Monday, Aug. 15, 1977
The Big Fly-In at Oshkosh
Up in the air, junior birdmen!
The sky over the Wisconsin city of Oshkosh darkened last week as swarms of flying machines--biplanes and Breezies, power gliders and Gyrocopters, delta wings and Aerodusters--cavorted and capered in the air like drunken dragonflies. The occasion: the 25th annual convention of the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA), held at Wittman Field, where 430 homemade aircraft of every description registered for the festivities. Some, like Paul Sunday's 90%-completed Varieze, were trailered to Wisconsin. Others came in on a wing and a prayer. Michael Murphy, a TWA mechanic who built his sky-cycle from a photograph of a 1912 wood-frame plane, flew up from St. Louis with his wife, stopping every 50 miles to refuel; Gail Turner, a schoolteacher who spent a year building her shocking-pink Fly Baby in her living room, took five days to fly it east from Belmont, Calif.
Once in Oshkosh, the builder-flyers demonstrated their airs above ground: one man performed slow aerobatics in his Starduster while listening to Strauss waltzes over his on-board earphones; another, goggled and scarfed like the Red Baron himself, eased his bulbous-nosed Der Jager into the friendly skies. There were also rides in a Ford Tri-Motor to be had for a mere $10 and the Red Devil Acrobatic Biplane Squad to watch as it performed an amazing array of intricate patterns and loops and dives.
For the 34 air controllers sent to Oshkosh from other Midwestern airports to keep the participants out of one another's struts, the convention was not only the "world's largest aviation event" but also the world's biggest traffic jam. Chicago's O'Hare, the world's busiest airport, averages some 2,000 landings and takeoffs a day; there were more than 4,800 daily at Oshkosh. Since many of the planes were not even equipped with radios, the controllers were forced to rely on red smoke signals. Even those flyers with radios were not much better off: a pilot once asked in what order he should land and was told by an exasperated controller, "There are 127 airplanes to follow. Find the last one and follow him." Another controller simply despaired and suggested that everyone clear the area and come back later.
Inevitably, there have been accidents in the event's 25-year history. Six people have been killed, including one last week --Burton Bodven, 33, of Franksville, Wis., who died after another plane shirred off the tail of his craft in a mid-air collision. Yet all in all, home-built wings of man have had a relatively good safety record. According to Government estimates, home-built planes that have been legally certified as airworthy have an annual accident rate of 3% per active aircraft--the same as general aviation factory-built planes.
More and more people are designing, constructing and flying their own planes. In 1965 the EAA had only 14,500 members; today there are 55,000. The Federal Aviation Administration estimates that more than 7,000 homemade planes are now flying and that another 7,000 are under construction in basements, garages and backyards. While many of the builders are fulfilling the dream of Icarus, some are simply saving money. A Pitts aerobatic biplane that regularly costs $34,000, for instance, can be assembled from a kit for $20,000. For the more ambitious, there are plans that sell for as little as $135. Says Paul Poberezny, president and founder of the EAA: "The average person would like to fly but can't afford a plane. A home-built plane can do the same job with less materials."
Many homemade planes, however, never leave the ground. The EAA estimates that only one out of every ten who start a plane ever finishes it. Said Roger Rourke, a machinist who spent nine years building his brightly painted, red and yellow Starduster: "It took six years to build it, 15 seconds to crash it, and three more years to rebuild it." Rourke's perseverance paid off: last week he won the EAA'S grand champion Custom Built Award.
"It's a wonderful feeling to build something and fly it yourself," says Turner, who wore a hot-pink jumpsuit to match her plane. The upper left wing of her next plane is already in her living-room workshop, and her twelve-year-old son vows to build his own before he turns 16. Says the Pink Baroness: "The orange shag carpet is full of sawdust. Building planes is a good excuse for not cleaning house."
Home-built models run on everything from real airplane engines to chain-saw motors. While some are equipped with Plexiglas windshields, others are more austere. The Breezy, for instance, exposes its pilot to 60-m.p.h. winds. The Easy Riser is nothing more than a pair of biplane wings connected by a seat and powered by a Go-Kart motor. Cost: $1,200. To get this 80-lb. flying machine off the ground, its developer, Larry Mauro of San Jose, Calif, runs as fast as he can for 25 feet. Says he: "In this plane you can find pockets of lift and spiral around. When you're out flying you'll often see two or :hree hawks right out there with you. The idea is to fly like a bird."
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