The Flight of the Microlights

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When Keith Nicely and I decided to pilot our Pterodactyl Fledgling microlight airplanes from the West Coast to the Experimental Aircraft Association's Fly-In at Oshkosh, Wisconsin, we didn't have much trouble coming up with a solid economic rationalization for the trip. After all, I'm president of Pterodactyl Ltd-and Keith is my San Francisco area dealer-so it was easy enough to chalk the cross-country jaunt up to good business promotion.

But-while such practical justification served to explain the excursion to our business partners-Nicely and I were actually interested in the adventure because it offered us three weeks of real freedom and a chance to relive the freewheeling spirit of aviation's early days . . . seeing the country by air and landing anyplace that looked inviting!

(Incidentally, the Fledgling is just about the ideal craft for the sort of odyssey that we had in mind. Microlight aircraft, you see, can land in a small field ... are relatively inexpensive-about $3,000 in kit form-to purchase . . . and, best of all, are classed as hang gliders by the government's regulation agencies. You don't even need a license to fly'em! )

OVER THE ROAD

On the 4th of July, Keith and I unfolded the wings of our craft (the planes looked a little flimsy when we considered the distance ahead of us) and flew northeast from Monterey, California . . . after taking a quick swoop over the Pacific to make sure that we were, indeed, leaving from the West Coast.

Our first day's flight was pretty much limited to soaring over the foothills and lowlands while we experimented with an air-to-air communication system. We worked out hand signals for "low on fuel" and "follow me", and big grins for "we're in the sky and the world is absolutely beautiful" . . . just the essentials.

Before proceeding with the details of our trip, I should take time to introduce the earthbound members of our group . . . who couldn't even communicate with us using hand signals! Brad Shaver and Joe England had agreed to follow us-in exchange for gas money- in a middle-aged pickup truck loaded with spare parts, a canoe, a camp stove, and assorted other items that couldn't be carried on the Pterodactyls. (Brad and Joe thought they were going on a fishing trip. Those two guys sure made our journey a whole lot more pleasant than it would have been without 'em . . . but I hope they got more fishing done on the way back than they did while they had two crazy pilots to worry about! )

Our second day of flight took us over the Sierra mountains. We leveled the little planes off at around 10,000 feet- keeping warm enough in our snowmobile suits-and breathed in the cleanest air either one of us could remember. The view was magnificent . . . seeming close, very real, and altogether different from the scenery-parading-by-the-windows effect one gets inside the store-bought Spam cans that most pilots fly!

We landed at Stead (a former Air Force base just north of Reno, Nevada) with our first range of mountains successfully put behind us. From that point on, we would be able (if we wanted to) to fly around—rather than over-any other peaks we might encounter.