Southeastern Trikers On the Farm |
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Story and Photos by Larry Wallace
The weather during the first weekend in October was just begging pilots to fly, which was good because the Southeastern Trikers were holding their annual fly-in on October 3-5 at Cagle's Dairy Farm-River Bend at Resaca, Georgia. Keith Wood – my flying buddy – and I decided to fly to the get-together. We saddled up our trikes on Friday morning, just as the sun peeked over the Eastern horizon, and set out from Fayette, Alabama, on a 190-mile trip to the River Bend airstrip at Cagle Farms. With the help of a 10-knot tailwind, we made the trip in abouat 3 hours in perfect flying conditions.
ON THE WING – Keith Woods, Larry Wallace’s wing- man, flying his
Geo-powered Klass trike from west Alabama to the Southeastern Trikers
Fly-In at Cagle’s Dairy Farm -River Bend at Resaca, Georgia.
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Read more... [Southeastern Trikers On the Farm]
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Rob Kells Remembered |
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Rob Kells, 53, well-known competition hang glider pilot, and a business partner in the Wills Wing hang glider manufacturing company, passed away on August 9, 2008, after battling prostate cancer for nearly 2 years. His connection to this publication started in 1980, when Kells and many other hang glider pilots from the international community converged on Chattanooga, Tennessee, for the American Cup, which had been organized by Tracy Knauss, publisher of then-Glider Rider magazine.
The following is a tribute to Kells, written by Brian Milton, who also competed for the British team in the American Cup.
A Fragment of Rob Kells
At the 1980 American Cup in Chattanooga, Tennessee – the world’s only international hang gliding team championships – a special trophy was offered to please the crowd. It was the Bob Wills Trophy for the best aerobatic pilot at the meet. All the AmCup pilots would be the judges and vote at the end of the competition.
Two West Coast pilots with high reputations – Dan Racanelli and Rob Kells, both flying Wills Wing Harriers -– had come to Tennessee for the competition. Racanelli was the subject of numerous articles in magazines, with great photographs showing past-90° wingovers. He turned out to be burly, bearded, wearing a crash helmet that looked like a Nazi WWII leftover, and was thoroughly modest. Kells, winner of the 1980 Grouse Mountain Meet in Vancouver, BC, was president of Wills Wing, and looked like the typical California surfin' boy.
A third entrant was Dave Ledford, one of the final squad of 9 pilots competing for a place in the 6-man American Team, who failed to make it. He flew a Moyes Mega 2. Each competition day Racanelli, Kells and Ledford filled in the gaps with aerobatic flying, watched with great interest by the rest of us.
Going off 1,350-foot-high Lookout Mountain, there is a mile to fly before you get to the landing area, with perhaps 1,000 feet in hand when you’re there to put on your display. Obviously, pilots wanted smooth air before they started their maneuvers, which tend to begin with a steep dive, whack the bar out and away they go.
I did not actually see the beginning of Ledford’s famous flight, though a good stills cameraman followed most of it. I was behind takeoff when a deep groan came from the assembly who had been watching Ledford’s routine from the ramp. Like everyone else, I ran to the ramp to see his parachute deploy. Ledford had been trying for a true loop, which is possible these days, and though he had come close with more than 160° wingovers, he had not actually made it. On this particular flight he parked upside down, then tail-slid and started tumbling. After three tumbles he got his ’chute out and threw it. It opened, and he and the kite floated to the ground, upside down.
In all the tumbling the Moyes Mega remained intact, breaking nothing, and it was only when Ledford landed – off the center spot, as the more competitive pilots noted – that a small piece on top of the king post broke, being the actual point of impact with the ground. Ledford walked away unharmed, and flew the same kite – cautiously at first – the next day, before settling back again to his routine aerobatics to try and win the Bob Wills Trophy.
Ledford’s flight was a tough act to follow. There were three schools of thought on the subject: One was that Ledford had won outright and everyone should now stop. A second was that Kells, who had been doing more and more outrageous aerobatics and was obviously trying hardest, should get the vote. The third was that Racanelli was keeping his flying beautifully controlled, and not taking needless risks, and in the interests of safety, he should get the vote.
Matters were taken out of our hands because Kells obviously had a good think about Ledford’s “tough act,” and came to his own startling conclusions.
We were all lined up for the presentation of the American Cup. The winning Americans were modest, laid-back and joking. We British pilots were shattered. The French were thinking of a last joke to play. The Australians were in mourning for Peter Brown, and the Canadians had their little mascot holding the flag, and in general, the whole game was over and we were thinking of the partying that evening when out from the hill flew a lone black Harrier. I think the Canadians were being feted by the commentators as Kells flew over the landing area and then over us, but most of us were looking up, wondering what was going to happen. Right above us, Kells dropped his parachute, and his glider slowly and gracefully went into the vertical. He told me later that he wanted to hang there for a second or two, then pull a quick release, fly free of the open chute in a vertical dive and then execute a genuine loop.
The problem was, when he pulled the quick release, nothing happened, and he kept descending toward us.
We all watched, appalled yet fascinated, as Kells tugged and tugged at his chute, and nothing happened. He let go of the control bar, put his feet on it, and began pulling with two hands, all the time descending vertically at us. It looked like 5 more seconds and he would land, nose-down, on the road behind us, and he was close enough you felt you could touch him. Then, the kite waggling from side to side, suddenly, the release worked. Kells dived for the control bar and pushed out, and the Harrier went into an enormous wingover right over the tents and the crowd. He had no height left to do anything but land. The parachute drifted down a few yards away, and then, absurdly, so did the deployment bag.
One wonders how Ledford would have followed that if there had been a few more days left.
Kells won, of course, and took away the trophy.
– Submitted by Brian Milton, from his unpublished book, The Children of the Wind – A History of the First 25 Years of thew New Aviation.
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Light Sport Aircraft in Paradise |
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The Paradise P-1 light sport aircraft, piloted by Paradise USA sales manager Chris Regis and Jim Crone, prepares to take off from Sebring, Florida, on a flight to Paradise Valley, Montana.
Flying Y Ranch, located in Montana's beautiful Paradise Valley, was the destination and new home for the Paradise P-1.
Frank, with his wife Karen.
This barn houses the Montana Music Ranch which Frank established on his property to give new musicians a chance to perform in front of live audiences.
For all of us pilots, flying provides adventure and memories that last a lifetime. This past May an exceptionally exciting adventure was presented to me and I had no problem saying, “Yes!” to an invitation to fly a light sport aircraft from Florida to Montana. Flying an LSA is no different than flying a general aviation aircraft except it is more affordable and whenever you pull up on the ramp in a new LSA, you are suddenly the center of attention.
This particular trip was no small order: I was asked to deliver a new Paradise P-1 light sport aircraft from the final assembly facility in Sebring, Florida, to its proud new owner in Montana. The actual destination was Paradise Valley, Montana. You read correctly. Deliver a Paradise to Paradise.
Christopher Regis, the sales manager at Paradise USA told me, “Jim, this is a unique situation. The customer special-ordered an oversized tundra tire on the aircraft for off-airport operations, so it’s going to be slow.”
Indeed, the factory modified the landing gear and installed a set of huge (for an LSA) wheels and tires. This, of course, required removal of the factory wheel pants. The resulting loss of aerodynamic efficiency reduced our cruise speed to 100 mph indicated. So it might take a little bit longer to get there. Is there a problem here? It seemed to me the reason we love flying is for the sheer fun of it. So we get to spend a bit more time airborne on this trip. Sign me up! And I have to say, the little Paradise looked right at home, sitting there on the ramp up to its knees in rubber.
Regis and I departed Sebring just after sunrise. The flight eventually carried us right through the frontal system that had been flooding the Illinois/Iowa region. Despite the rain and dodging a few thunderstorms, it was excellent VFR and we sailed right on through. We also took a short course deviation to get up close and personal with the Mount Rushmore National Memorial. The Paradise’s 26-gallon tanks gave us great endurance with the miserly consumption habits of the Rotax 912 engine, so we were able to pick and chose where we stopped for fuel.
The flight also included several planned stops to show the Paradise to a number of interested people. We also managed to fit in a few “demo” flights as well. The best entertainment we had en route was listening to all the controllers attempt to pronounce our call sign of N910ZZ. The callbacks usually ended up sounding like, “State your intentions Zelo Zuru Zurulu.” It seemed like everyone got it wrong so we started calling ourselves N91 Ozz, as in Dorothy and the Emerald City. Even with all the excitement, we were still able to keep to the schedule and all too soon we were flying through the mountain pass that led into Paradise Valley, Montana.
Photogenic, charming, breathtaking are all adjectives that apply to Paradise Valley. We were awestruck at the beauty. The private runway destination, found on the Great Falls sectional, is part of Flying Y Ranch, which sits 4,857 feet above sea level and is owned by a gentleman named Duane – a pilot’s pilot. He is living the dream. He has his own private runway, numerous aircraft, teaches flying and A&P mechanics, and has wonderful stories to tell about everything from his WWII flying adventures in spotter aircraft all the way to historical and current events in Paradise Valley. Oh yes, Duane is 82 and still flies every day that he can break away from hangar duties. We should all be so lucky. One of his secrets is working out in his gym, which is located in the hangar loft. Sounds like good medicine to me.
The density altitudes at Flying Y were averaging 6,500 ASL due to the high temperatures. No problem for the Paradise light sport aircraft. This is an aircraft that is usually airborne in about 250 feet at sea level. Even with the high-density altitudes, our ground roll at gross weight was still less than 1,000 feet.
A few Paradise checkouts were part of my mission so another day of fun, I mean work, ensued after our arrival. Then the founder of the Montana Music Ranch and the new owner of N910ZZ gave us a personal tour of the ranch. You might say we were settling right in with the warm hospitality in Paradise Valley. However, all too soon the adventure of a lifetime was over. The best part was all the new friends we made and the gift of more time aloft because of those big tires.
Info: Paradise USA, 446 Hendricks Field Way, Sebring, FL 33870. Phone: 561.632.8428 • Fax: 561.686.7999 • e-mail:
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• Website: www.paradiseaircraft.us
– Story and Photos filed by Jim Crone
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Ultralights Attend Two Rivers Fly-In |
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Left to right: Four of the pilots who participated in the first-ever Two Rivers Fly-In in Vermillion, South Dakota, were Jerry Konechne, Lowell Rahn, Dean Erickson and Mark Eitrem.
Jerry Konechne flies his powered parachute during one of the local outings held during the Two Rivers Fly-In.
Powered parachute pilot Bill Lokken lands Saturday morning to be part of the day’s activities.
Two Rivers Fly-In host Lowell Rahn prepares to take off with a passenger for a late afternoon flight after a rainstorm passed through.
Lowell Rahn of Newcastle, Nebraska, hosted the first-ever Two Rivers Fly-In at the Vermillion Airport in Vermillion, South Dakota, on July 18-20. A large college town of approximately 10,000, Vermillion had motels and restaurants available for those who didn’t care to camp on the airport grounds, but those who came chose to park their campers on a grassy area next to Rahn’s hangar. Other amenities included excellent bathroom facilities in the airport terminal, plus a couple of chemical toilets on the grounds.
The weather was a little questionable, which probably kept people away. Four powered parachutes and one trike flew into the event and several locals showed up to watch. Some of them even opted to take a ride. The powered parachutes took off from a grassy area east of the runways, but sometimes chose to land on the airport taxiway if the grass was wet
Friday night they flew down the Missouri River to the outlet of the Vermillion River. The winds were calm, which made for some great flying, and the scenery was pretty good, too. The pilots were able to view the sandbars constructed by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers for piping plovers and lesser terns as well as pallid sturgeons, which are an endangered fish species. Saturday morning the pilots got up early and flew over the wooded hills and fields to Newcastle, Nebraska, approximately 8 air miles away. The air was a little hazy, but the winds were calm. Again, it was a great flight.
Rahn and his wife Janice grilled burgers and served baked beans, fruit salad and brownies for supper on Saturday night. While everyone was eating, a storm suddenly came up. It rained hard for about 10 minutes, and then the weather cleared and all were able to fly that evening. Again, the wind was calm and they traveled north of Vermillion to Spirit Mound, which was recorded by Lewis and Clark during their travels up the Missouri River. Indian tribes for miles around held the little hill in awe. The Omaha, Sioux and Otoe believed that spirits occupied the mound and would kill any human who came near.
Sunday morning proved too foggy to fly. Most of the pilots chose to pack up and head home, but a couple of hardy souls waited till the fog cleared about 10:30 and ventured up. They flew above puffs of clouds and said it was awesome.
“I hope to see many more at the fly-in next year,” says Rahn.
Contact: Lowell Rah, phone: 605.670.0256 (Newcastle, Nebraska).
– Report and Photos filed by Lowell Rahn.
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