VA Vol 27 No 4 April 1999 - Members Only

A Classic
Trip in
Classic Airplanes
By W D. "Dip" Davis
Pen and Ink Artwork by Jim Newman
October, 1998
This story probably should begin with
the International Cessna 1201140 Association
convention of 1996 in Faribault,
Minnesota. Larry, Marc and I had planned
to fly our respective little Cessnas to the
event. Marc had recently completed the repairs
and restoration on his 140 and it was
in pristine condition to compete for best
original 140. Larry had acquired what
may be the lowest time 140 in existence
with less than 500 logged hours, and had
polished it carefully to the point that my
slightly ratty 120 would have to trail a
ways behind so as not to be associated
with them.
The night before we had planned to depart,
Larry phoned with the news that the
weather prognostication was not conducive
to a VFR round - trip so he proposed that
we all pile in his Suburban and drive up.
As is so often the case, the weatherman
was overly pessimistic and we could have
flown without much strain. However, we
had a nice trip and, of course, a great time
at the convention.
The 1997 convention in Ona, West Virginia
was our next target. This time Larry
had unbreakable commitments and Marc
had just sold rus shlny little 140 to liberate
funds for the completion of his even more
comprehensive rebuilding project, a 120.
My 120 was airworthy, although stHI laoking
an interior, so Marc condescended to
ride with me. His GPS navigation kept me
from deviating more than a few feet off of
a straight line all the way and we again enjoyed
the marvelous hospitality that this
.4 APRil 1999
group always affords.
All of which brings us to plans for the
1998 convention to be held in Chino, California.
California is a considemble distance
in a little 100 mph airplane and a great deal
ofplanning took place among the diehard
Midwesterners who gave thought to making
the trip. I was pleased to see the turnout
at a July session held at Cottonwood Airport
in Rockford. Several of the members
had made the trip (in larger, faster aircraft)
and had interesting observations as
to routes and favorite stopovers. Marc
had done such a great job on the 120 that
someone came along before he was quite
done and made him an offer he couldn't
refuse. Larry convinced him that it was
too lake to back out ofthe journey though,
so Marc made tentative plans to borrow
another 140.
Exactly three weeks before our planned
departure, Larry taxied out ofhis hangar at
Campbell Airport in Grayslake to attend
another planning session at Poplar Grove.
As he descended the winding strip down to
the runway, the airplane slowly diverted
toward the gas pit and lightly struck a
pole. People in the operations office ran
out to see what the problem was and
found Larry unconscious at the controls.
They summoned an ambulance but he
died of a massive coronary before reaching
the hospital.
Two or three days after the funeral,
Marc and I received a conference call at
our homes from Larry's partner who informed
us that Larry's family would like us
to take rus airplane to the convention anyhow,
since that had been such a fond dream.
They also asked if we would be willing to
take Larry's ashes with us and scatter them
over the Pacific Ocean.
What can you say?
Saturday, September 19 - Marc had
made the arrangements with his Dad to attend
a concert in Peoria, so he flew Larry's
140 loaded with enough gear to last a couple
of weeks down there, and I met him at
Mt. Hawley on Sunday morning. I visited
with his parents for a few minutes and we
departed for Pittsfield, Illinois sometime
before noon . Pittsfield has a new, high
tech, credit card operated self fueling system
with reasonable prices. Good thing,
too, as the field was otherwise unattended
on a Sunday. We checked weather on the
phone and found that we must hustle a little
to beat a rapidly approaching front. It
looked kind of dark for just a short while
but got better as we motored southwest.
Two and half hours later we landed at Pt.
Lookout, near Branson, Missouri, a brand
new facility with an imposing terminal
building where we gassed up and gmbbed a
quick snack before we headed out for
McAlister, Oklahoma where we arrived
about 6:00 p.m .. Seven and half hours in
the air was plenty for one day for these old
bones, even though I was able to stick my
feet over onto the right rudder pedals for
half the trip. I was really glad I didn't have
a passenger. We had kept up a running
conversation on 123.4 mhz the entire time,
so it never seemed lonel y. The folks at
McAlister provided a courtesy car to a
nearby motel where we got a decent meal
and a good nights rest.
We decided we were on vacation so we