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So what has been keeping us busy? Well…

After church Sunday we went to the airport for a little air show. You had to park at a nearby school and take a bus to the show. It was a twenty-minute wait in 90-degree heat for the bus. But there were planes. Not a lot of them, but an interesting selection. There was a Ford Tri-motor, a Spirit of St Louis replica, a Stearman, two F-16’s, a B-17, and a B-24. Those last two were WW2 bombers.

It was hot- around 90 degrees. We wandered around and looked at them, but the kids quickly tired of it. Trainboy claimed his brain was melting. Ms. Pikachu hit me up for a buck, bought a bottle of water, and poured it over herself and Trainboy. They were happy.

Rides could be bought on most of the planes for $40. The bombers were $400 for a half-hour ride. The Wonderfulwife said I should get a ride on a bomber. I couldn’t believe it, I couldn't do that for myself. $400 is a lot to spend to get happy for a half-hour. But there it was- the ride of a lifetime, and one of the seats was for me. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.

Which one to ride? The B-17 is the more famous of the two. But the B-24 was a better bomber. It carried more bombs, was faster, had a longer range. Nobody gets excited about the B-24 though. It never got the PR it deserved, never developed an aura. It’s the only flying B-24 left, there’s five B-17’s. Can’t resist, I still tell him I want the B-17.

I took Monday afternoon off, picked up the Wonderful wife and kids and away we went. It was a no-go. They were replacing the elevators on the B-17. Do I want to ride the B-24 instead? Nah, I can wait till tomorrow. In the meantime we go through both bombers- family is free with a paying rider.

Trainboy loves it. Ms. Pikachu has no interest; she stays in the car and reads.

On Tuesday it’s raining. Call the flight crew, they expect the weather to break about 1:00, be there. I take off the afternoon again; grab the family and away we go again. We get there and the new elevators are on, but the trim tabs aren’t. Not good. They have to be balanced; it has to be test-flown before taking any passengers up. I tell Jim, it would be okay to fly the B-24 instead. He’s happy.

I get a B-24 sticker to wear to let everybody know I’m a passenger and I’m out on the flight line with the wife and Trainboy. More rain. Crap. We go through the bombers again, take pictures. We wait in the car a while. Trainboy notices there is hair on his legs. “Does this mean I’m becoming a man?” “Should I shave my legs?” Never a dull moment. Eventually the rain stops, the clouds break, and it is sunshine. Oh baby, here it comes.

We get a quick briefing, seat belts to take off and land. Don’t step on any hatches. They were built to breakaway to make bailing out easier. Nice safety feature- if you’re wearing a parachute. Once the plane is airborne you can go anywhere but the ball turret, and the turret on top. No top turret? That's a crimp, but since it’s hydraulic they probably don’t want to have to fix it. It still leaves the waist guns, and the tail-guns, and the nose gun/bombardier. This could still be fun. Oh yeah.

We board through the bombay, climb up on the catwalk and find a place to sit. I get a rear-facing seat at the bulkhead behind the bombay. Buckle up. It’s a primitive 40’s seat belt but who cares? The engines start up 1, 2, 3, and 4. They rev up. It’s loud; you have to yell to be heard. Leaning back against the bulkhead it hums with the vibration.

Looking back through the tail of the plane you can see it rock back and forth and round and round. It’s like an old dog wagging its tale, still wanting to play. Every guy on the plane wants to play. Come on, let’s play. Let’s see things move away from the tail. Let’s get some air beneath these wings. Let’s go.

It starts to get quieter. The crew chief sticks his head in and tells us to unbuckle and get out, we have to wait a while longer. The tower has decided it isn’t quite VFR conditions again. It looks good to us. You can see almost all the way to the horizon, the bottom of the clouds look plenty high enough. Come on, let’s go. We aren’t making the call; we have to wait for the tower.

We wait for an hour, it’s not getting any better. We talk to the fellow who runs the ground operations for the airport. He’s an interesting guy, good stories.

Look up, and it’s just getting darker. This is not good. You don’t have to tell me, this is not good. The pilot comes around and says the weather service will make another call in ten minutes. This does not look good.

Ten minutes comes and goes, it still isn’t clear enough to fly. The storm has stalled, it’s backing up and it’s getting worse. It didn’t take a meteorology degree to see that. It isn’t much longer and the fellow handling the bookings says that even if conditions clear up there won’t be enough time to get in the ride and then get to their next destination.

We have been waiting 4 ½ hours for a thirty-minute thrill, and we aren’t going to get it. What we do get is a refund, a lot of time walking through both bombers, and a few minutes with my back pressed against the bulkhead, feeling the old plane shake to life, and hearing the roar of those four engines. So frustrating, yet so wonderful.

Had I said “yes” to switching the day before, the B-24 ride would have been a fond memory. I could have gone with a sure thing, and instead rolled the dice without knowing it and lost. Oh well. Just sitting in it with the engines revved up is more than I had before, so that’s something. I can’t wait till it comes around again.

You can see the bombers and their schedule at
collingsfoundation
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