main buildings at Massey include the museum (left) and shop (right).

Airplanes fill a pair of large hangars, with the east hangar (left) occupied by tenant aircraft and the west hangar (right) sheltering aircraft belonging to owners of the field. Within those hangars, I found a number of treasures.

What most commanded my attention in the first hangar was this glorious Stinson Reliant. While the Beech Model 17 Staggerwing remains my all time favorite airplane from that era, the Stinson Reliant and Cessna 195 are tied for second place.

Also featured was a fancy push broom constructed with dual bristle types and equipped with a high visibility red handle. A custom broom support had been fashioned from a 1939 Piper J-3 Cub.

My heart always leaps a bit when I find a Boeing Stearman. Not that they are especially rare, but they remain a flying tribute to Llyod Stearman's robust creation, a design that somehow manages to be distinctively burly and golden-age elegant all at once.

This Stearman is of 1944 vintage and painted in all-yellow WWII Naval training colors.

Wind 'er up, let 'er go!

This 1960 PA-25 Piper Pawnee agricultural aircraft undoubtedly makes it’s home at Massey because Pawnees are outstanding glider tow planes.

Based on the original Aeronca Champ, the Citabria ("Airbatic" spelled backwards) has been in production from the current American Champion Aircraft company since roughly 1989. Before that, this 1975 7ECA Citabria was built when the Champ-derivative design was owned by Bellanca. My first light aircraft flight was in a 1999 Citabria.

Nearby stood a relative, a 1947 Aeronca 7CCM L-16 Grasshopper, essentially a militarized Aeronca Champ.

A 1941 Boeing Stearman, this one in U.S. Army Air Corps colors, bookends the airplane collection in the West Hangar and visually complements the Naval Stearman.

Not a 747, but a Boeing nonetheless.

Field of Dreams

I spent some time in the museum building, soaking in the glorious air conditioning, while talking with Bill.

A pair of partial Ercoupes with distinctive twin tails occupy the main museum floor.

Having already mastered controllable, powered flight, Orville Wright returned to Kill Devil Hills, NC in 1911 with a glider design that was so efficient that his 9 minute, 45 second flight set a world record that stood for ten years and is generally regarded as the birth of modern soaring. In October 2011, the Soaring 100 celebration was held at Kill Devil Hills to celebrate the centennial of soaring. Long time readers of this blog might recognize that event as the one that barred my landing at First Flight Airport (KFFA) the first time I ventured to Wright Brothers National Memorial. James Dayton undertook the construction of this authentic 1911 glider replica with intentions of flying it at the Soaring 100 celebration. Unfortunately, Dalton perished in an aircraft accident in July of 2011. The crew at Massey completed the replica and it now hangs from the rafters as a focus of the museum, a tribute to soaring, a tribute to the Wright Brothers, and a tribute to the pilot who aspired to fly it at the centennial.

That is one classy, radio controlled airplane!

Shop Class

Adjacent to the museum is a shop. During my visit, there were two projects underway.

One was the restoration of a Schweitzer SGS 1-26D glider.

The other was this Pietenpol Air Camper, a plans-built design dating to 1929 and intended to be relatively simple for builders to construct at home. This partially completed project was donated to the museum for completion.

Much like the original Pietenpol Air Camper, this incarnation will use a 40 horsepower Ford Model A engine as a powerplant. Like other designs of that era using liquid-cooled engines, there is no unobtrusive position for the radiator. In the case of the Air Camper, it is awkwardly placed directly in front of the pilot's face. 

Shadow cast by the hangar door.

For Tilting at...?

The Aermotor Windmill Company has fabricated windmill-driven water pumps since 1888. As a totem for the airport, the windmill evokes a certain rural nostalgia.

A Civilian Bird in Military Dress

Rescued from display at a defunct Delaware restaurant called Air Transport Command, Massey's 1937 DC-3 (NC18111) is probably the best known aircraft in the collection.

When I first arrived, I asked Bob and John if they had aspirations of getting the DC-3 flying again. They both shook their heads and indicated that there was far too much corrosion for that. 

Despite the heat of the day, the open passenger door beckoned.

Although dressed as a military C-47 on the outside, most likely to suit the restaurant theme where it was displayed, this DC-3 once wore United Airlines livery. Venturing inside removed all doubt of its origins. The aircraft was not configured for the military. Surface corrosion was visible on most of the fuselage skins.

Bob and John were correct, it was much hotter inside the airplane than outside. Because of its steep deck angle, each creaking step I took forward carried me to higher elevation where the heat accumulated. When I reached the narrow passage to the cockpit, the metal surfaces on either side radiated enough heat to fry eggs. It was an airplane nerd's equivalent to those incredibly hot metal playground slides that routinely scorched the legs of careless Gen X children. I was careful not to inadvertently brush up against any of those metal surfaces for fear of fusing to them.

Imagine flying IFR when your primary flight instruments are positioned just above knee height. Granted, ergonomics was probably not much of a focus for 1930s aircraft designers. Still, the panel looked too strikingly clean and well-organized to be original and I wondered if the airplane was refitted more recently. The museum has photographic evidence that the aircraft was still flying passengers for Shawnee Airlines in 1971, so perhaps this reflects a comparatively modern panel refresh.

One way to make a 90 °F day seem comfortable is to spend some time inside an outdoor static display DC-3, then venture back outside.

From Russia Ukraine with Love

Beside the Massey DC-3 stands an aeronautical icon of a different sort. The Soviet designed Antonov An-2 is considered the largest single engine biplane in the world. It is a utility aircraft well renowned for its lifting power and ability to operate from rough terrain. Though it first flew in 1947, the An-2 boasts an astounding fifty-four year production run.

Part of the success of the An-2 can be traced to leading edge slats that automatically deploy below 40 mph and endow the ungainly biplane with superb low speed performance. In fact, according to authors Gordon and Komissarov, the An-2 operating manual does not contain a published stall speed for the airplane. Rather it states, "If the engine quits in instrument conditions or at night, the pilot should pull the control column full aft and keep the wings level. The leading-edge slats will snap out at about 64 km/h (40 mph) and when the airplane slows to a forward speed of about 40 km/h (25 mph), the airplane will sink at about a parachute descent rate until the aircraft hits the ground." (Yefim Gordon and Dimitriy Komissarov, "Antonov An-2: Annushka, Maid of All Work")

With performance like that, who needs a Cirrus? Oh...did you want to actually get somewhere quickly? Why go fast when you can burn 50 gal/hr to cruise slower than Warrior 481? But if it's hauling capacity that you need, especially from poorly prepared surfaces, the An-2 might just be for you.

The Antonov's passenger compartment used military-style metal seat pans apparently equipped with drains. Were Russian soldiers of a certain era prone to incontinence? Did the pilots of these airplanes perform such wild airborne gyrations that passengers regularly wet their pants? A mystery for the ages. 

To the best of my ability to interpret this, it says something about "smoking and unbuckling prohibited".

It's indisputably a cockpit with flight controls and instruments. But to my Western pilot's eye, the aesthetic is just a little off.

Purpose-Built

From the open shop door, Bill and I watched the Massey-based Bailey-Moyes Dragonfly taxi past, an Australian designed ultralight specifically built for towing hang gliders aloft. A tow had just occurred, but I missed it. When I took off a few minutes later, I saw no sign of the hang glider.

My final view of Massey Aerodrome before throttling up for departure was of the flush-set concrete runway numbers in the grass. Most runway numbers are painted on asphalt and thus are reasonably transient. Here, the numbers are likely more durable than the runway itself.

Farewell Massey Aerodrome! Thanks to Bill, Bob, and John for their excellent hospitality!

The Quest for Fuel

From Massey, the return home was a little less well-planned. Mostly because I did not have a plan for the flight home when I left Sodus that morning. I was on the edge of needing fuel, maybe I did, maybe I didn't. I decided that I should get fuel locally and use it as a means to do some further exploring. Fuel at Summit Airport (KEVY, #288) in Middletown, DE was priced to move at $5.55/gallon and was just east of the direct flight home. 

I knew that I made a mistake the moment I landed. Actually, the moment I landed was a little more firm than I prefer, so I actually became aware of committing two errors in rapid succession. While the facility was nice enough, it was completely deserted without even a tumbleweed to provide movement on the ramp. The well-priced fuel was full-serve only and some vagaries in the advertised hours of the FBO failed to scream "closed on Sunday" loudly enough for me to clue in.

OK...next.

As one interesting factoid of note, there is a Chinook maintenance facility at Summit. This was clear from the various examples of the normally-twin-rotor whirlybirds lounging about in different stages of undress.

Before departing Summit, I identified New Garden in Toughkenamon, PA (N57, #289) as an interesting choice with fuel priced only slightly higher at $5.60. It was just a few minutes due north of Summit. New Garden? Isn't that in Gary Mascelli territory?

Overflying the Delaware Canal on departure from Summit.

New Garden was quite active for a sweltering Sunday afternoon. Set across an undulating landscape of varied elevation with a runway that had been deliberately raised and leveled paired with a parallel taxiway that had not, the airport facility appeared to have grown almost biologically, spreading where it could across the available challenging terrain. In some cases, hangars sat at a higher elevation than the runway, in others, well below. A mixture of fixed wing powered aircraft operated in concert with gliders departing and landing on grass along the south side of the runway.

A glider moments before alighting at New Garden.

A lineman assisted with pumping the self-serve fuel, pegged me as new to the field because I obviously had no idea where anything was, and kindly explained anything that I asked about. 

"Most people come here for the first time because they see the cheap fuel," he said casually while watching my face for a reaction.

"Uh-huh," I said, cool as a cucumber.

"Oh, so, you too, then?"

Dammit...

A Pawnee tow-plane prepares to tow a glider aloft.

The glider pilot danced on his rudder pedals to signal his readiness to the Pawnee pilot.

I have flown two tows from a glider, flying a curious sort of formation while physically joined to another aircraft by rope. It was as novel an experience to me as it was delightful. I have no doubt that the real joy for glider pilots comes from finding lift and working those natural updrafts and using their wiles to prolong the time aloft. Sadly, Elliot and I did not find any that day in the descending Front Range air over Boulder

I watched intently, probably wearing a big stupid grin, as the powered Pawnee yoked to the silent sailplane climbed together as partners into the hazy summer sky.

"Is that an An-2 I over there?" Two in one day?

The line guy nodded and explained that a local owner bought it in Poland, had it disassembled there, shipped to New Garden, and reassembled it with the same team from Poland. It was the exact same airframe as the one I explored at Massey, but wearing a decidedly modern suit.

Stepping into the FBO, which appeared to be an office area carved from the back corner of a maintenance hangar, I attempted avoid looking like a slack-jawed yokel. It was elegantly decorated, featured a Red bird full motion simulator in a glass-walled room off the lobby, and a water bottle filling station (score!).

I loved my visit to New Garden. This is a place with its own distinctive personality, exuding a different vibe from the laid back rural nostalgia of Massey or the big bucks aviation enthusiast demeanor of Panchito's home at Delaware Coastal. It was a welcoming place worthy of exploration.

Reflection

I departed Sodus at 8:00 am that morning and returned around 6:00 pm, a very long day to be out exploring new places and flying in the heat. Success was not defined by where I went or how well I flew. Success was a feeling. A day that long in those temperatures can go either way, it can be joyfully refreshing or it can be an utter slog.

In this case, as I debriefed the day while removing the breathtakingly dense accumulation of insects from Warrior 481's forward facing surfaces, I had my answer. Not in the numbers, but in my gut.

That exploration itch had been wonderfully scratched.

 For now. :-)

Watch out for the towering cu's!