<img src="http://www.backcountrypilot.org/gallery/albums/userpics/10110/normal_Teenie.jpg" align="right">Here's the plane I built-It was a Calvin Parker Teenie Two. One Young Son is standing on the wing. It took ten years to build. All aluminum, VW powered, single seat so you have to learn real quick how to fly it. My first, last and only flight came in Sept 2001. The exact day is not important. After doing taxi tests and rearranging the static port so the airspeed didn't increase with rpm it was time. With a little over an hour on the hobbs, this is it. Lined up on 16 gave it the throttle. Little bit of a crosswind but she tracks straight so at 60 mph I pull the nose up and she is flying. Straight down the runway. Accelerates like she was shot out of a cannon. About half way down the runway I pull the throttle for the first landing. Nose high, the mains hit and then the nose. Rolling out I notice the right side collapse and the wing tip appears to be dragging on the runway. I give it all the left rudder it had and it looked to me like the speed was bleeding off and it would just stop. I felt the nosegear collaspe and saw the individual prop blades dig into the runway. I felt the tail raise but thought it would just settle back down on the runway. Wrong-o. It flipped. With me in it. I smell gas. 350 lbs plus my own body weight is bending my neck over to the point I can't breathe. So this is how it ends. I struggle to un buckle my seatbelt. I finally get it but I'm trapped in an aluminum coffin I made for myself. Damm I'm mad (palindrome). I wasn't quite done living yet. My lungs are burning and I can't do shit. The next thing I remember I'm trying to find the hospital, driving around Spanish Springs in my Jimmy. I called my wife to find out which hospital to go to. She can't remember either so she puts me on hold. I just keep driving around, completely lost in an area I lived in for 15 years. I end up back at the airport with a six-pack! Joe Durossueu suggests we remove the wreckage from the middle of the runway so he and my brother in law do. My bro in law got the plane off me by himself Never did make it to the hospital. I took my boy back a few days later. He found the wheel collar that holds the right wheel on laying on the runway about half way....

Damn, Dave!! That sounds like a Bible story. He worked on his craft for ten long years, and it was destroyed in one long moment. Glad you made it out of that one. So who dubbed you "SuperDave?" The Spanish Springs cronies? And what finally brought you to the world of certified aircraft?

I wrote a song, it goes like this:

Teenie Two rollin' down the strip
Wheel fell off and the dam thing flipped

To that USMC marching tune.

My partner nicknamed me Superdave about 15 years ago after Mr. Osborn on Showtime. There are many Superdave stories best discussed with mass quantities of beer or hooch.

I was always interested in aviation. I started with U-control then RC then hang gliders then ultralights then experimental and then one day in 1994 I was fixing a copy machine at a machine shop in Sparks and saw a picture of an early 182. The guy said it was for sale so I went and looked at it at Jet West. Ended up trading some land at Davis Lake and a copier for the airplane. 5897B was the tail number which I changed to 659SuperDave. So I've been working on her for over ten years now and recently have been flying for pleasure. Last year I put almost 600 hours on her. The airframe has over 6000 hrs of which I put 3000 of those on. Flew down to Central America and up to Alaska. All over Mexico from Baja to Cancun. Great fun