For quite a few summers my family often flew in old blue, the Citabria. Dad up front, mom in mid seat and me in the baggage, because I was more than small and light enough.
Our favorite thing was to go visit our friends place just to the south of town which he had a dirt strip, and room to taxi right up to house area close to the pool.
Now this family was very different in my eye, but knowing them now, gads I had no idea just how different this guy was. But to an 8 year old airport brat this house was fascinating.
Dennis is a taxidermist, more than a crackshot when shooting, a pilot, and serious warped sense of humor. So there were all kinds of animals he had shot and done up in various poses and setting. Bobcats, birds, deer and my particular favorite the bears. Personally the bears both fascinate and scared me. He had them standing in their full height, but kind of looking downward at you, mouth snarling, and somehow he made those eyes seem real.
But this man was a zoo of live animals too. One never knew what kind of animals he would have in the back yard. A pair of White deer and a fawn too. The one lone buffalo which in reality was scary enough. He had a pretty good fence and such, but basically if it was enraged and charged none of it would stop it. This probably where I learned just how captivating it could be looking into an animals eyes and humbling when you realize you could be prey.
My favorite pets was the timber wolves. Had a male and female, first litter we actually received one of pups, which so outgrew our poor German shepherd in the first 6 months. Was fascinating to watch the male wolf act so much like a loyal dog with Dennis, more or less jumping up to greet him, the wolf was 200lbs and stood taller than him on it's hind legs.
One can imagine why I might get excited to be told get my swimsuit on and here hold the towels, loading up the Citabria and were headed for our friends. still wonder what fascinating things I would find there today. My love of airplanes was not for the planes themselves but the adventure it took me too.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Memories of a Citabria
Memories of a citbria
My earliest memories of the beautiful, blue and white taildragger was from about when I was about four or five years old. Dad up front flying and usually me in the back. My first radio call to a tower was when I was five in that plane to my mom who was working in KLAW tower back then. Dad definitely had to coach me through that call, but I remember feeling so excited when I heard my mom answer us back. We did lots of these flights which often ended up with me in the baggage area.
I was a perfect fit there until about 10 years old.
Being an only child here had it's advantages for the parents. We often flew all three of us, dad up front, mom in middle and me as baggage sitting on my knees so I could see out. Though mom flew this plane a lot on her own too and of course I would get to sit in the seat, but until I was about 8 years old don't think I cared to sit there.
I couldn't see out the windows unless we were in a turn.
Yes I was that short. I was the size of a kindergartner in fourth grade. Still not 5 feet yet.
My favorite flights were the three of us flying to our friends house during the summer to go swimming. Now that family is a blog of it's own. This place was just on south side of town, but much preferred flying there than driving there. I was really just there to swim and play with my friend Rebecca.
I recall a flight at night that apparently weather made mom turn back, but I was oblivious just singing away. Mom thought I was scared partly because she was nervous too, but when she finally could check on me, well poor mom she did ask if I might sing softer instead. My first flight without the door was probably my most exciting. About 8 years old I had seen dad fly often without the door but every time I went along he put the door on. Well one day my best friend Camille was sleeping over and suddenly dad stopped our play and loaded us up strapped us together in the back seat. Ok most pilots will know those seats are fairly roomy and couple little bitty brats would fit all too well in one seat. Ok one this was not a normal thing as dad rarely took me and my friends flying just because, so I have to guess he had a reason to go flying. He made certain that seat belt was tight! Wow the wind, I was excited, oh how the air and the ground looked so different when not looking through plexiglass. It was blurry and clear all at the same time, not sure Camille liked that flight near as much as I did, but she was smiling.
I watched for years my dad throw my uncle Tommy out. Uncle Tommy is my mom's baby brother who was working on his skydive jump master rating back then, but it's always more fun to just say my dad threw him out of the plane.
Once when I was 10, mom nearly ran me over with old blue. Ok granted she couldn't see me as I walking home from the bus stop which put me real close to the end of the runway. She was coming in for landing. It was one of those moments when you get a funny feeling, I looked back and hit the deck, that left main tire was darn close!
My first biannual was done in that plane and my dad's requirement was to do a loop. Ok it wasn't pretty but really would you say no? My introductory crop dusting lessons were given in old blue. Learned about doing fabric repairs on her. my first two wheeled landings, my dad smacking me in the back of the head when I flew up front and let my feet relax, not keeping ball centered. Ok I tended to have fly with my legs extended out using toes to get enough rudder so unlike him I could not rest my heels on the floor and keep enough rudder in. My cushion was an old chair type parachute that definitely not up to date for use, being it was a fully aerobatic plane was required to have, well least anytime my dad flew it.
In 2004 it broke my heart when a nasty windstorm destroyed all but two of our planes, one of our hangars flattened, and so many others heavily damaged. I've seen the worst tornadoes of that areas history and less damaged had been done. But to see poor old blue twisted in impossible ways beyond any repair or salvage was heart wrenching indeed. Even worse knowing I Wouldn't be sharing my joy of old blue with my children.
My earliest memories of the beautiful, blue and white taildragger was from about when I was about four or five years old. Dad up front flying and usually me in the back. My first radio call to a tower was when I was five in that plane to my mom who was working in KLAW tower back then. Dad definitely had to coach me through that call, but I remember feeling so excited when I heard my mom answer us back. We did lots of these flights which often ended up with me in the baggage area.
I was a perfect fit there until about 10 years old.
Being an only child here had it's advantages for the parents. We often flew all three of us, dad up front, mom in middle and me as baggage sitting on my knees so I could see out. Though mom flew this plane a lot on her own too and of course I would get to sit in the seat, but until I was about 8 years old don't think I cared to sit there.
I couldn't see out the windows unless we were in a turn.
Yes I was that short. I was the size of a kindergartner in fourth grade. Still not 5 feet yet.
My favorite flights were the three of us flying to our friends house during the summer to go swimming. Now that family is a blog of it's own. This place was just on south side of town, but much preferred flying there than driving there. I was really just there to swim and play with my friend Rebecca.
I recall a flight at night that apparently weather made mom turn back, but I was oblivious just singing away. Mom thought I was scared partly because she was nervous too, but when she finally could check on me, well poor mom she did ask if I might sing softer instead. My first flight without the door was probably my most exciting. About 8 years old I had seen dad fly often without the door but every time I went along he put the door on. Well one day my best friend Camille was sleeping over and suddenly dad stopped our play and loaded us up strapped us together in the back seat. Ok most pilots will know those seats are fairly roomy and couple little bitty brats would fit all too well in one seat. Ok one this was not a normal thing as dad rarely took me and my friends flying just because, so I have to guess he had a reason to go flying. He made certain that seat belt was tight! Wow the wind, I was excited, oh how the air and the ground looked so different when not looking through plexiglass. It was blurry and clear all at the same time, not sure Camille liked that flight near as much as I did, but she was smiling.
I watched for years my dad throw my uncle Tommy out. Uncle Tommy is my mom's baby brother who was working on his skydive jump master rating back then, but it's always more fun to just say my dad threw him out of the plane.
Once when I was 10, mom nearly ran me over with old blue. Ok granted she couldn't see me as I walking home from the bus stop which put me real close to the end of the runway. She was coming in for landing. It was one of those moments when you get a funny feeling, I looked back and hit the deck, that left main tire was darn close!
My first biannual was done in that plane and my dad's requirement was to do a loop. Ok it wasn't pretty but really would you say no? My introductory crop dusting lessons were given in old blue. Learned about doing fabric repairs on her. my first two wheeled landings, my dad smacking me in the back of the head when I flew up front and let my feet relax, not keeping ball centered. Ok I tended to have fly with my legs extended out using toes to get enough rudder so unlike him I could not rest my heels on the floor and keep enough rudder in. My cushion was an old chair type parachute that definitely not up to date for use, being it was a fully aerobatic plane was required to have, well least anytime my dad flew it.
In 2004 it broke my heart when a nasty windstorm destroyed all but two of our planes, one of our hangars flattened, and so many others heavily damaged. I've seen the worst tornadoes of that areas history and less damaged had been done. But to see poor old blue twisted in impossible ways beyond any repair or salvage was heart wrenching indeed. Even worse knowing I Wouldn't be sharing my joy of old blue with my children.
Memories of a Citabria: Memories of a citbria
Memories of a Citabria: Memories of a citbria: "My earliest memories of the beautiful, blue and white taildragger was from about when I was about four or five years old. Dad up front flyin..."
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