Here's My Version of Airplane Heaven...What's Yours?

If you've ever seen "What Dreams May Come” with Robin Williams and Annabella Sciorra, you know it's a beautiful and extravagant movie that won the 1998 Oscar for Visual Effects. But as easy as this great flick is on the eyes, it is the story that grabs your heart and refuses to let go.

So what does this movie have to do with airplanes? Great question…read on.

The movie’s premise is based on Robin’s own perception of what his heaven would look like after he dies in a car crash scene and is reunited with family that has preceded him in death. It is a living, moving Van Gogh painting, with masterfully illuminated, digitally created vistas that stretch to the edge of every frame.

Watching it took me to a place I have been often, a place I call my own Airplane Heaven. If the premise of the film is to be embraced, then we create our heaven in the image we imagine in our thoughts. I have experienced my own Airplane Heaven often, starting soon after my dad died 31 May, 1991. I have been there so many times now, the scene is etched in my mind forever.

In my Airplane Heaven, there are no Pearly gates or rivers of wine and endless tables of gourmet food, as some have suggested greet the chosen in the popular view of the storybook version of heaven. But there is an automatic gate that’s opened by keying in a series of secret numbers known only to those who are lucky enough to visit my magical place. And that river of wine…is actually an assortment of imported beer – mostly Guiness Stout and Kaliber – and the food is a combination of t-bone steaks, tacos, $100 hamburgers, organic greens and cheesecake. Those Brats the guys and gals are eating over at my never-ending Hangar Party are TWO FEET LONG, cooked on a grill so big it makes Johnsonville’s “World’s Largest Grill” look like a freakin’ hibachi.

In my Airplane Heaven, the ramp is filled with one flyable version of every airplane ever made. All are in perfect condition, gleaming under a crystal clear blue sky, keys in the ignition and the tanks full of fuel – which by the way flows freely from wells stretching to the horizon. Since this is my Heaven, I hold type ratings for everything ever made, and I get to spend my days throughout eternity making the daily decision about which of these many airplanes I get to fly today. Maybe I'll pull out the 787 or loop a few loops in Wayne Handley's Turbo Raven...the choices are truly endless.

In my Airplane Heaven, everyone is there enjoying the airport. There’s Papa Louie in his new HondaJet…and is that Art Scholl in the right seat? I suspect Art and Dad are going up again to see just how far upside down they can get that HondaJet today. Oh what, you didn't think an HA-420 was certified for aerobatics? Dude, what part of Airplane Heaven don't you GET?

And at the Airport Café (which has a tanker truck of Eugene’s luscious Café Pecori coffee out back) we find Lindbergh, sitting with Amelia and Noonan, talking navigation, no doubt. Lindy is toying with Amelia, showing her a new Garmin 796, just to screw with her head...he's like that you now, always the jokester. And check out the crowd over at Jimmy Doolittle’s hangar, gathered around his solid gold B-25. There's a juke box playing music from the 40s, and a barrel of coins next to it so the dancing never ends.

Yes, friends, if the premise of “What Dreams May Come” is to be believed, then this IS my Airplane Heaven. Only in the movie, they also visit hell, which is about as nasty as you might imagine. But what, you might be asking, is my vision of Airplane Hell?

Strangely at first glance, it appears identical to my Airplane Heaven. There before you stretch endless rows of perfectly airworthy airplanes, keys resting in the ignition. The WX is clear and a million, and you’ve got nothing to do all day but fly…after all, you’re dead, so your Daytimer is wide open.

Only one major difference…in my Airplane Hell, there is no gas. Not a drop of Avgas or Jet A to be found. All that hardware is there only to torment your soul as you stand helpless on a blistering hot ramp, awash in pity as you loathe your future, which could not possibly be less bleak. A licensed pilot could not dream up a scenario any more horrible, when off the horizon comes a low rumbling noise. The noise becomes louder, and as the skies darken with the wings of a thousand airplanes blocking out the sun, your hell becomes unbearable as all the guys from over the hill in my Airplane Heaven buzz you, one after the other, all grinning.

Yes, our world is what our thoughts make it. You can choose to live in a dark world filled with broken dreams, anger, and unsatisfied resolutions, or push on courageously to new and glorious heights.

I choose to push on – in the words of Buzz Lightyear –  to infinity, and beyond!

A Professional Pilot's Challenges forStaying Healthy While FBO Hopping

By Lynda Meeks,

Founder of Girls With Wings

For the Airplanista Aviation Blog

Hmmm, should I order the lobster pasta? The seasoned strip steak with new potatoes? Or perhaps the chicken cordon bleu….? Yes, my pants felt a bit tight this morning, but they seem to be loose enough now…  And I did work out this morning.…

I was a skinny kid, but in college managed to put on not the freshman 15, but the freshman 50. My weight fluctuated constantly after that, and despite seven years in the military doing PT, or physical training, my weight seldom got below what the army said I should weigh. I had to do a “tape test” to determine I wasn’t overweight. It wasn’t until I didn’t have someone telling me to drop a few pounds that I got my weight under control and started working out for the fun of it.

Before my furlough, I did my best to stay in shape, which wasn’t always easy given the deliciousness and variety of inflight catering that comes with being a pilot for a fractional airline. Long cross country flights in the Citation X just called for passing the time up in the cockpit eating slow leisurely meals, which had been ordered via my company’s blackberry tool for menu selection.

Regional menus provided crab cakes in the Cape, Jambalaya in the Delta, Tex-Mex in the desert southwest, and pretty much a wide enough variety of standard fare to tempt any palate. However, because it is true that if a pilot isn’t complaining you should check for a pulse, quarterly revisions to the menu didn’t seem like often enough when you ate often 40 or so of the meals per month. At the issuance of the new menus every three months we were relieved to try something new.

My cooking skills have always been marginal. After preparing a meal at home I often wonder if it is a blessing I’m single so I don’t have to share my concoctions with a  family or if I’m single just because word has gotten out about my ineptitude in the kitchen. Either way, it was hard to say no to the more than generous portions of food that were secreted into the “crew closet” before every flight. This was a far FAR cry from my days flying for the regional airlines. Crew schedules did not have time built in between flights for obtaining sustenance sufficient for flying the mighty Beech 1900 in and out of the PIT hub. Often we’d have an ungodly long break between the first two legs and it was all we could do to keep up on the next six. Meals were either brought along in a cooler or purchased by inserting the mere coinage we were paid to do such a job into vending machines.

That all changed when I moved on to the fractionals, which I consider the best flying job there is. Pilots are treated better because they are the face of the company to the owners. Some of these meals were suitable for gifts, with vegetables cut into flowers and fancy condiments. Other meals were provided by the local deli and not much more than sandwiches wrapped in grease stained paper but just as delicious. If warming them up was necessary, by the way, it was accomplished by a short sit above the dash in the sun.

Although I usually chose the vegetarian meals because they were lower in fat and calories, most desserts were the same with any meal. Decadent, rich, football player sized portions of brownies, cheesecake and other sweets were the norm.  Add this to the food that passengers left behind (most often left with the rampers at the FBO – but sometimes, uh, not), there were many more calories in than calories out. Snacks of FBO cookies and popcorn added to the damage.

With my week on/week off schedule, I usually spent the 7 days off starving myself in preparation for another round of gourmet dining a la my lap. One thing that I eventually found out helped on the road was a simple trick. I carried apples with me and any time I was tempted to crack open one of those meals or eat one of those cookies; I told myself I could after I ate an apple. If I didn’t want to eat the apple, I knew I wasn’t hungry and I was tempted to eat that other food for all the wrong reasons.

Working out on the road was not always easily accomplished either. Most days start before the sun comes up and end after sunset. Motivating yourself to visit the hotel’s fitness center before or after a 14 hour duty day was one thing. As a runner, I usually preferred to explore the terrain surrounding the hotel for my exercise. So motivating myself to explore unfamiliar territory via foot was quite another. Especially in the dark or cold. Thanks to www.MapMyRun.com, I usually round a suitable route to accomplish some weight gain avoidance duties. 

Note: in order to decrease the risk to my bodily self, I would check in with the desk and tell them where I was going and when I expected to be back. Some clerks showed more concern than others. However, I figured if I didn’t show up for a flight this would be a nugget of information helpful to my recovery.

By far the best runs were not on any map. At the top of any list is the dirt path through the woods (Atlanta, GA), followed closely by a paved path through said vegetation (Minneapolis, MN). It helps to have a knowledgeable, like minded front desk clerk to clue you in to these secrets. I remember a clerk in Charleston, SC, who swore up and down there was nowhere to run around the hotel despite there being a promenade along the riverfront. Once I got to the promenade I stumbled upon bike trails that ran through the woods for miles!  Other running routes could be found by asking other visiting pilots like the route around the ___  or as I like to call them, “swamps,” near our hotel in Teterboro, NJ.

I’m not averse to running through the neighborhoods nearby but caution must be exercised here as well. Especially when Cujo decides you’ve gotten a little too close to their fence. Good thing running strengthens your heart for the times that it stops suddenly and accelerates even more abruptly. Staying in a big city often dictates runs based on a grid system, which does tend to simplify finding your way back. To pass the time I would listen to my mp3 player which also has a radio function. I could usually find an NPR station so I could catch up on the news at the same time I worked up a sweat.

Worst of all was staying in a place with none of the above. Chattanooga, TN, stands out in my mind as a place where I most often had to jump into the grass on the side of a two lane road with no shoulder. I don’t know if the drivers tried to push me off the road because they thought I had no business being there or they were too preoccupied thinking, “What in the world is that girl doing?” to realize how close they were coming to my right thigh (I always run facing traffic).  Not all threats have two legs or four wheels. A friend of mine was running in Orlando, FL, and swore he came within a few feet of an alligator. He ran as fast as he could back to the hotel room, not stopping til the door slammed behind him.

Most of the time I went out with no particular destination, counting on my sense of direction to get me back. This didn’t often work, as a run in Brunswick, GA, soon taught me. Located on a small island, I set off in the morning with about an hour and a half available for a run. I picked up the road to the right, figuring once I got even with the hotel on the other side of the island I would cut back over. A couple miles into it, I started to feel like I had lost my bearings so I stopped and asked a local which way the hotel was. Unfortunately, just like a VFR pilot doesn’t trust their instruments when faced with inadvertent IMC conditions, I disregarded her bearing pointer and kept running.

About an hour into the run, I had NO idea where I was, but, heck, I was on an island, how bad could it be? As long as my feet stayed dry, and I kept going counterclockwise, I had to arrive back to the hotel eventually, right? Then I started getting worried. My watch told me it was time to be taking a shower and getting ready to go to the airport. Luckily I came across an open business and asked again which direction to head. The last few miles were run about as fast as I had energy left and I didn’t delay the flight.

Most runs weren’t this dramatic. I ran in all kinds of weather, all over the country, and miss those days now that I am furloughed. I am now forced to run the same routes around my neighborhood over and over and have gotten to where I’m only running about three miles every other day and I miss it.

A Decision Has Been Made to Cease Publication

By Dan Pimentel,
Airplanista Magazine Editor/Founder

After 14 months of producing Airplanista Magazine’s online monthly edition, and with plenty of reflection, it has been decided that the continued production of the magazine will be impossible at this time.

My day job as President and Art Director of Celeste Daniels Advertising and Design, Inc. took a positive step forward recently when we picked up another large performing arts client, one that will demand more of my attention going forward into 2012 and beyond. With this new work, I will no longer have the 100 to 120 hours per month required to produce a magazine that while fun to create, generated insufficient income.

I want to personally thank each and every contributor who supplied their art and their words each month to support Airplanista Magazine’s mission of strengthening the general aviation community. It's my belief that as a team, we produced a very nice magazine that brought our readers something enjoyable in their inbox each month.

For those of you who enjoy my writing, I'll still be publishing more of my signature "sometimes serious, sometimes humorous, always unpredictable" material on the Airplanista Aviation Blog. Yes, it IS the blog you are presently reading, so go ahead and bookmark this blog by using the SHARETHIS button below:

We will also present the writing of some Featured Writers, many of which have been previously published in our online monthly editions.

The takeaway: I've been a successful freelance writer through parts of five decades, and I'm not going away. While this post might look to some like an end, to me, it feels more like a beginning. I hope to leverage the contacts I've made these last 14 months to seek out a few quality writing projects that I believe will make a difference in our GA world. I still have plenty to give back to our aviation family, and with my words, I still have work to do, things to say, and with a little luck, lives to change.

I thank you for the opportunity to present Airplanista Magazine to you, and hope you enjoyed the ride.

EAA 1457: A Little Bit of Oshkosh Every Month

Bill McWhorter and his 2005 Quicksilver

I've made six trips to the gigantic airplane party that the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA) throws each July on the shores of Lake Winnebago. Each time I step onto the grounds of Wittman Regional Airport after it has been transformed into a glistening wonderland of aviation goodness, I'm reminded that as aviators, we need to occasionally adhere to certain unwritten rules.

There are responsibilities every licensed pilot should strive to accomplish as part of holding the ticket and enjoying the freedom to fly we have earned. These things should be etched on a giant stone slab at show center in Oshkosh, for all to see. And while the items that this list contains might include the obvious, like the instruction to take plenty of kids flying, at the top of this sacred list of commandments shall be this decree:

Be it resolved that all humans who have earned the privileges therein appointed to holders of a Sport or Private Pilot license granted by the Federal Aviation Administration shall upon issuance of said ticket become paid members of both EAA and AOPA.

Yes, I believe these two organizations are that important. If not for the advocacy work EAA and AOPA does in Washington defending our flying privileges, we the people with yokes or sticks in our paws would have very little chance of arguing our case on The Hill. I include NBAA in this group as well, their work cannot be ignored in this conversation, but membership in their organization is not always a perfect fit for the Average Joe or Jane piston pilot.

Up until last month, I was nailing one half of that decree. Not kidding here, in 1996, I actually placed my AOPA wings in the back window of my truck’s cab in the parking lot of the FBO where I have just passed my private check ride. Being an AOPA member is that important to me. Despite being a paid member for months, I literally would not place the wings on my truck until I had passed the check and earned the license.

But while I've been a devoted AOPA member for 16 years, I had never signed up as an EAA member. Maybe it was my lack of mechanic’s skills, but I assumed (incorrectly) that EAA was primarily all about building experimental flying machines. That changed recently when I went to my very first meeting of EAA Chapter 1457 at Mahlon Sweet Field (KEUG) where my Cherokee 235 is based. The fact that I was based at this field for years and did not even KNOW it had an EAA chapter does not speak well of the almost non-existent pilot community at my home field:

EAA 1457 meets at the Oregon Air & Space Museum, and the group of pilots in the club are right out of central casting. Nearly all of them is now building or has built some sort of experimental plane, with a few exceptions. Meeting inside a giant hangar full of aviation artifacts, EAA 1457 is made up of the kind of aviators you will find at AirVenture, They are devoted to flying, extremely jovial, always welcoming to fellow aviators, and willing to give you their tools with a smile. With these guys, their beer is your beer. Need an engine hoist? Don’t go buy one, just ask the guys sitting on either side of you at an EAA meeting, and watch them coordinate to make sure the hoist gets to your hangar or home. At this meeting, you’ll learn miniscule factoids about building airplanes that to non-aviators might seem mundane. How many times can you really talk about rivets? Attend a few EAA meetings, and you’ll learn that rivetology and the discussion of fasteners in general are not only acceptable chatter, it’s somehow a requirement - someone MUST talk about rivets before the meeting can be adjourned.

At a recent meeting of EAA 1457, one pilot who did not talk about rivets was Bill McWhorter, who educated the room about Ultralights, and in particular, the joys of flying his 2005 Quicksilver Sprint. The Quicksilver is powered by a two-stroke, twin cylinder, Austrian-made Rotax 447 engine making all of 40 HP, and has conventional 3-axis controls. We learned it stalls at about 20 MPH, cruises in the low 30s, and has rarely seen 50 MPH.

For a room full of fixed wing guys – some who fly Lancairs – hearing McWhorter describe his adventures in (on?) the Quicksilver was very, very interesting because few if any in the crowd had any experience with Ultralights. McWhorter said this:

“I have flown the entire Oregon coast and most of the Willamette Valley over several trips from Daniels Field just east of Eugene, and to Diamond Peak and Crater Lake as well. For these longer trips, my wonderful wife follows in the car with extra gas. My tank holds about five gallons, which is good for about 75 miles, and I can carry a plastic container with another five gallons to refill at stops. I’ve also trailered the Quicksilver to Mt. Shasta, Alvord Desert/Steens Mountains, the Three Sisters area, the Crooked River Gorge, and all over Wallowa Range.”

The presentation was very well received, and we all learned something new. After watching amazingly graceful videos shot as the Quicksilver effortlessly meandered low and very slow south down the gorgeous Oregon Pacific coastline, McWhorter set up the final video of the evening:

“My wife and I plus our dog trailered the Quicksilver from Eugene and camped on the Alvord Desert, a dry lake bed below the Steens Mountains south of Burns, Oregon. The lake bed is over 4,000 ft. in elevation, and the Steens are almost 10,000 ft. For these high-altitude flights, I change the main jet on the carburetor. The flights were less than one hour each, and during one video run, the "bounce" off the lake bed seen in the video was intentional.”

Watching the video above makes me want to run out and buy a Quicksilver. This is amazing footage, shot as McWhorter hand-held the camera, producing a really REALLY dramatic shadow effect. I have never seen anything like it, a few minutes of aviation video bliss that is not possible from anything other than an Ultralight.

Yes, I am glad to now be EAA, and to have a generous dose of Oshkosh to enjoy each month is priceless. The camaraderie is there at the EAA Chapter 1457 meetings, and so is the wall-to-wall aviation fellowship. All that is missing is the World’s Largest Grill with a couple thousand Brats sizzling in the late July sun.

Aussie Airplanista: Great Food and Scenery at Mungo Lodge

By Kathy Mexted
For Airplanista Aviation Blog

Having mentioned Mungo Lodge in her last article for Airplanista, Kathy Mexted decided to go and check it out for herself. She found a great airstrip, beautiful accommodation and the best roast duck in Australia.

Expansive scene near Australia's Mungo Lodge

It’s 6.30am on a late September morning. The Australian spring is underway, and from the wide deck of my room at the Mungo Lodge, I am watching the sunrise across the red soil of the Australian bush. Shards of pink and purple shoot across the low level cloud and cast a soft glow on the wing of the Bonanza parked about 50 meters away. A cool breeze rustles through the eucalyptus trees and a few of the early birds continue warbling, perhaps content with their catch. This place is ruggedly beautiful, and having overflown it about 13 years ago, I have always wanted to return and stay.

This year I’m getting reacquainted with my flying past, and to gain currency I’ve gathered three friends – a commercial pilot and two earthlings -- for a quick outback hit. Perhaps now one of the most appealing things is that the airstrip is only 100 meters from the 4 star restaurant!

World Heritage Listed Lake Mungo has been dry for over 15,000 years. Since the discovery of the 40,000 year old human remains of “Mungo Woman” in 1968 and “Mungo Man” in 1974, the location has been established as one of Australia’s most important archaeological sites.

Great Wall of China, near Mungo Lodge

The eastern side of Lake Mungo has a 29km long wall of sand, “The Great Wall of China” which is moved by the wind about 1-3 meters eastwards every year. With the enormous rain event last southern summer, deep gullies up to 8 feet high and 4 feet wide formed in some parts of the wall. It has also set the desert alive with flowers and vegetation and washed up new fossils and artifacts. The Lake and its environs are National Park, and include an extensive visitors centre and a beautiful historic shearing shed.

The jewel in the crown of this location is the Lake Mungo Guest Lodge, which is owned by Indigenous Business Australia (IBA). The Lodge celebrates its 20th birthday this November, and only three years ago had a complete makeover. With its high-pitched roof, highly polished spotted gum floors, open fireplace, bar, and outdoor dining deck, there is little to deter the weary traveler from settling in. In fact, I could have stayed a lot longer! 

Jacques and Catherine Barichard

In a stroke of luck, the managers are a French couple, Jacques and Catherine Barichard, who had already fallen in love with Australia and its outback by the time they visited Mungo in 2009. “I’d always wanted to come out to Mungo, and so I said to Catherine that we should go back to Australia for a holiday. We got here when the lodge had just reopened and there was a vacancy for a manager.” They’ve now been here for three years, building the business and garnering a strong reputation, not only for the standard of the accommodation, but the splinteringly great food.

Jacques and Catherine brought with them the best of French hospitality and cuisine know-how and it quickly became obvious that not only were we in one of Australia’s best outback locations only 90 minutes north of Melbourne, we'd struck amazing chefs. While I drank in my roast duck, which was melting off the bone, we congratulated ourselves on this fantastic find.

Mungo Lodge Dining Room

So, all this is great news for aviators. Jacques and Catherine are aviation enthusiasts, and welcomes pilots – on their own, in groups, staying for the week, or just passing through for lunch. And lunch is quite possible, because of the short flight time from Melbourne. Anybody flying in receives a 10% discount on accommodation. There has already been over 100 light planes arrive this year.

The 2009 makeover included a freshen-up on the airstrip as well. A cross strip was added, and from the air it was easy to spot the runways, each with a large pleasing turning circle at each end. The runways are maintained weekly. We sure had no trouble in the Bonanza, and taxied to the parking bay from where we walked about 100 meters across to the Lodge.

Mungo Lodge is a desirable destination for Aussie GA pilots

By 3.30pm, a minivan had arrived and Lake Mungo’s version of Crocodile Dundee greeted us with a big broad outback smile. Trevor Hancock has been living and working in outback Australia for 40 years, and for ten years has run his unique tour company MurrayTrek 4wd Adventures. “Look out for the chooks,” he jibed as we slowed to allow a passing emu cross the road. (Chook is Australian slang for a chicken or rooster. The emu’s are quite a bit larger than a chook!) We toured the Great Wall of China, stopping to inspect artifacts and places of note, before settling down on the pink sands to take in the sunset. The dead flat views from the sand dunes stretch to the horizon, punctuated only by the occasional grazing kangaroo. The space and quiet is like a tonic for the soul, and it is these open skies, unpolluted by artificial light, that inspire stargazing at the Lodge. “Sometimes we turn off the lights at the Lodge and loan the guests our telescope and high powered binoculars to observe the billions of stars in the “Milky Way,” says Jacques.

The unique cross runway configuration at Mungo Lodge

Not far from Mungo is the Darling River, and Trevor, a keen fisherman, enjoys taking visitors there. “I can cook the fish for them on the riverbank. I’ve got all the gear in my truck,” he enthused. “I can take groups or individuals for a picnic, paddle boat rides, bushwalking, sightseeing, whatever.” His last trip was up to Cape York in the far north reaches of Queenslands tropics, and by the time you read this he’ll have just returned from Western Australia. It seems there’s no part of Australia that’s too far flung, and while the distances seemed quite incredible to us aviators, Trevor shudders and says, “I’ve never been in a plane. I’m scared of flying.” I replied, “That’s ok. I’m scared of snakes. We’ll get on well.” But nobody was scared of birds, and as we settled in for dinner back at the Lodge, we eyed the telescope and the bird list. If you can entice the host to sit still for 20 minutes, he can give you a complete rundown of all the local birds splashing happily in the birdbaths under the freshly collected rainwater.

The eco friendly Lodge aims for minimal environmental disturbance. Presumably the recycled water will be used to water the partially completed golf course. Jacques smiled as he discussed his folly, and pouring us a glass of local wine, we acknowledged the benefits of golf, but were secretly more excited at having a knowledgeable French man in charge of the wine list.

Although it was a revelation to me, Mungo Lodge has long been a favorite meeting place for Aussie aviators. It’s hoped that game will soon be on the menu, so by the time you get here they might be cooking ‘roo. Or is that a roux?

The girls have just arrived back with my breakfast. The Bonanza is eyeing me from the strip. “Hurry up,” it says. “I’m coming,” I reply. “Just let me finish my home-made freshly-cooked melt-in-the-mouth croissant.” There’s more to the Aussie outback than just red dirt, and some of it is easily accessible in an airplane.

You can listen to Kathy's podcast on Plane Crazy Down Under about her outback trip to Lake Mungo and Wilpena Pound.

A Quest to Achieve the Highest Darwin Award

By Dan Pimentel, Airplanista Editor

What is it with some people and balloons?

I am not talking about licensed hot air balloon pilots who are serious about adhering to FAA regulations, or those who build and pilot airships, which I know are technically not “balloons” but somewhat related.

No, I’m talking about people who strap themselves to a lawn chair held aloft by a cluster of balloons and blast off freestyle to somewhere, or wannabe reality TV buffoons who build a fake spaceship in their backyard, launch it skyward and then call every media market in the country screaming frantically that their kid is trapped inside.

In 2008, Oregon resident Kent Couch successfully “flew” a lawn chair from Bend, Oregon to Idaho, emulating infamous flying chair pioneer “Lawnchair” Larry Walters who “flew” a lawn chair at 16,000’ MSL through busy Los Angeles airspace in 1982.

Couch is part of the under-reported sport of Cluster Ballooning, a fringe element of aviators who many seem to think go rogue across the sky, commanding a leisurely craft void of contact with anyone. But a few Cluster Balloonists like Jonathan Trappe are as serious about aviation as anyone reading this post:

Trappe is an FAA certified pilot, with a specific rating for Lighter-Than-Air: Free Balloons. In addition, Trappe has completed specific gas balloon training and has flown under multiple lighter-than-air gasses. All flights are conducted in strict compliance with all Federal Aviation Regulations, and the FAA is always contacted before a cluster balloon launch. Working extensively with the FAA, Trappe has been issued an airworthiness certificate for one of his cluster systems, N878UP. Safety equipment in flight includes two-way aircraft radios, altitude encoding transponder, aviator’s breathing oxygen, pilot parachute, gps, and emergency locator beacon.

But while Trappe’s flights have been primarily sane, Couch’s next lawn chair aviation adventure can only be called reckless. EAA has the details...and really, what could possibly go wrong here?

Next week, Kent “The Balloon Man” Couch will attempt to set a Guinness World Record for cluster ballooning by flying in tandem (two lawn chairs) over Iraq with self-described Iraqi extreme sports enthusiast/daredevil Fareed Lafta. Plans are to use 300 balloons for the November 15 launch from Baghdad’s Green Zone, and the pair plans to remain aloft for 24 hours. During that time they’ll aim for an altitude of 25,000 feet MSL while traveling more than 600 miles.

Yes, you read that right...not Idaho...IRAQ. 

Of all the places on this planet to prove to the world you are a skilled lawn chair driver, I would think Baghdad, Iraq would be possibly the worst choice to launch from. It’s as if Couch put a request into the people who pass out the Darwin Awards, asking for a sure-fire way to achieve their “Worst. Idea. Ever!” Award. But even Couch has been publicly wondering if this stunt might be over the top as he questioned the challenges he faced in this Los Angeles Times story:

The biggest challenge now, Couch told Oregon television station KTVZ, is to make sure that winds don't push him off course. "The fear is if we drift to Iran, which is only about 85 miles from Baghdad," he said. "We would just have to come back down, because I'm not going to gamble being in Iran for very long."

Yeah, it’s a pretty safe bet that accidentally floating folding yard furniture into Iranian airspace is a really, really, REALLY bad idea. Just ask Sarah Shourd, Shane Bauer and Joshua Fattal.

One challenging element of trying to “fly” any sort of furniture held in thin air by party balloons inside Iraq is that when it’s time to descend, one needs to use some sort of gun to shoot out the balloons to lose lift and begin the descent. Since Couch has to fly commercially into Baghdad, bringing along the BB gun traditionally used by cluster balloonists for the task would be problematic, to say the least. In numerous interviews though, it seems Couch and Lafta have this part covered in their quest for the Darwin Award’s highest honor:

Lafta said Couch would not try to ship a BB gun to shoot out balloons for landings, because he figured it would not get past baggage inspectors. “If you need guns, we've got lots of them here in Iraq,” Lafta said.

Which, by the way IS THE PROBLEM!

But in the interest of trying to stay positive, I will assume nobody packing automatic weaponry on the ground in Iraq will have a problem with an American floating over their ghetto underneath a canopy of colorful, happy spheres made in the good old U.S of A. How could they possibly have issues with so much in-your-face glee and untethered freedom? No, I’m sure they will rejoice, and we all have seen what it looks like when people in that part of the world rejoice. They will all pile into the back of a Toyota pick-up and begin firing those automatic weapons in celebration, wasting hundreds of rounds of perfectly good ammunition as they fire with aimless abandon into the sky.

Hopefully that airspace will not be the same exact piece of sky that Couch and his chair will be floating through at that precise moment in time.

Some Pilots Rock Their Wings, This Pilot Rocks the House! - Interview with Zepparella's Gretchen Menn

By Dan Pimentel
Airplanista Blog Editor

A few years ago while enjoying the annual Eugene (Oregon) Celebration downtown, I heard a blast from my past crashing down an alleyway between two buildings. You see, I was lucky enough to have been at the very last Led Zeppelin concert in the U.S. on July 24, 1977 at the Oakland Coliseum, so I knew the band was no longer around. But I was stopped in my tracks by the booming sound of Zeppelin’s “Lemon Song” tantalizing my eardrums.

Like moth to flame, I was drawn down the alley, to an outdoor stage where a ridiculously cool all-female band was playing Led Zeppelin the way it was meant to be played. The band was Zepparella, and they were doing justice to the music of Plant, Page, Bonham and Jones. The lead singer was KILLING with a voice that was as soulful and aggressive as one needs to be in order to do Plant right. But what knocked me out was the lead guitarist, who was channeling Jimmy Page but playing in her own style that was, to me, just as entertaining.

I came home and immediately wrote to thank them for the Eugene show, and in that conversation, found out that the lead guitar player, Gretchen Menn, happened to be a pilot and Certified Flight Instructor. And not just a regular GA stick like me, but a professional pilot who had on her resume many hours flying regional jets for Continental Airlines.

This begged the question: How does a line pilot go from the flight deck of a commercial airliner to blowing away audiences in a touring rock band? So I posed that and a few other questions to Menn, and what follows is her reply. I guarantee that if you stop reading right now, you’ll miss the story of one of the hardest rocking aviators you will have “met” in a while.

Airplanista Magazine: Describe what prompted you get interested in flying, when you got your license, planes you have flown, additional ratings, and what you’ve done in your flying career.
Gretchen Menn: My decision to start flying was the result of a natural love of pulling G’s. I have always adored roller-coasters, and am one of the rare people who actually thinks turbulence is kind of fun. My first year in college, the local airport put up flyers around campus offering discounts to students--$99 for three lessons. Incidentally, this happened to fall during the week that I had become obsessed with the Pink Floyd song, “Learning to Fly.” It quickly became evident that flying was too expensive of a hobby for a college student, so I put it on the back burner, and just went up occasionally. When I graduated a year early with a degree in music, though, I started thinking about what my next step would be. I felt that I owed myself an additional year of education, and saw flying as a fun, challenging, and completely separate career from music. Moreover, a complementary career would shelter my passion for music from the necessity of making a living at it. I graduated from college, went directly to flight school, and within a year got my private, instrument, commercial, multi-engine ratings, CFI, CFII, and MEI, and started teaching right away. After one year of instructing, I was hired by Continental Express to fly the ERJ (145 and 135), but left when I realized there was no way of making music the priority in my life that it needed to be.

Airplanista Magazine: So my readers can make the connection between your music and flying, tell me what kind of flying you get to do now.
Gretchen Menn: After leaving the airlines, I went back to flight instructing part-time, but am now pretty much full-time music. Unfortunately, I rarely get up in the air now, though I keep renewing my CFI!

Airplanista Magazine: Tell me how you got involved with music, what age, what instruments.
Gretchen Menn: I took the requisite piano lessons when I was about five, studied flute for 3 years when I was in elementary school/middle school, and got into guitar in late high school. I started studying guitar my first year of college.

Airplanista Magazine: How did the idea of forming Zepparella come about?
Gretchen Menn: Clementine, the drummer of Zepparella, and I were in an AC/DC tribute band together. We wanted to play more shows that the other band members, and to take on new musical challenges. On the way to a gig one night, Clem and I were driving together, and she said she’d always wanted to do a Zeppelin tribute band. I said, “I’m in! Where do I sign up?”

Airplanista Magazine: I’m usually not a big fan of tribute bands. But yours is not a tribute band, right?
Gretchen Menn: Zepparella aims to pay tribute in a way that is more all-encompassing than the just the literal rendition of a Led Zeppelin show. It’s like the concept of obeying the letter of the law versus the spirit--we strive to honor the spirit of Led Zeppelin as well as the music. So, that means I learn Jimmy’s riffs and solos as note-for-note I can hear them, and I do study the details, but I don’t mimic his moves on stage. We don’t wear wigs. We do improvise when it’s appropriate--not to improvise would ignore an enormous component of Zeppelin and what they were about. It’s a balancing act between the letter and the spirit.

Airplanista Magazine: This is one question I have always wanted to ask a professional musician...when you have to fly commercial airlines to a gig, how to you ship/transport your equipment?
Gretchen Menn: Oh, I could really go off here. I have a major issue with how the airlines deal with musical equipment, and I’ve made many a phone call to tell different airlines that whichever airline would implement an instrument-friendly policy would have a stranglehold on musicians as customers. Even with crew tags on my guitar, I found my case horribly abused after one flight on my own airline! So, I make it a point to fly Southwest, as their 737s have plenty of room in the overheads for a guitar. I make it a point to be in the A boarding group, and to never, never be rude to a gate agent or flight attendant. They are the people who determine whether you get to carry on your precious instrument. I also have good cases in the event of the horror, the horror of having to check something, and insurance for the worst-case-scenario.

Airplanista Magazine: Back to flying. I’m guessing you’re an aviator at heart. Do you miss the flight deck of a commercial airliner?
Gretchen Menn: I’m an aviator at heart, yes, but I’m not pining particularly for the flight deck. I am less attached to the equipment than to just finding the opportunity to play in the air. Airline flying is, of necessity, pretty sterile, and I am probably cut out more for aerobatics. The ERJ was a pretty slick plane, though.

Airplanista Magazine: When you are on the road with the band, do you ever get to spend any quality time at smaller GA airports just hanging out? Do you ever rent aircraft in different parts of the country just for sightseeing?
Gretchen Menn: Not so far, though I have taught instrument ground lessons on the phone before soundcheck!

While not a musician myself, I can promise anyone who loves Zeppelin’s music one thing: If you go here and learn about Zepparella, watch their Youtube videos here and then go find one of their shows, you will not be one tiny bit disappointed. The ladies of Zepparella present a classy stage show with enough shaking, rattling, rolling and swiveling hips to satisfy their audiences.

And if you’re at an outdoor concert venue some day listening to Zepparella and you see their lead guitar player staring up into the sky watching as a plane flies overhead towards the horizon, at least now you’ll know the reason why.

Learn more about Gretchen’s solo career at gretchenmenn.com or sample Zepparella’s smokin’ hot sound at zepparella.com.