After rebuilding the Pietenpol following my forced landing, I got it flying agin in June 2005. I managed to finish flying off the 25 hour test flight period about a week before I had to leave for the big
Pietenpol fly-in at Brodhead, Wisconsin, followed by the EAA Convention at Oshkosh.
I loaded the plane with all my camping gear, mounted my Garmin GPSmap 196 GPS and got ready to go.

Thursday, July 21st - Around 8 AM I left Sanford, NC (longer runway than at my home base of Cox Field, necessary for the large amount of weight I was carrying with full fuel and 65 lbs of gear). First leg was 2-1/2
hours to Blacksburg, VA, where Karen's mother met me with a bag of sandwiches and peanut M&M's. Landed in the rain at Blacksburg and didn't like the looks of the clouds I was going to have to fly around
and under on the next leg, but pressed on.

The second leg started from Blacksburg and involved flying over a series of ridges that ranged up to 4400' above sea level. The plane can climb that high (although loaded as it was my best rate of climb would only
produce about 200 feet per minute of climb), but the problem was the
clouds were often lower than that, so I had to pick my way around the clouds and the peaks of the mountains. At one point I was facing a long ridge that was 4400' high, the base of the clouds was at 4500', I was at about 4,000' and climbing as well as I could, and I was losing 500 feet per minute in a downdraft. I never did make it over that ridge, instead electing to follow the valleys around it even though that added several
miles to the trip. GPS is wonderful for allowing you to deviate from your course and still find your way back on course. After about 2 hours of flying (it seemed longer than that), much of it in light rain, I finally made it to Braxton County, WV and knew that the highest terrain was behind me at that point.

The third leg, from Braxton County, WV to New Philadelphia, OH started out with more excitement than I care to enjoy. Braxton County has a 4,000' runway and the field elevation is only 1200' above sea level. Unfortunately, it was 91 degrees, and the barometric pressure was low, so the density altitude was over 3,300' (the airplane would perform as if the field were at 3300' on a 60 degree day with normal pressure). I
got off the ground fairly quickly, in about 500', but the plane simply wouldn't climb. By the time I got to the end of the runway I was still only about 25 feet high and was facing a 200 foot hill less than a quarter of a mile away. There was no question about whether or not I
might clear the top of the hill - instead I could predict "I will impact right about - there!". The runway was lined with trees whose tops were higher than I was, but near the end of the runway I found a gap between the trees so I turned left and flew between the trees for a few hundred yards until I could climb over the treetops. Then I suddenly flew over
the edge of a cliff and looked down into a beautiful river valley over Sutton Lake, on the Elk River. The valley was big enough for me to circle in and by the time I had made three laps around the valley I was high enough to clear the hills and proceeded on my course. An hour of flying brought me to the Ohio River and I felt like I had it made at that point. I did have to dodge a small but intense rain shower shortly after I got into Ohio, but had no more trouble from that point. An hour after crossing into Ohio I arrived at New Philadelphia, OH and landed, tired but happy.

I relaxed for a while at New Philadelphia (my butt was beginning to get sore), and then climbed in for the last leg to Cleveland. For the first time on the whole trip there was actually somebody there who knew how to hand prop an airplane so I didn't have to start it myself. I had become pretty adept at picking out just the right size rocks to use as wheel
chocks - big enough to hold it at idle, but small enough that I could hop over them when I was ready to go. Anyway, the leg from New Philadelphia to Cleveland was only an hour and a half or so, and blissfully easy, with only some light turbulence to mar an otherwise
perfect flight. I arrived over Columbia Station airport about 5:30 PM and circled it once, then landed and met my friend, Mike Cuy, who had already arranged a hangar for me. His Pietenpol was already in the hangar so we pushed mine in beside his and went to dinner before going to bed. I had flown 432 miles in 7 and a half hours (average speed 57
mph - not bad with the headwinds I had been facing).

Friday, July 22nd, Mike and I left Columbia Station to head to the big Pietenpol Fly-in at Brodhead, Wisconsin about 8 AM, after waiting for the clouds to lift a bit. There was a big front sitting just to the north of us , but it was clearing to the west, in the direction we were traveling. We flew about 2 hours in perfect conditions over lush farmlands. We were in a loose formation, taking pictures of each other as we flew. Mike commented that he felt like he was in an EAA Documentary. The land was beautiful, with big flat prosperous looking farms. If either of us had lost an engine the hardest decisions would have been trying to choose which of the many fields would have been easiest to land in. Not at all like flying over North Carolina where there might be many times with no suitable field to put a plane down in case of a problem. We landed at Bryan, OH and refueled, then headed out on the next leg to Valparaiso, IN.

Here I am flying formation with Mike Cuy.

The Ohio Countryside

The leg to Valparaiso also took about 2 hours, continuing the idyllic flight over beautiful farmland. There we stopped for a while and enjoyed the hospitality of the local EAA chapter, who had set up a tent serving bratwurst to pilots flying to Oshkosh. Nice folks.

Taking off from Valparaiso showed that high density altitudes continue to be a problem for Pietenpols. The runway was long and there was a nice wind pretty much down the runway but I still found myself climbing out over the town, dodging steeples and cell towers. At 200 feet per minute, it takes several minutes after takeoff before you can relax.

This leg was to Poplar Grove, IL, and also took about 2 hours, swinging west of Chicago and then north. We had enjoyed a tailwind all morning and expected to lose it once we turned north, but to our surprise the tailwind continued, just not quite as strong. My GPS was indicating a ground speed of about 75 knots (86 mph) most of the day. We arrived inPoplar Grove and landed in the teeth of a fairly strong crosswind. Mike made a good landing. Mine was survivable.

After leaving Poplar Grove, we had a short 30 minute flight to Brodhead, where we found the field buzzing with Pietenpols, and a large variety of other antique airplanes. We both made good landings there and taxied in to enjoy the evening.

John & Jack in Brodhead

Mike & Jack with PIets in Brodhead

John Hofmann met me as I was shutting down the engine at Brodhead. He had already staked out a nice campsite for Mike, himself and me. We got the airplanes tied down and headed over to pitch our tents and relax after a long day's flying. John cooked up some delicious bratwursts he had bought in New Glarus, Wisconsin (famous for their sausages) and we had a supper that couldn't be beat, then did a "hangar walk" around the airport. Brodhead must have the world's greatest collection of flyable antique aircraft, many of them the sole remaining example of their type. I'm glad I had John around to ask questions - he knows more about antique airplanes than anyone I know.

Saturday dawned cloudy with the promise of rain. As usual, Larry Williams woke everyone with his "Dawn Patrol" in his Model A Ford powered Pietenpol. We had a series of storms all day long and little flying was done. Mike did fly early in the morning, doing a low pass over the field with his smoke system on. He got beat up pretty badly by
the turbulence and crosswind so I didn't bother trying (besides, my butt was too sore after two solid days of flying). We had a good time just "hangar flying" and watching the crowds that surrounded Mike's and my Pietenpols all weekend long.

That evening the owners of the "French" hangar (with a replica 1909 Bleriot) rolled out the world's only operational 3 cylinder Anzani engine, just like the one Bleriot used to cross the English Channel in 1909, and fired it up. After watching what it took to get this engine
to run, and the amount of flames and castor oil it spewed out while running (apparently the third cylinder is a "spare" because it usually ran on only 2 of the 3 cylinders), the amazing thing about Bleriot's flight was not that he flew over the English Channel, but that he got that engine to run for 25 minutes straight. I doubt that has happened
since 1909.

We attended the annual pork chop dinner Saturday evening and then retired to our tents to indulge in some good single malt scotch. John's wife did not attend, saying she wanted to avoid a "stinky, smelly-boys weekend". I can't imagine a more perfect weekend than to be surrounded by good friends, good food and rare antique airplanes and homebuilts.

Sunday Mike departed for Cleveland, and I left heading for Oshkosh on a very windy morning. As I got the engine started, my throttle linkage began to slip, so I shut it down and spent the next hour repairing the linkage. A little extra lubricant on the throttle cable helped to prevent a recurrence of the problem and I was soon on my way. I elected
to stay low and avoid the headwinds forecast for the upper altitudes, and got the crap beat out of my by the turbulence, but I was rewarded with a good tailwind - 83 knots (95 mph), groundspeed. Chuck Gantzer left in his Pietenpol shortly after I did and decided to fly high enough to avoid the turbulence, but he found the headwinds and was only making
12 mph groundspeed so he gave up and never got his Pietenpol to Oshkosh.

After a little over an hour I found myself on the Ripon approach into OSH. I tucked in behind a flight of Aeronca Champs and Citabrias and followed them from Fisk to Oshkosh, where I entered the downwind for runway 18R. They were cleared to land as a flight. I never heard a clearance for me, so as I turned short final I transmitted and asked
"What about the Pietenpol on final?"

The tower said "Are you part of that flight of Champs?"

I replied "I can be"

"Cleared to land, if you can get it down short", said the tower.

I threw it into a hard forward slip (pretty easy since the wind was a 70 degree crosswind at 18 knots), and dropped it right onto the end of the runway, pulling it out of the slip, flaring and rolling it onto the runway in a very nice landing for such conditions. I exited the runway about 200 feet beyond the touchdown point and rolled across the turf to
the taxiway. I followed the ground directions of the EAA volunteers and tied it down right in front of Homebuilder's Headquarters, right on the flight line.

Piet on the Line at Oshkosh 2005

Karen arrived a couple of hours later (via American Airlines through Green Bay) and we went to the private home where we had a room reserved. We really liked the couple who owned the house and decided this is definitely the way to visit Oshkosh. Particularly on Monday night,
when the thunderstorms dropped 6 inches of rain and washed away half the people who were camping, and I was lying in our nice warm bed listening to the rain pelting against the windows and thinking how happy I was to NOT be camping in this. Sunday evening John Hofmann and his wife Susan came into town bringing my camping gear and joined us for dinner at an outstanding restaurant in downtown Oshkosh

Monday we spent most of the morning sprucing up the plane and getting it ready for the judges, then watched the air show that afternoon.

Tuesday, Karen and I went to the Van's Aircraft booth and got some information on the RV-10. We got to sit in one and became convinced that this would be the ideal traveling airplane for us. As we left their booth, I casually mentioned that I could order the kit when I get
home and start working on it next month. At that point Karen began choking me. Suddenly I heard a voice say "Don't choke that man - he's a friend of mine!" I looked up and there was Mike Cuy, who had driven to Oshkosh after flying back to Cleveland.

We also visited the EAA Museum and the Seaplane Base on Tuesday, as well
as some of the vendor booths.

Wednesday I took off from Oshkosh, headed for Jackson, Tennessee. This was to be the longest days journey I would have - 505 nautical miles (581 statute miles). I got in line at about 8:45 AM and finally took off at 9:33, heading for Poplar Grove, IL. I had a good tailwind (88
knots groundspeed at times, with an average over the day of about 75 knots or 86 mph) and made it to Poplar Grove in under 2 hours.

The next stop was at Pontiac, IL, which turned out to be a crop duster strip. They had fuel and were friendly, and like the folks at Poplar Grove, they knew how to hand-prop an airplane, so I didn't have to start it myself and then chase after it as it rolled across the ramp.

I left Pontiac and headed for Shelbyville, IL, where I found a completely deserted airport. The office was open, the cash register was open and I could see the cash in the drawer, but no one was around and the fuel pump was locked. I finally decided that with the tailwind I was enjoying I could make it to my next stop so I started the plane, jumped in, and flew to Mount Vernon, IL.

At Mount Vernon, I began to catch up to the front that had rained on Oshkosh Monday night. The weather looked bad, and a Luscombe pilot from Alabama told me he was giving up and staying there for the night. I looked at the weather radar on their computer and decided to press on, at least to my next fuel stop.

The next stop was at Metropolis, IL, just across the Ohio River from Paducah. No one there, either, but they had self-service fuel so I refueled the plane, then called Raleigh Flight Service for an up to date briefing on the weather I was facing. I don't know who the briefer was
I talked with, but he was good and told me exactly what I needed. He
said there was a line of rain showers stretched across my route, but the section just to the west of my route was fairly light and would only last for about 5 miles, until I could cross the border into Tennessee. So I took off and headed west, partly to get around the Class D airspace around Paducah, and partly to get me into the lightest possible rain. Sure enough, as I approached the Tennessee state line, it began to rain, but it was fairly light and I wasn't getting wet in the cockpit. The rain lasted until I crossed the state line, then stopped. I flew on in improving conditions and was enjoying the flight until 12 miles out from Jackson, when the engine noise suddenly changed. I looked out the right side of the cockpit and saw that the right exhaust manifold had broken and was hanging from the SCAT hose for the carburetor heat system. I landed uneventfully in Jackson and hugged Mama, then left the plane with instructions to put it in the hangar.

The next morning I went back to the airport to see what could be done with the exhaust manifold. The left one had broken a couple of weeks before, testimony to my capabilities as an exhaust system designer. Apparently the length and weight of the stack was simply too much, in combination with the vibration and beating the system takes from the slipstream. The manifolds are made of stainless steel, so must be TIG welded, which I can't do.

The mechanic at the airport was friendly and loaned me the tools I needed to remove the broken exhaust, but when I asked if he could TIG weld it he said his welder had burned up in a hangar fire last year. He said he didn't know of a good welder that he could recommend and suggested I just look in the yellow pages.

As I looked through the W's in the yellow pages, one of the first names I saw was "McClain's Welding Service". I wondered if that was Bill McClain, whose ex-wife had worked for my Dad as a nurse years ago. He was a professional welder, but I expected he was long since retired. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I called the number. When he answered, I asked if he was Bill McClain, to which he said yes. I said "This is Jack Phillips, Dr. Philips' son." He immediately recognized me and after I described my problem he said to come on over to his shop and he'd see what he could do.

To make a long story slightly shorter, Bill did a fine job repairing my exhaust and adding some braces to further strengthen it. He would not let me pay him anything for the job, saving me at least a couple of hundred dollars.

I reinstalled the exhaust stack, visited with my Mom and Uncle Charles (who had driven from Nashville just to see my plane) and just enjoyed the rest of the day.

Friday morning I took off by a little after 7:00, heading east on the long leg home. My first fuel stop was in Pulaski, TN which I reached in a little under 2 hours. I refueled the plane and climbed in for the next leg, to Rome, Georgia. I had only been in the air for an hour or
so when the sky got much darker, with low scudding clouds and light rain. Up ahead I could the first of the mountains, with its peak invisible in the clouds. Not good. The ceiling was down to about 1200' and the visibility was no more than a couple of miles. I decided this was not where I wanted to be, so I pressed the "Nearest" button on my GPS, and headed for Madison County Executive Airport (Huntsville, Alabama), which was 6.7 miles to the west. I landed there uneventfully and went into the FBO to check the weather again. They were extremely nice and friendly there (the receptionist was from New Hill, NC, where I live). Talking with Flight Service and looking at the radar I decided that in an hour or so I could try again to see if I could get to Rome.

Refueled again (the only time you can have too much fuel is if you're on fire) and took off for Rome. This was about an hour and a half of the nastiest flying I've ever done, weaving between broken clouds and mountaintops (I never knew northern Alabama was so mountainous), with numerous rain showers. Light rain is not a problem in the Pietenpol - you don't even get wet. But heavy rain is much different. I got soaked, and the windshields and my goggles were so covered with rain I couldn't see. I could see the ground, but the ground was nowhere near level and there was no horizon at all. If I had not put a working Turn and Bank Indicator in the plane I don't think I could have kept it level. A Pietenpol is not a very good instrument platform. Again, the GPS was very helpful in maneuvering around the taller peaks, which were up in the low clouds. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I got in sight of Rome, and the weather suddenly moderated to the relatively benign conditions reported by Flight Service. I landed at Rome, tied the plane down on the ramp, snapped the cockpit covers on and walked into the terminal ready to quit for the day.

When I looked at the computer and the radar in the terminal I realized I was through flying for much longer than a day. The cold front had gone stationary, stalled all along the mountains and there was a solid squall line of thunderstorms between me and Raleigh, and they were not moving at all. I talked with Karen and she suggested that I fly home commercially via Atlanta. A local pilot in Rome who had an Ercoupe in a hangar there offered to let me keep the plane in his hangar, and offered to drive me to the airport in Atlanta, so I took him up on his kind offer. My flight wouldn't leave until 9:10 PM (actually, since it was AirTran, it didn't leave until after midnight) so we went to dinner in a nice restaurant and I bought his dinner. Very nice fellow, who said he had been stranded once in his private plane and knew what it felt like when someone helped him. I'll have to pass this help along to a pilot who needs it someday.

The weather did not clear up until the following Tuesday, when my friend Denny Mercer flew me back to Rome in his beautiful RV-7, a 200 mph homebuilt airplane. We covered the 400 miles between Raleigh and Rome in 1 hour 55 minutes. We had a nice lunch at the deli on the field in Rome, then both took off heading back to Cox Field. Denny beat me back, by about 5 hours. I flew from Rome to Pickens County, SC where I refueled and met some very nice people. I then flew to Lincoln County, NC, just north of Charlotte. They were not so friendly there, and in fact this was the only airport on the whole trip where people saw me taxi in but no one made any comment about the plane. When I
asked if there was anyone who could give me a prop they looked totally
dumbfounded, so I found my appropriate rocks and started it myself, then hopped in and took off on the last leg for home.

There are a couple of tall towers just east of Lincoln County, but once I got clear of them I was able to drop down to "Pietenpol altitudes" (about 800' off the ground) and enjoy the flight home. Less than an hour out of Lincoln County I started flying into familiar territory, where I've been flying for the last 10 years. I flew right over Asheboro's airport where I've flown many times for Young Eagle Rallies, and then over Siler City Airport. I flew over downtown Pittsboro and then could see Jordan Lake shining in the distance. I arrived over Cox Field and did a low "High Speed" pass down the runway, then entered the traffic pattern and landed. A great trip, and lots of wonderful memories.

The total was 2,147 miles in 37 hours of flying. I also won an award for "Outstanding Workmanship" at Oshkosh, but an even better reward was listening to the comments of the people looking at my plane on the flight line.