INTRODUCTION


This is my personal journal of the trip which Bobby and I took, during June
of 2003. It is unedited, raw, personal and unpolished. Perhaps one day,
I will take this journal and along with the 15 hours of video and 700 still
photos….turn the whole basket into a readable story.

Until then…I present it to you, as I wrote during our trip. Usually at the
end of each day or early of a morning I would sit down with my thoughts.
Often we were tired or in a hurry to be underway; so no effort was made to
develop my thoughts or organize the words. It is more of a diary than a
journal. Please forgive the shortcomings.

A number of friends and family have asked if they might read this journal.
It is offered as a gift to dear friends and loved ones.

Bob

Copyright 2003



Prior to departure

This journal began a very long time ago; in the heart and mind of the young
man that I was …..31 years ago.

In 1972 , just beginning my career as an airline pilot, I came upon some
old airline route maps. Studying the maps, I noticed that nearly every part
of the U.S. border had some airline service. With my mind's eye the dots
were connected between the cities and a rough outline of our nation's
borders was revealed.

Thus was born the notion of flying around the border of our nation;
observing from the cockpits of various airliners. Time and circumstance
intervened and the trip was never made.

As decades passed and I became no longer a young man….the dream none the
less remained. And so…. Today at age 56, in partnership with my youngest
son, the dream of 31 years is about to become reality.

For….on this day Bobby and I will set out on a 13,000 mile journey, to fly
the borders of our nation, in our own airplane.

May God watch over and protect us.

LET THE ADVENTURE BEGIN



June 1, 2003

And so….we are on our way. We left Washington, Mo. For Hobart, Indiana at
10:00 a.m. under partly sunny skies. Diane, Katie, Doris and Jack
Dilliard, Jack Hereford, Ray Frankenberg and a reporter from the Missourian
newspaper were there to see us off.

We landed at Hobart after two hours of smooth flight. Bobby flew. The
visibility was unlimited. Chicago skyline magnificent.

I flew from Hobart to Boise Blanc, Michigan, with a fuel stop 30 minutes
out of the island. We followed the shoreline of Lake Michigan, enjoying
the scenery. Half way up Bobby fell asleep on my shoulder.

I flew along with him dozing. It had been many years since he had leaned
against me and slept. Like a little child he rested. Those slumbering
moments of themselves....would have make the trip worthwhile.

The island was perfect, primitive and isolated. A grass strip, outhouse
and manual water pump.

Shortly after setting up camp …a grizzled, nearly deaf, old, guy showed up
in a red Citabria, with his yellow Lab dog. "Stu" had a small cabin on the
beach. His airport car would not start. So he hitch- hiked to his cabin.

We had a wonderful camp dinner. Coffee, ravioli, chili,fruit, fig newtons,
crackers and cheese.

It got very cold. About 40 degrees. We slept warm in our sleeping bags
and tent.

The island is located at the northern tip of Michigan near Mackinaw Island.
The night was dark, clear and silent. Only the occasional drumming of a
distant ship's engine punctuated the perfect peace.



June 2, 2003

Up early about 6:30 a.m. Fried, eggs, bacon, toast and coffee for
breakfast. Why does it smell and taste so good at a campsite?

Off we go, in perfect weather, following the eastern shoreline of Michigan.
Bobby flew to St. Clair, Michigan, just north of Detroit.

We had a fruit and cracker lunch and then headed along the coastline right
through downtown Detroit; only a few hundred feet from the Canadian border,
at 2,500 feet. Beautiful!

At Toledo, Ohio we picked up the southern shoreline of Lake Erie and flew
eastward to Erie, Penn. There we cut eastward heading to Uncle Ferd's, at
Whitney Point N.Y. We stopped at Cory. PA for fuel. The Penn countryside
was lovely beyond belief. Lush, green hills swept under our wings all the
way to Whitney Point N.Y. Bobby flew.

We landed at Green N.Y. A perfect grass strip set in a valley surrounded
by high hills. It reminded us of southern Germany. We spent the night at
Uncle Ferd's house. Bobby and I shared a double bed. Slept o.k. Bobby
jumped around all night , like a beached whale.



Uncle Ferd showed us his huge Belgian Farm horses and horse drawn
equipment, with which he "hobby farms."


June 3, 2003

We were up at 6:45 a.m. Coffee and conversation with Uncle Ferd and Aunt
Dawn. Soon we were off to the little airport; picking up Egg McMuffins
enroute. We then flew 1:30 minutes to Niagara Falls, N.Y. (Denny McAlee's
home town)

We rented a car , drove into Canada and visited the falls. Then to Ft.
Niagara. It sits on Lake Ontario at the mouth of the Niagara River.
Bobby and I both enjoyed it's history, stone buildings and many cannon.

Then…off we flew, following the shoreline of Lake Ontario and the border of
New York. First, east bound. Then up the coast. North to the mouth of
the St. Lawrence Seaway and the border of Canada, we flew. Then again
eastward along the U.S. side of the St. Lawrence River. Broad green farms
and small villages, with French names, passed beneath our wings. Onward we
followed into the lovely green mountains of Vermont.

We landed at Caladonia, Vermont at 6:45 p.m., but it was too civilized,
although pretty. So off we headed to another nearby airport of Cory,
Vermont. The runway was dirt and rock, so we overflew. Bobby located this
place, only 17 miles away. And so we found our perfect grass strip, tucked
into a tight mountain valley. Short runway, steep hills and trees at the
end. A few old Piper Cubs and Taylorcrafts parked about. Ramshackle
hangers; our kind of place! We are only 3 miles south of the Canadian
border and 3:50 min. flight time from Niagara Falls.

It was a wild approach; with gusty, changing winds. Soon …camp, dinner,
excited talk and sleep.


June 4, 2003

I awoke this morning a 5:45 am. The sun was rising over the green
mountains of Colebrook, New Hampshire. After a sound night's sleep; we
are greeted by moisture, frozen on the inside of our tent. Outside….heavy
dew and frozen droplets of moisture are everywhere.

Bobby still sleeps. Fog fills the airport valley but the clear bright sun
is chasing the frost and fog away. Coffee is percolating on our little
stove, fueled by gas from our airplane. Soon Bobby will awaken to the
clear quiet beauty of this place and we will plan our day's adventure.






GHOSTS OF THE NIGHT

We camped by a dilapidated, old tin hanger. Loose tin rattled with the
night winds. Lucky for us, we had discovered the "spooks" before dark.
Otherwise our imagination might have not allowed us to sleep!

(night of June 4, 2003)

What a day this was! Greeted by flawless blue skies, we flew over the
mountains to Berlin, N.H. for fuel. Then a few miles north to the Canadian
border. Over mountains: thru valleys, along rivers, we traced the border.
Green mountains everywhere. Very few people. For 100 miles approaching
Adroostock, Maine, we flew over vast uninhabited. Pine forest. Adroostock:
the very northern tip of Maine. We were greeted by a teenage boy and his
dogs. Approaching… we could hear Canadian pilots, across the border,
speaking French over the aircraft radio.

Around the tip of Maine. Then southbound and westerly along the border.
Soon the Atlantic Ocean appeared in our windows. Along the Atlantic coast:
rocky cliffs, hundreds of islands, beach front homes, yachts and sailboats
everywhere. By Kennebunkport, Maine(summer home of former Pres. Bush)

North of Boston our first clouds. We ducked under them and flew to "ZIM".
Bob Ziminski's private strip; where we bought the Maule, last year

TOUCHDOWN

A huge ravine at the approach end: trees on each side of the runway, 800
feet of uphill grass, across a driveway, 700 more feet of grass and then a
wall of 50 ft. high pine trees!! We stopped before the driveway. Bobby's
eyes were wide. My heart was pounding! Arrival unannounced; 10 minutes
later we joined Bob and Amy Ziminski for a home cooked meal…..Interrupted
by the roar of our 210 h.p. engine.

Dinner, a shower, cigar by the pool, to bed at 11:00 p.m. Slept soundly in
a warm soft bed.

June 5, 2003

Up to a cloudy, cool morning. Huge breakfast at a rustic, local,
restaurant, waiting for the weather to clear.




Waited all day. Never cleared. Bob took his Cessna 180 up to check the
weather around 4:30 p.m. No good. Took us out to dinner in a neat little
restaurant located in Mason, N. H.; home of the real Uncle Sam. Sam???
Was the man responsible for provisions to the Continental Army, during the
Revolutionary War. To bed at 10:30 p.m.


June 6, 2003

Bob woke us at 5:45 a.m. Up to the start of a very exciting day. Bob
had a hardy breakfast cooked. While we ate, he pulled the Maule out of his
hanger. At 6:30a.m. we were airborne into a sunny, clear sky.

We flew south and then east of Boston for a view of the skyline. Then
down the coast to Plymouth, Mass. We circled the monument to the first
Pilgrims landing. Then east and north to Cape Cod; that wonderful hook
and very tip of Mass. Out into the Atlantic ocean, for a windy landing
among the huge sand dunes at the Cape. We fueled and then climbed the
dunes for a view of the beach and ocean. The sea breeze was strong. I
could taste the salt in the air.

Reversing course back to the coastline, by Martha's Vineyard and along the
beaches.

Quite a thrill as we approached NYC. We flew near West Point and then
turned down the Hudson River. We flew south over the river, on the Jersey
side, at 800 feet above the water. Barely passing over bridges; the
skyscrapers of Manhattan brushed by our wing tips. We circled the Statue
of Liberty at 700 ft. and only a few hundred feet from her base. Bobby
circled at the mouth of the Hudson River and I took pictures of where the
twin towers of the World Trade Center once stood. Over 3,000 people had
died when terrorist flew airliners into the buildings on SEP. 11, 2001.

Down the coast and beaches we flew. Bobby looked for nude beaches through
his binoculars. No luck, he said!

After 3:45 min. of flight we landed at Georgetown, Delaware for fuel.
There were 20/25 old C-130's and a B-26 parked there. Bobby had
cheeseburger and fries at the airport restaurant.

Later we found ourselves over the harbor at Norfolk, Virginia. We circled
and took videos of a submarine going into the navy base. We flew over the
Norfolk Navy air station and took video of 50/75 navy jet fighters sitting
on the ground. Bobby was thrilled.


Soon we were at Kill Devil Hill: Kitty Hawk, N. Carolina. 100 years ago
this year, the Wright Brothers made the world's first powered flight here.
We are celebrating that anniversary with our trip.





Bobby landed at Kitty Hawk. We spent 11/2 hours touring the site of the
first flight. An enjoyable visit. We took off, Bobby flying, for a 1:50
minute flight to Durham, N.C. Bobby offered me the take off saying… "Dad,
you should do it." "I will come back here someday…you might not."
Despite his kindness and the vivid awareness of my own mortality….the take
off was his.

We arrived at Chapel Hill, N.C. on schedule at 6:20 p.m. Butch Hoffa, an
old friend from high school, lives there and was to pick us up upon
arrival. He was one hour late. We later met his wife Jan, for dinner.
Butch and Jan had paid for a suite at the Doubletree Hotel. Lovely place.

Butch stayed at the hotel with us. We sat in a cozy bar and talked until
2:00 a.m. He had a couple of Scotch and waters and 20 cigarettes. I
smoked a fine cigar and drank O'Douls non alcohol beer. At 2:00 a.m.,
after a 20 hour day; flying 9 hours and visiting with a dear, old friend,
of my childhood….we went to bed.

What a day!


June 7, 2003.

My alarm went off at 8:00 a.m. I wanted to get up and be airborne by 10:00
a.m. But it was a rainy morning, with low clouds and low visibility.
So….groggy and tired, we went downstairs for a big, buffet breakfast at
the hotel. After an hour or so Bobby went back upstairs, leaving Butch and
I alone, with our conversations of youth.

I worry about my dear old friend; one of the sweetest men whom I have ever
known. Overweight all of his life; he has high blood pressure, high
cholesterol and is diabetic. He smokes constantly and has a terrible
cough. He will probably outlive me by years !

The weather improved and we were airborne at 1:45 p.m. I waved good bye to
my old friend. Said "I love you" and choked back the tears. Good byes are
hard for me. Butch is a dear old friend. I wonder if Bobby can yet
appreciate the treasure that an old friend can be?

We did some modest "scud running" under the clouds to Mt. Olive, N.C. where
we stopped briefly to meet Andy and Allene Greer. I had met Andy on the
"Smilin Jack's" internet web site. A very nice couple, about my age.
Andy had sent Bobby his personal Air Force flight jacket. Bobby is
wearing it on this trip. From Mt.Olive on to the coast and southward we
flew. At Hilton Head S. C. we ran into a wall of thunderstorms. We
diverted to a small airport at Ridgeland, South Carolina.



The airport was surrounded by rainstorms. Bobby learned a thing or two, as
the old man maneuvered and brought us to a safe haven. It was raining
there, so we set up our camp under the porch roof of the Civil Air Patrol
building. We kept dry: had dinner, talked and a good nights sleep.


June 8, 2003

This morning was cloudy, with rain showers all around. We took off about
11:00 a.m. and headed for St. Augustine, Florida. We had a devil of a time
getting back to the coastline. Thunderstorms, the Savannah, Ga. Airport,
an air force base and restricted airspace, all stood in our way. Finally,
we found the coastline and continued on southbound.

The 40 mph head winds of the last two days continued. We poked along at a
ground speed of only 100 mph. Bobby had a headache and so I flew all of
the way. We got to St. Augustine at 1:45 p.m. Bobby's friend, Reese
Robertson, his mom and brother Ryan, came out to meet us.

Bobby went to spend the night with them. I flew to a grass strip 50 miles
southwest, to camp for the overnight. I will pick Bobby up at 10:00 a.m.
tomorrow and continue our adventure.

Two Piper Cubs just now "putt-putted" over my airport campsite at 7:30 p.m.
The only airplanes since I arrived four hours ago. I am glad that they
didn't land. I like the quiet, isolated, primitive, solitude here. It is
like going back 70 years.

Thunderstorms rumble in the southwestern sky. I sit among wild, Florida,
vegetation. Will it storm? Who cares??


June 9,2003

Well it stormed and rained at dusk last night. I sat under the wing,
smoking my cigar; enjoying the rain and rumbling thunder. I fell asleep at
10:30 p.m.; only to be awakened by mosquito bites. I had left a vent open
and 20 or 30 mosquito were feasting on me.

Turning on my camp light, it took 15 min. to swat them all. My hands were
covered with blood. Spots of red on the tent, my pillow and sheet. I
awoke to morning fog, but the hot sun soon chased it away. By 9:30 a.m. it
was hot and humid. Sweat soaked I broke camp and departed at 9:15.







I enjoyed my stay here, which lasted 18 hours. It was private and quiet.
Squawking birds, frogs and tropical critters had lulled me to sleep. Not
once did another airplane land or a person come by. Bobby and his friends
were waiting when I landed at St. Augustine. I fueled, called Diane at her
Baltimore layover and at 11:00 a.m. we began our 3:30 minute flight down
the Florida coastline to Marathon Fla., in the Keys.

We landed at 3:00 p.m. The flight down was nice, except for thunderstorms.
At Miami w had to fly west around the storms. It was pretty flying down
the Keys. We had lunch at a neat little island "Hawaii"style restaurant,
with a thatched roof, sitting right on the water.

We flew the Keys back to the mainland and up the western coast of Fla.
Bobby got some good experience picking his way around and between cloud
build ups, near Naples, Fla. A first time thrill for him occurred, as we
wove through a "cloud mountain valley" and burst into clear sunny skies.
Wow! he exclaimed. "That was neat!" All aviators, no matter how old or
experienced….feel the same thrill.

We landed at Cedar Key, Fla., a little island just off of the coast of n/w
Fla. It was a beautiful island with a 2,600 ft. paved runway , surrounded
by large homes on the water. Camping was not allowed…so we immediately
took off again. Bobby located a grass strip, on our map, named AMES. So
we headed over there. As we flew along, a series of three rainbows
accompanied our flight path. The last and most beautiful rainbow ended
right at the AMES grass strip. I kept telling Bobby that the rainbow was a
good omen. Soon the omen was revealed.

Upon landing; only a small farmhouse was visible. So I knocked on the
door. A chubby, "40 something" woman greeted us with suspicion. Soon she
grew friendly and welcomed us to her "home," offered us pizza and brought
us a cooler of ice.

As we set up camp she began to chat a bit. Turns out that her parents had
built this little airport, in the northern Florida cattle country, some
dozen years ago. Her father was a retired pilot for CHAUK'S AIRLINE, A
Miami based seaplane airline. His airport is open to the public, although
privately owned. He father had died in 2000; her mother only last year.
Her mother's ashes are spread in the garden and her father's are embedded
in the grass runway.

She said "Dad built this place for his friends to drop in." "No one
comes by any more." "No one has landed here since daddy died." " I cut
the grass only yesterday, I guess that I was getting it ready for you."
Now Bobby and I understand the rainbows.

It is 10:00 p.m., Bobby is asleep. Under a clear, cool, moon light sky, I
rest in this quiet, park like airport. I am happy and content. Thank you
Captain Ames!

(note for June 9th)
When Bobby and I flew over Homestead AFB. Today, the air traffc controller
said that he was from Lawrenceville, Ill. He went to high school with my
best friend in college…. Bob Rice; who was from Larwrenceville. Small world


June 10, 2003

Up at dawn. 6:30 a.m. A pretty good nights sleep. Cool with low
humidity. I believe that we would have slept soundly, if not for the
squawking of Miss Ames' peacocks. They make a sound that varies from a
loud cat like cry….to a screaming "help---heeellp" They scream with every
disturbance. One doesn't need a guard dog with these guys around. So we
slept well….when the peacocks slept!

A gorgous summer morning; warm sun, a few summer clouds and a heavy dew.
The faint smell of cattle, fills the sweet morning air. Large herds graze
the flat, green, fields about us. Small trees form the fence lines. All
is lush, quiet and still. Three guinias just walked by, chattering as
they went. Strange, humped backed, chicken like birds. A very pleasant
place.

Off we went about 9:30 a.m. to Cross City, Fla. For fuel. Hot and humid
but good weather. After fueling it was a 2:30 min.flight to Pensacola,
Florida, where we visited the Naval Air Museum. The museum was very nice.
Bobby sat in the cockpit of several jet fighters which had been detached
from the aircraft. He spent :45 playing with the controls and switches;
like a little kid. His imagination soared. We talked about him becoming
a military pilot. I am sure that he has the talent; if that is what he
wants to do.

Once while sitting in a "Harrier" cockpit he smiled and said…"Remember Dad,
how I used to love playing in the cockpit of that old junk Twin Beech
airplane at the St. Clair airport, when I was a little boy?" I smiled and
nodded. Oh…. how well I remember those happy days.

We left Pensacola and flew 12 miles north to a private grass strip. There
Chic Maples cheerfully changed the oil and filter on the Maule. We had
paid $70.00 for 12 quarts of oil at Pensacola. Chick sold his for only
$36.00.

We left his place about 6:60 p.m. and flew the Gulf coast of Alabama,
Mississippi and finally to Slidell Louisiana. We found Slidell to be too
civilized and few 10 more miles to a St. Tammany, La. Landing just before
dark. St. Tammany sits out in the boonies, not a soul around. We set up
camp by the runway next to a creek and a line of trees. We had dinner.
Bobby played his "Game Boy" and I had a cigar, under the mosquito net.
Glad that we brought it along. To bed about 11:00. Temp.was in the mid
70's, moderate humidity.


June 11, 2003

Up at 6:30 a.m. Di is flying to New Orleans to meet us. Can't wait to
see her. I walked over to an abandoned hanger and bathed, using a rotting
garden hose, hooked to an outside faucet. A thunderstorm was building over
Lake Pontchartrain. I awoke Bobby at 7:30 to put our stuff in the airplane
before the storm began.

Soon it began to thunder and lightning. We loaded the airplane and sat
under the wing while the rain poured. The lightning soon convinced us to
sit in the airplane for protection. After the thunderstorm passed, we flew
the 20 miles back to Slidell, to buy fuel and wait for Diane. We had a
ceiling of about 1,500 feet and visibility of 3 miles. So it was a quick
and safe flight. Not long after we arrived, it began storming again and
continued off and on until after noon.

We waited there four hours for Diane to arrive. She few on American
Airlines from St. Louis to New Orleans. Then she had a :45 drive around
and across Lake Pontchartrain to meet us.

I enjoyed waiting at the airport. Old metal hangers; the rain rattling on
the roof. Tommy….a big ole boy of about 350 lbs. Managed the place.
Friendly and helpful.

Bobby….a thin red haired "Cajun" who had grown up in a house built over the
water…."a fishing camp" was the chief of line service Bobby was very
helpful and conversational. He recommended a wonderful "Louisiana seafood"
restaurant on the lake; where Di and I were to later enjoy dinner.

Fred….a small nervous mechanic worked on our magnetic compass and refilled
the leaking compass with fluid.

Billy….was the chief mechanic. Short, stocky; a tatoo on his right arm
said "Remember Vietnam." Quiet at first, he warmed up and was very nice.
He sweat heavily, in the heat, talked about loosing 27 pounds in only two
weeks, spoke constantly of his dog. He was very nice but seemed weak and
not too healthy. He chain smoked. I would like to have learned more about
him.

Diane showed up about 1:30. She looked so pretty. I didn't realize how
much I had missed her. We found a motel; the Comfort Inn, near the lake
and where we were to have dinner. We got Bobby a separate room. He needed
some space. Di and I…especially, me, needed some personal time, with my
wife.

We all drove around a bit later. We were amazed by the "fishing camps"on
the edge of the lake. Homes…. ranging from shacks to luxury houses; were
built on piers and sat out over the water, like suspended house boats.




After the drive, we visited for a couple of hours and then Bobby went to
his room for T.V. and junk food. Diane and I relaxed with talk and love.

She and I went out to dinner at Vera's , also known as the Rat's Nest,
recommended by Bobby at the airport. The fried seafood was wonderful;
especially the shrimp and gumbo. Di and I lingered a long time over
dinner. She talked and talked. It was obvious that she had missed us….and
we had missed her.

Dear God….I could listen to her voice, gaze at her beautiful smile and hold
her hand for all eternity. May God grant that it be so.



June 12, 2003

Exhausted, we slept soundly; awoke holding one another. Soon we collected
Bobby; off to breakfast and to the Slidell Airport. Another stormy day.
So we bid Di farewell and sat in the hanger visiting with locals and
waiting for the weather to clear.

BRONCO BILLY AND GATOR

What a pair of characters. They were pilots who flew Cessna 182's as fish
spotters for a big company in Louisiana. They told us about all of the
sights along the Mississippi River Delta. On the maps, they showed us were
an old pirate fort existed. It had belonged to the pirate Jean La Fiffe.
Also they pointed out the location of the Battle of New Orleans. Soon we
took off, as they did and we began to fly the Gulf coast of Louisiana,
crossing the Mississippi River; which we had left behind in St. Louis….12
days and 6,000 miles ago.

We chatted with the fish spotters on their radio frequency for a while.
Soon we were west bound along the coast of Louisiana….following the Gulf of
Mexico toward eastern Texas.

Along the Texas Gulf coastline, oil rigs dotted the Gulf of Mexico, ju
st off shore. Giant oil tankers prowled the waters. A huge refinery and
port greeted us at Galveston, Texas. A dozen ship waited with their loads
of Black Gold. Strong winds pounded the coastal beaches as we flew slowly
by at 1,000 feet.

Bay City Airport….60 miles s/w of Houston was our fuel stop. Lucky
us….cheap gas, only $2.00 per gallon.






The evening found us at North Rio Grande. The airport is named Star
County. Strong, gusty winds of 25 mph, with blowing sand greeted us. Only
3 miles from the Mexican border, the airport is more Mexican than U.S.
Located in an arid, desert like area….Bobby joked that it was the perfect
spot for an "Alien Abduction!" The wind howled all night long. Fine sand
blew through our tent screen and make gritty our bed.

Hangers with loose tin siding rattled with the wind. Under a full moon, on
a rocky, sandy bed…..I patted my shotgun and spent a miserable 6 hours,
trying to sleep. Never saw a soul….or aliens either, for that matter.


June 13, 2003

Up at 6:30. Tired, hot and dusty….the wind still whistling. Sam Houston
was nuts! He should have let the Mexicans keep this place. A quick, cold,
breakfast and we were…OUTA HERE.

Off we went following the Rio Grande river. The Great Lakes, Atlantic
Ocean, Caribbean, and Gulf of Mexico now far behind us. A short hop to
Zapata County airport for fuel and flight planning. Another quiet airport.
We were greeted by a Mexican-American and his chubby 13 year old son.

Remedio…was warm and friendly. He lived in a double wide trailer and took
care of the airport. Bobby called his friend Jason. Remedio remarked
about the convenience of cell phones. Said that he couldn't afford
one….but thought that the were handy. He commented and I readily agreed
concerning the "lack of courtesy" often demonstrated by users of cell
phones.

We shook hands and said good bye. He sent us on our way saying "God Bless
You." The gentleness of the man, his courteous and respectful manner
reminded me of the pleasant reception that I always had received, when
flying airliners into Mexico. Slowly, I am loosing my youthful, mid
western, prejudice; toward our Hispanic, fellow man.

Along the Mexican border we go. Maybe we will make Phoenix to see Leigh
and Jason. Following the border; it is some 1,100 miles away!.

Beyond Del Rio, Texas; we met a giant thunderstorm. With Bobby's
navigation and my flying….we avoided the storm and tall "communication
towers" until we were safe at the Del Rio airport and on the ground.







With the storm fast approaching; Ken put our plane in a hangar to protect
it from the wind and possible hail. Ken and his wife were friendly and
receptive. Ken owned the Fixed Base Operation, at the airport and flew
cargo in Twin Beeches; a B-25, "The Yellow Rose" and does his own
maintenance.

Pictures on the wall, a plaque and a signed letter from George W. Bush;
commemorated the occasion of Gov. Geo. Bush's inauguration parade, in
1999; when he was elected governor of Texas. Ken had flown the Confederate
Air Force's B-25, the "Yellow Rose", at the inaugural parade.

I decided that this was not the place to voice my general distrust of
Texas; nor my dislike of Pres. Bush and the policies of his administration
or Republicans in general. No shit?!

Ken loaned us his Ramcharger to go into town for a real Mexican lunch. The
weather cleared and soon we were again tracking the long Texas/Mexican
border. Along the Big Bend area; the Rio Grande had cut hundreds of feet
deep, creating huge canyons.….tall mountains all along our flight path.
Unexpectedly beautiful. The deep canyons and rugged ravines eventually
gave way to broad valleys and mountain peaks of seven or eight thousand
feet in height.

Eventually vast desert plains surrounded by mountains as we approached El
Paso, Texas; home to Ft. Bliss; where I endured Army basic training 34
years ago this month. A fuel stop at El Paso's West Texas Airport and then
on for a 4:04 minute flight along the border to Phoenix.

Just west of El Paso was a vast area of ancient volcano's worn down by
millions of years….they looked like moonscape.

Over high mountains and deep valleys Bobby navigate a safe route. Just
after dark we touched down at Phoenix, Deer Valley Airport. Having
forgotten the time change, we were one hour early. Leigh and Jason
picked us up at the airport.

Exhausted after flying 10 hours and 25 minutes today; I showered, visited a
while and collapsed into bed. A deep, exhausted, motionless sleep
followed; Having slept only four hours the night before. Our first night
in Leigh and Jason's home, since they have been married.








Sat. June 14, 2003

Up at 7:30. The best night's sleep in days. Visited with the kids.
Wedding and honeymoon pictures and stories.


Sunday June 15, 2003

Fathers Day.

Woke up at 5:50 a.m. Kids still sleeping. I am on Leigh's patio, enjoying
a quiet clear, cool, morning. Soon it will be 100 degrees. Bobby and I
are planning on flying to the Grand Canyon today. Just read my "father's
day" card from Katie. Diane brought it to me in New Orleans and left it
for me to open today.

Such wonderful, loving words from Kate. Of course, I shed tears, being the
sentimental sap that I am. Thank you God for my 5 wonderful children.
Lucky dad!

(Sunday evening)
Well we made the trip to the Grand Canyon. Bobby flew up and I flew back.
Bobby made the take off and landing a the Grand Canyon airport. Elevation
6,600 feet above sea level. He has now taken off and landed at a higher
elevation airport than have I….despite having flown for 37 years and over
27,000 flight hours.

The view was spectacular, as expected. Bobby offered many unsolicited
…ooohs, aahhs and wows!

When we got back, Leigh and Jason took us to a Mexican Restaurant for my
Father's Day treat. We got home to their house; Billy, Katie and Craig all
called to wish me a happy Father's day. As a further surprise; Leigh had
baked me a rich chocolate cake. It was her first effort at baking a double
layer cake. Just for dad!

Leigh and Jason gave me a wedding album filled with pictures and a
beautiful, framed picture of Leigh and I at their wedding. I was so
touched. Her kindness just took my breath away. I couldn't help the
tears. What a wonderful weekend, what a wonderful father's day. I got to
spend it with two of my kids; cards from Katie, Leigh and Bobby. Phone
calls from Billy, Craig and Katie. Big smile!!


June 16, 2003

I awoke at 6:00 a.m. We got up and loaded Leigh's vehicle; said good bye
to Jason. Leigh took us to the airport. We said our good byes on the
airport ramp. A busy work week begins for Leigh and Jason.



For Bobby and I, the adventure continues. We took off around 9:00a.m. and
backtracked over Tucson. We got a terrific view of the Air Force Boneyard
at Davis-Mothan AFB near Tucson. Thousands of old military airplanes are
stored or scrapped there. A Border Patrol pilot interrupted our radio
conversation with the Tucson controller to ask…."What are they looking at?"
More post Sept. 11th bullshit. If our freedoms survive a generation; I
will be surprised.

We flew into and landed at Ft. Huachuca, Arizona, where I had taken Army
advanced training inn July of 1969. A bit of nostalgia for me. I had
often watched Army Mohawk airplanes taking off and landing there; as a
soldier in 1969. I used to climb the mountains behind the fort when
stationed there. Bobby took a picture of me with the mountains in the
background.

Bobby took off. The airport elevation was high(4,600 ft.) and the
temperature was hot at 96 degrees. The Maule struggled over the mountains
as we were overloaded and full of fuel. We flew the Mexican border to
Calexico, Calif. Where we stopped for fuel.

Calexico sits right on the border. Only a fence separates it from Mexical,
Mexico. The elevation was "zero". Within 24 hours; Bobby had taken off
and landed at 6,600 ft and "0" foot elevations.

When we arrived at San Diego it was cloudy up and down the southern,
California coastline. So we flew inland to overnight, in a desert canyon
airport, called Aqua Calienta. It was a perfect spot to spend the night.

As I sat under the wing relaxing; Bobby discovered a no camping sign. So
we took off in 104 degree temp.and flew out over the desert to an abandoned
dirt strip, near the Salton Sea. Elevation…85 ft.below sea level. The
landscape in this area, looks for all the world, like moonscape.

We landed and pitched our tent in 104 degree desert heat. It is quiet,
dark and starlite here at 9:30 p.m. The temperature has dropped to only 90
degrees. It is bone dry here and honestly I think that the night will be
comfortable.

A local pilot named Bob Butler rode up on his 4-wheeler. Friendly and
helpful….typical of nice people who love little airplanes. Tomorrow we
will try again to fly the California coastline. For now….it is cigar time
and then desert sleep.

Watched a bright orange, nearly full, moon rise from the desert floor at
11:00 p.m. Temp. 84 degrees, when I went to bed.






Tues. June 17, 2003

Up at 6:00 a.m. 74 degrees, but the temp. is rising fast. Oatmeal and
banana for breakfast; airborne at 9:20 a.m. We make a low power take off,
on the rocky, dirt, runway. Used less power to avoid kicking up rocks with
the propeller. San Diego still had low clouds. They continued all the way
up the coast to San Francisco. The clouds sat right on the coastline. We
flew along the edge of the thin layer of clouds, only one mile inland.

Santa Ana and Long Beach were in the clear. We saw a bit of Los Angeles.
San Francisco cleared up, just as we got there. Fabulous view of the Bay
area, the city, Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge. We flew along the
bridge at only 2,000 ft.

Tonight we are camped in a mountain valley "bush pilot" airport. It sits
in a narrow valley with 5,000 ft. mountains all around. The valley
elevation is 2,300 ft. The runway is 2,500 ft. long. We had to fly up a
river valley to the airport. Then we made a sharp left turn, prior to
another mountain, to line up with the runway, only 200 ft. before
touchdown. It was a thrill for both of us. Real mountain flying!

We had a hot food dinner and I bathed later, in a cold mountain stream. It
is quiet here. No one else around. Not a sound except crickets, frogs and
night birds. A cool breeze flutters the weeds around our campsite. It is
9:30 in the evening and a chilly 52 degrees. We look forward to a good
night sleep. We will need the sleeping bags tonight.

At dinner tonight Bobby said…."Dad, you don't know how much I am enjoying
this trip." "But, I am getting anxious to get home." This is the 18th
day.

The flight today, up the California, Pacific coast was very impressive. We
flew at 2,000 ft. A strong head wind of 45 mph slowed our ground speed to
only 90 mph. The wind whipped up white caps on the ocean and sent waves
crashing onto the rugged, rocky, shoreline. Fabulous homes sat perched on
the craggy hillsides and there were occasional beach homes as well. Just
stunning….the beauty of this state; especially the northern part.

June 18th, 2003



What a morning to be alive. Cool, 49 degrees, dry and quiet. I slept very
well; nearly 8 hours and feel rested, refreshed and very, very, happy. I
miss Diane, but could keep doing this for weeks.

Bobby is a joy to be with. Although each evening, after setting up camp
and having dinner, he plays his "Game Boy" until bedtime. I had hoped to
spend more time around the camp talking about "life." But after 10 or12
hours of sitting shoulder to shoulder in the airplane….he needs his space.
Mental space; if not physical. I understand.

The miracle of all of this is; that he was enthusiastic about coming.
Damned few 16 year old boys would take off for weeks like this, with his
dad. Friends: his first job, boy scouts, baseball, girls, his Jeep….all
this he gave up for our trip. Yet…he is becoming anxious to return I know.

I long for the intimacy that we shared, when he was small. He is a
young man now and his independence is important. I feel that this is the
"Last Hurrah" of our father/son relationship during the remainder of his
youth. He is a joy dear God. Thank you for the blessings of my life. I
dearly love my entire family.

Well…it is time to awaken Bobby and begin our day. What will this day
bring?



(evening of June 18, 2003) at Sekiu, Washington.(review of this day which
began at Dinsmore, Calif.)
Well this day was one of the best of many great days. I woke Bobby at
around 8:00 a.m. to begin our day. God must have heard the whimpering of
this journal. For today; Bobby and I seemed so very close. He was warm
and intimate all day. We talked about all sorts of things. It began over
breakfast as we talked about his summer plans; continued through lunch as
we talked about "drinking", my alcoholism and the rich love and blessings
of our family life. On into the evening there was excited talk of the
magic of this day, our incredible trip and the raw beauty of Sekui,
Washington, the airport where we are camped and our surroundings.

Yes….a very special day. Made even more do by the stunning beauty of
northern Calif, the Pacific NorthWest and the loving warmth that Bobby and
I shared this day.

Thank you dear God.

Our flight today began around 9:30 a.m. We checked carefully our map for
mountain elevations along our flight path, and around Dinsmore, Calif, as
we would have to climb out through a river valley to get over the
surrounding mountains. We had excellent visibility, however a broken
ceiling of clouds, about 2,000 ft. high, hung below the mountain tops.




As I began the take off roll; a mother deer and tiny, twin fawns stepped
onto the runway and stopped there….just staring at us. I aborted. They
stood there for a moment and then the mother led them away. Up the
mountainside, away from our little mountain airport at Dinsmore,
California.



We took video of the drama; as a baby got stuck in a low fence. Tiny
fawns, gray with white spots. A lovely mountain family; their morning
interrupted by a roaring beast, with whirling, flashing teeth.

Up the valley we flew; our Maule clawing at the cool, mountain air. Out
into a wide river valley, still below the now overcast sky. Tall mountains
boxed us in, lying 10 or 15 miles away. So…..I began to climb through the
overcast clouds to get on top. Although I knew that the cloud layer was
thin and that the mountain tops were far away….the two minute climb through
1,000 ft. thick clouds; from 3,000 ft. to 4,000 ft. were among the longest
two minutes of my life.

Although sure of our position!?!….flying in the blind….I kept thinking of
my promise made to Diane; that I would take NO CHANCES. Where are the tall
mountains? Are you sure of your position?? Come on baby climb….CLIMB!

At 4,000 feet we popped out on top. Clear, bright, sunny skies greeted us
above. Tall mountains pierced surrounding clouds; All many miles away.
Just as we thought. Whew! I'll not do that again.

p.s. I brought home a piece of gnarled , silver , knotted wood that I
found lying on the ground at Dinsmore, Calif. It's shape, like that of an
animal skull, stirred my imagination.

Climbing over the mountains, we headed east to pick up the Pacific
coastline again. But low clouds once again obscured the ocean. Needing
fuel an oil change and our compass repaired again; we diverted inland to
Redding . Calif.

The weather was good there and the shop graciously agreed to do our
maintenance. Bobby….the mechanic, Charles, his foreman and Will the
manager, treated us like family. We took a taxi in to Wal Mart for
supplies and returned to the airport for a pleasant lunch on the outdoor
balcony.

51 gallons of gas, 10 quarts of oil, filter, compass repaired and the
engine cowling repaired. Only $298.00. They only charged for :45 minutes
of labor although they worked on the airplane for nearly 2 hours. He gave
us at least $100.00 of free labor.



Refreshed and repaired we took off in 82 degree air; climbing n/w bound
through a valley that would lead us back to the ocean. We flew by Mt.
Shasta. A 14,162 foot high volcanic peak. We flew toward her snow capped
peak until she filled our windshield. Passing by at 7,500 ft. she towered
7,000 ft. above us. The upper 7,000 ft. was covered by snow. From a
distance the base blended into the sky colors and the white capped mountain
appeared to float, ghost like, in the sky.

A huge area of small, extinct, volcanoes spread beneath our wings.
Prehistoric hell once reined here. I could almost see the flame: smell the
pumice and belching smoke; feel the burning lava and imagine the dinosaurs,
running for their lives.

Soon the volcanoes gave way to Oregon and vast green, rugged mountains;
covered by giant pine forests. Logging country.

We made our way back to the Pacific coast. Rugged cliffs and huge
boulders; island like along the coast. We landed at Florence, Oregon for
fuel. Situated right on the shoreline; a vicious 30 mph, gusty wind
greeted our approach. I used many of my skills to wrestle our Miss Maule
safely to the ground.

For all of our efforts; we were greeted by the airport operator. Kirk…..a
gruff, indifferent, sea captain appearing man. When we answered his
question about our journey he snarled….WHY!?! For fun and adventure
answered I.

The cozy warmth and soft music playing in his office belied his gruff
nature and appearance. I suspect that, in reality, he is a cultured and
interesting man.

Up the coast we traveled to the state of Washington. Green forested
mountains and a rugged coastline gave way to a broad flat river bayou, at
the mouth of the Columbia River; where the ocean and river meet.
Warrenton, Oregan sat off to our right.

We had intended to camp on the sandy beach at Copalis Beach, Washington.
However, we overflew as the beach airport was wet with the high tide and
covered with logs.

A climb over low mountains, another 75 miles up the coast of Washington
found us at Sekui. Sekui, is located on peninsula, at the far n/w tip of
the state. Just across the bay is Vancouver Island, Canada. Another
perfect spot for our campsite.

We set up camp at the western end of the runway. Sitting high above the
water with a beautiful view of nearby mountains. This may be the best view
of all our campsites. After dinner a retired teacher and his wife; out for
their evening walk, discovered our hidden cove. We chatted for half of an
hour. He told us about bears in the area and his life. Only one airplane
is based at this airport. Our teacher friend said that it is also a Maule.
To bed at 11:00 p.m. Cool, 46 degrees, quiet and dry. I gave thanks to
God…..as I lay in our tent, looking at the stars through the screen
roof….Bobby slumbering at my side. Soon sleep overcame me as well.


June 19, 2003

Up at 6:30 to lead colored skies, 51 degrees. I slept well. Too warm in
my sleeping bag however. Off to Idaho today.

(evening June 19th)
And so it was. A day that began at Sekui, Wash. And ended 800 feet from
Canada , at a tiny grass strip airport called….Eckert International,
Porthill, Idaho.

Bobby flew from Sekui at 10:15 a.m. and made a 40 mile hop to Fairchild
Intl. Airport at Port Angeles, Wash., for fuel and water. We left there
planning a low level flight around Seattle. But temporary flight
restrictions got in our way(another Sept, 11th bug a boo). So we climbed
through the broken clouds to on top of an overcast sky and cruised around
Seattle airspace at 7,500 feet.

We flew to Mt. Rainier and circled ½ way around the peak. The snow covered
mass sat atop the overcast and soared 7,000 ft. above us. Bobby flew to
within a couple miles of the mountain. The view was spectacular and we got
fabulous video and photos. Mt. Adams and Hood were also clearly visible.

We then climbed north over the Cascades and along the Canadian border.
Cruising smoothly at 9,500 ft., the jagged, sharp, peaks scraped at our
wings. Small, puffy clouds floated among the peaks. Snow capped mountains
and deep green valleys; tiny, ribbon like rivers completed the incredible
scenery below. A view of the Gods……words cannot describe.

We landed at Oroville, Wash. A pretty town set in a vast green valley. A
port of entry; a tiny white shack served as U.S. Customs. The flags of
the U.S and Canada fluttered on flagpoles set upon the border.

Airborne again ….laden heavily with fuel: our engine pounding, the wings
lifting us over the rising terrain. Twice we had to change our flight path
to a lower valley; as we could not climb over the higher elevations.

A differing landscape now. Rolling green lower mountains; dairy farms
below. Pastoral and peaceful…rather as I would imagine the Irish
countryside. Again now, steep mountains. Ridges of 7,000 and 8,000 feet.
Finally a broad, flat, lush valley….maybe 10 miles wide and 100 miles
long….. running north and south with high mountain ridges on both sides.
The valley is deep and green, with a broad river snaking back and forth
across the rich green carpet below. What a welcome sight; after hundreds
of miles of fearful mountains.






We followed the valley north bound to the very border of Canada. There, in
a loop of the river, lay a flat grass runway, ending only 800 feet from the
border. Here by a huge "Hops Farm" of maybe 20 acres…we camped on broad,
flat, fresh mown grass. Tucked into a corner of the Hops field, facing a
green valley with broad faced granite mountains of 6,000 ft. elevations,
only three miles to the east……another stunningly beautiful place.

A good place to relax and spend the night. Dinner is over. It is growing
dark. Coffee perks on our camp stove. Time for a cigar, then snuggle warm
in my sleeping bag. A good night it will be. Thank you God for another
safe and magnificent day.

Soon….we shall be home.


June 20, 2003

Well….it was not a good night. Rain fell just as I was all comfy and ready
for sleep. So, out of my warm bed to place the rain cover on our tent.
Wing gusted as I fumbled in the dark.

About 3:30 a.m., I was awakened by more gusty winds and the popping of the
rain fly, against the side of our tent. Worried about our airplane I got
up; and in my underwear, cold rain falling, tied the airplane down, with
the straps and ground screws that we carried with us. Chilled and
shivering, I crawled back into my sleeping bag and waited for sleep.

The winds howled and gusted ever stronger. I was afraid that my straps
might not hold. Worry kept me awake. About 4:00 a.m. I remembered seeing
a permanent tie-down, with chains, near the runway. Out of bed again…..
untie our airplane, start up the engine and taxi to a permanent tie-down
location. The roaring engine filled our mountain valley and echoed off of
their granite walls. The few residents of Port Hill must have wondered
…..what could possible be going on at 4:00 a.m.

Finally….I dozed off around 4:40 and slept fitfully until 6:45…. a
miserable night; maybe four hours of sleep. I had not wanted to waken
Bobby during the night adventures; turns out that he had a miserable night
as well.

We took off about 10:30 and flew through mountain passes and valleys to
Glacier Park Airport, Montana. We cleared the mountains easily and landed
at Glacier; just after a rain shower. Cool and partly cloudy…58 degrees;
it had been 100 degrees here only the day before.

We rented a car, had lunch and located a very nice log cabin at "Silver
Wolf"cabins, just outside of Hungry Horse, Montana….about five miles from
the western gate of Glacier Park.



Hot showers! The first in five days; felt good. We drove to the Park but
both of us were so tired that we came back to the cabin, after only an
hour. I drove into Hungry Horse to do the laundry. Everything is clean
now and ready for the last 4 days of our trip. Can't believe that it is
nearly over. We will get up early and visit the Park tomorrow. A day of
rest here today.

June 21, 2003

Slept in until 8:00 a.m. Well rested. Last night bobby and I played
checkers. A series of 5 games; he beat me 3 games to 2. We had not played
for 5 or 6 years. We both laughed, had fun and joked about the "checker
crown" that I had made for him, when he was 6 or 7 years old. It was a
paper thing that resembled a royal crown. When he was little; whoever won
the checker game got to wear the crown. Whenever Bobby would lose and had
to take off the crown….he would cry. He seldom lost!

We checked out of the cabin and drove again to Glacier Park. Clouds
obscured most of the tall peaks, so we missed the most spectacular views.
However we enjoyed the raging mountain rivers, water falls and walks, in
the dark forest. "Trail of the Cedars" took us deep into the trees along
a stream. Green, lush and filled with ferns; a prehistoric rain forest.
Bobby found a sharp broken arrowhead along the stream bed. There were
still "strike" marks on the arrowhead, where someone; long ago shaped the
weapon.

A snowstorm, with sleet and ice pellets stopped us for a
n hour, as we approached Logan Pass. Ice and snow! Only a few days ago we
were in the desert with 104 temperatures. What a trip!!

We took off from the airport; flying beneath broken and overcast skies. We
climbed and circled within the valley south of the airport. Up we climbed,
ever so slowly due to our heavy weight. Finally after :45 minutes of
climbing, we found a hole in the clouds and passed above them at 11,500
feet. Large valleys and gaps among the billowing clouds enabled us to turn
N/E and fly above the mountains. After only :30 of cruise we had passed
beyond the mountains and over vast open plains. The mountain range had
ended abruptly and we flew over wide, open green space. Sunny and clear we
cruised along with unlimited visibility. Outside our little winged cocoon
the air temp. was a frigid 17 degrees. We were glad to leave the mountains
behind; appreciative of our airplane's heater.

We descended to 9,500 feet, so as to breathe more easily, in the denser
air. Smooth air, unlimited visibility and a 20 mph tailwind. Every
aviator's dream.






For 200 miles flying eastward along the border, there were endless, flat,
fields of green grain; wheat I assume. They were planted in mile long
North/South directions. Alternating between each wide green strip was a
fallow, brown field of equal size and shape. For as far as one could see;
the earth was a giant pattern of green and brown stripes.

The candy striped earth eventually gave way to drier, brownish, land.
Cattle ranches every 4 or 5 miles dotted the surface. We could see watering
holes, like tiny craters, dug into the earth. Rows of trees planted on the
north and west sides of the ranch homes; to protect them from the wind and
snow. Otherwise…empty and barren land.

Once again, farther east, green, flat, land as we approach Glenora, North
Dakota; our home for the night. A little square village, of perhaps 400
people, sat alone on the prairie; nothing but treeless, flat, land for a
hundred miles in every direction. Bobby touched down in tall, soft grass.
A tiny strip of farmland; was made into a runway, barely distinguishable
from the surrounding fields.

The soil is loamy here, flat and soft; ground smoothly by the melting
glaciers of 25,000 years ago. The grass is a rich and green although thin
and wiry. We set up our camp near the airport windsock. A beautiful
sunset on the flat prairie graced our evening meal. I watched the slow
descent into a perfectly flat horizon. The orange glow remained until
after 11:00 p.m. although the sun at set at 9:06;on this… the second day of
summer….2003.

As we prepared for bed beneath a starlight sky; a cool breeze began to
blow. Sleep creeping upon us; brought the howling of a nearby pack of
coyotes

I could not have scripted it better.



June 22, 2003
7:00a.m. A bright, sunny, morning; clear and 55 degrees. Greeted by
Meadow Larks and small Mallard ducks; peaceful and serene a perfect
morning. Bobby said that my snoring kept him awake last night. First
complaint.




Only two more days. Mixed feelings. Missing Diane, but not wanting this
to end. Up at
Away to Williston, North Dakota for fuel. Next stop, International Falls,
Minnesota after a four hour flight. We flew straight along the border of
Canada for hundreds of miles. Not a change in our heading, until
intercepting the Rainey River, west of International Falls. The river was
the crooked border thereafter.





I had last flown into Intl. Falls in 1971; flying a private jet for Modern
Welding Co. The line chief said that Modern Welding still comes up here in
their Lear Jet. Nice that some things never change. Most expensive fuel
so far; $3.20 per gallon.

Bobby and I flew the loop up into "Lake of the Woods" Minnesota. It is a
strange, little piece of wooded land attached to Canada. But, it is the
property of the U.S. and northernmost point of the Continental U.S.
Wow….from New York to San Francisco; from the Florida Keys to Lake of the
Woods…in only a bit over three weeks.

The scenery here was relatively boring without significant features. The
broad flat plains of western N. Dakota turned into lumpier land dotted with
small farms. Many of the farms seemed to be abandoned or nearly so.
Northern Minnesota was heavily wooded, with many, many lakes and very
thinly populated. The most interesting scenery was the river dividing the
U.S. and Canada. Often we flew only a few hundred feet from the border.
Little Canadian farms and homes sat right on the edge of the Rainey River.
Only a few feet of water determined their nationality.

We ran into some thunderstorms near the Wisconsin state line but wiggled
around them with little difficulty. Finally Lake superior came into sight.
After 61/2 hours of flying;
we camped at Bayfield County Airport, a little grass strip, deep in the
northern Wisconsin Forest…..about 60 miles east of Duluth, Minn. As we
settled in for the night; a real character showed up. Lt. Karl Heinz
Winterscheidt; of the Wisconsin, Superior Squadron, Civil Air Patrol,
communications and public relations officer….no less!

Heinz….spoke with a heavy German accent. 60ish and overweight; he was none
the less resplendent in his C.A.P. uniform. Decked out like an Air Force
General and driving a polished red mini-van, with enough communication
equipment for a moon launch; he was a sight to behold. Although comical in
behavior; he was friendly and offered his assistance and services. Upon
departure he assured us that everything …"Vaas..bery seeecure" Dat he…."
vas just von offf de gyss" and "Dat vair are many offf vus!?!"

We both got a kick out of him. Bobby said that Heinz was "an awesome
guy!"

I sat up until midnight, watching a fantastic lightning storm, in the west.
Shortly after bed; a huge storm began. Moderate wind and rain; but
intense lightning. Afraid of being struck; after a half hour of earth
shaking lightening….we got up and sat in the airplane for an hour or so.
Back to bed about 1:30; only to have it all start up again about 3:00 a.m.
This time I said, "to hell with " and stayed in the tent. Bobby got back
into the airplane about 4:00 a.m. A miserable night; we only slept 3 or 4
hours.




June 23, 2003

The rain finally stopped around 6:30 a.m. Local pilots showed up and
visited. They said that Heinz …."drove them nuts!" I could appreciate
that but I think that the comment bothered Bobby a bit. We took off at
8:30; tired and grubby. We flew back to the shoreline of Lake Superior and
followed it to the Houghton Co. Michigan airport. There we had a
delicious home cooked breakfast at the tiny airport café.

Airborne again; following the shoreline of the Northern Michigan peninsula.
Miles of endless forest with little population. Past the beaches of Lake
Superior and the industry of Marquette, Mich. We rounded the tip at Sault
Ste. Marie….U.S and Canadian border again. Large ships ply the waters of
the Great Lakes; hauling ore, grain, timber products and oil. We flew low
over several of them. I find them fascinating.

At the far S/E tip of the peninsula; Lake Superior and LakeHuron are
connected. We flew over the water where they come together. Clear skies
and unlimited visibility led us along the northern shore of Lake Huron;
formed by the southern boundary of the northern Michigan peninsula. Soon
the island of Boise Blanc, Michigan filled our windshield. We were back to
the sight of our first camp out of 23 days ago.

It was Bobby's idea to spend our last night here. A very good idea it
turned out to be. With 700 miles to go, until home; this is a relaxing
place to rest up for our final day of flying.

Sunny, mild and dry with a light breeze; tired out we arrived at 2:30 p.m.,
set up camp and called it a day. Green grass, peace and quite surround us.
Tomorrow we cross over to Wisconsin and track down the western shoreline,
of Lake Michigan, to Chicago and Hobart, Indiana, then home. Our trip
around the nation will then be complete.

After Hobart, then a 300 mile straight shot home. We have come 14,032
miles so far. I have loved every moment of it. Bobby and I have shared so
much. He is so easy to be with; rather like his mom. We have grown more
intimate; our respect for one another has grown even deeper.

Last night over dinner I told him…."Bobby, you have been great to be with."
Before I could hardly finish my sentence, he said…."So have you dad."

Guess that about says it all!


June 24, 2003
And so our last day. Up early and airborne by 8:00a.m. Good bye to Boise
Blanc Island. We track Lake Michigan along the remaining southern
shoreline of Northern Michigan.


Then down the eastern shoreline of Wisconsin, by Chicago's Lakefront and
then home. Pretty morning. Easy last day; or so we thought. Everything
went fine until we passed Washington Island along the N/E edge of
Wisconsin. About 10 miles passed Washington Island we ran into a huge line
of thunderstorms. We turned S/E out over Lake Michigan, thinking that we
might fly south of the thunderstorms and keep on moving. But the storms
were too large and we were running low on fuel. So I decided to reverse
course and fly back to the Island; where I had notice a grass strip
airport.

Arriving over the island, a few minutes later, we found the airport covered
by a thunderstorm and we couldn't get closer than 5 miles. A small gap of
maybe 2 miles width, between thunderstorms, gave us a safe haven to circle
and wait out the storm. The wind was blowing violently from the S/W;
moving the storm away from our safe haven.

We circled low to stay out of the clouds and waited for the wind to blow
the storm away. Only a couple of hundred feet below us; 30 mph winds
whipped at an American flag, popping in the wind. Small sailboats and
cruisers bobbed wildly in the wind blown waves of the harbor below. With
little remaining fuel; I cautiously eyed the few open fields beneath our
wings; advising Bobby of my plans. Reassuring him as well as my self.

After about :10 minutes we were able to creep up to the airport. The
visibility was low, due to rain, and we had to fly only about 200 ft. above
the trees. With our flaps down: creeping at an estimated 80 mph, my GPS
tracking to the airport; Bobby saw the airport only a ½ mile out. The rain
was pouring and the winds blowing 30mph. My airspeed indicator had failed
and so we approached, without an airspeed instrument; flying by the seat of
my pants.

I plopped her down on the ground. We landed into the wind on a short grass
runway only 1,000ft.long. Whew! It took both of us to make it work. Glad
to be on the ground.

After we stood for ½ hour under a shelter, avoiding the storm; a worried
looking lady in a mini-van pulled up. "Are you O.K." she asked. "I saw
you fly by my window in the storm." "I was scared for you and I called the
Coast Guard!"

Judy and her husband Win, are artists, who spend their summer on the
island. Judy took us home; called the Coast Guard back and then cooked us
breakfast. She and Win were delightful. We talked flying(they own a
Piper) discussed art and about our families. After a couple of hours the
storm passed. Our new friends drove us back to the airport, hugged us and
bid farewell. They included an invitation to return on July 19th for the
island's annual Fish Broil/Fly In. We promised to do so. What terrific
people.



We then departed for Sturgeon Bay, Wis.for fuel; as the island had none.
It was a tense flight as we had only about :40 min.of fuel and the flight
was :28 minutes long.

We landed with barely :15 minutes of fuel. REALLY glad to be on the
ground. Too much high adventure for the last day!!

Loaded up with fuel we continued along Lake Michigan. Passed Green Bay,
Milwaukee, Racine and Chicago. A magnificent view of Chicago was had; from
1 mile out over Lake Michigan and 1,000 ft. altitude. Wow! We passed by
the closed Meig's Field Airport, the rusted steel mills of Gary, Indiana
and landed at Hobart, Indiana.

The loop was closed. Here our official trip was complete around the entire
U.S. border. 14,392 miles indicated on our GPS.

We gassed up, took pictures with Mrs. Neimeir, and launched for home. At
4:58 p.m. we touched down at Washington…..24 happy days after leaving.
Mary and Denny: Shannon, Jack and Doris Dilliard, Ryan Shidaker, Kevin and
of course Diane; greeted us with applause: cameras, handshakes, hugs and
kisses. Bobby and I were giddy with excitement and happy to be home.


A ONCE YOUNG MAN'S ….31 year old dream had come true. A young man of 16
had shared a great adventure. It was all and more than I could have ever
hoped for. Bobby and I shared a very special 24 days. We grew closer: gained new respect and deeper love. He became more of a man and I felt once again as ....boy.

The adventure has ended....the journey continues. Thank God

Summer of 2003

copyright 2003

Not quite done reading yet but am enjoying it tremendously. Reminds me of "The Cannibal Queen" by Stephen Coontz, He did a very similar trip with his young son in a Steerman.

Good job of writing, a little more detail and it could well be published work.

shane

What a great trip. I can only imagine all the stuff that didn't get into the journal. Thanks for sharing

z3skybolt wrote:This is my personal journal of the trip which Bobby and I took, during June of 2003.

I didn't catch anywhere in the early going--what type plane were you and your son flying?

Benton 19dec08

Nice post! I am looking forward to reading it all. I really appreciate folks who take the time to do stuff like this. I am too lazy, in a hurry, or just put it off until it won't come back like does when you write it fresh. Will you be posting some of your pictures and videos?

tom

Benton wrote:

z3skybolt wrote:This is my personal journal of the trip which Bobby and I took, during June of 2003.

I didn't catch anywhere in the early going--what type plane were you and your son flying?

Benton 19dec08

Benton,

It was a Maule M-5-210-C. My 16 year old did most of the flying. We still own her and have flown it over 600 hours in the last 7 years. Did a two week backcountry trip to Montana, Idaho, Wyoming and S. Dakota this past summer.

Bob

Savannah-Tom wrote:Nice post! I am looking forward to reading it all. I really appreciate folks who take the time to do stuff like this. I am too lazy, in a hurry, or just put it off until it won't come back like does when you write it fresh. Will you be posting some of your pictures and videos?

tom

Tom,

I'd love to post some of the pictures....also have tons of video. But I am nearly computer illiterate.

Bob

z3skybolt wrote:

Savannah-Tom wrote:Nice post! I am looking forward to reading it all. I really appreciate folks who take the time to do stuff like this. I am too lazy, in a hurry, or just put it off until it won't come back like does when you write it fresh. Will you be posting some of your pictures and videos?

tom

Tom,

I'd love to post some of the pictures....also have tons of video. But I am nearly computer illiterate.

Bob

I'm sure your 16 year old knows everything about computers. Maybe he can make it a high school project to make a website with your story, pics and video's . There was someone else that had a website with pics and a story about his adventure on another thread here on BCP.

Cool story--on the June 21 entry, name of the town you stayed in in probably Grenora, not Glenora.

Great story Bob! I really enjoyed reading it. It was great to do that with your son. There just is no better way to form a deeper bond than a shared adventure. May you have many more!

That was a neat diary. Thanks for sharing, I enjoyed it.

shorton wrote:Reminds me of "The Cannibal Queen" by Stephen Coontz, He did a very similar trip with his young son in a Steerman.

It brought George Erickson's 'True North' to mind for me.

http://www.amazon.com/True-North-Explor ... 845&sr=1-6

aka http://tinyurl.com/7lcuec

Benton 20dec08

z3skybolt wrote:

Savannah-Tom wrote:Nice post! I am looking forward to reading it all. I really appreciate folks who take the time to do stuff like this. I am too lazy, in a hurry, or just put it off until it won't come back like does when you write it fresh. Will you be posting some of your pictures and videos?

tom

Tom,

I'd love to post some of the pictures....also have tons of video. But I am nearly computer illiterate.

Bob

Bob,
Take a look at Google's PICASA 3

http://picasa.google.com/

with your 16 year old. Everything photo you have can be shared on a web site within minutes. Once the download is complete you copy the http bar and paste.
For example:

http://picasaweb.google.com/GreenHornet ... 621131837#

The film also can be edited and shared but that takes a little time and effort.