Tinkicker

Yup. I heard of an affluent guy who bought an house right next to an historic airfield, then tried his best to get the airfield shut down because the planes were noisy. Idiots.

Boiled linseed oil.

No it is real time weather. If its foggy there, it is foggy in the sim - usually. I was just unlucky that I was not able to see the sights.

I settle in the cockpit, take a sip out of my Dunkin Donuts coffee cup and shuffle my backside into a comfortable position. OK, I pull the tablet and take a look at the weather for Fort Lauderdale. Few clouds at 2100ft, Few at 3000ft and scattered at 4000ft. Winds none and vis at more than 10 miles. Good to go. I phone David the owner to tell him his plane can be expected today. Get her started, input KFLL into the nav, punch enter, select it as a direct destination and its time to say goodbye to Jacksonville. Contemplating the final takeoff of the trip. I will keep on runway heading, wheels down and once over the departure end of the runway, select wheels up. If the engine fails with plenty of runway beneath, I will attempt to put her down. Once wheels up, if the engine fails I will land straight ahead, wheels up. Once I have left the airfield boundary I should be at a sufficient altitude to have the time to make further emergency plans. I find a suitable theme on my phone. Goodbye Jacksonville. That cockpit feels like home. We have flown many hours together and come almost halfway across the world. Strange to think it is the last time I will sit in her. Direct heading for Fort Lauderdale and hang on a moment. I have flown all this way and have nothing to look forward to but a long, boring airline flight home. Nope, I am going to do some sightseeing and fuel be damned. I kick off the autopilot and reef her around towards the coastline to see the sights. I have seen enough swamp and desolation to last a lifetime. Headed down the eastern seaboard of Florida. I do not like the look of that fogbank ahead. 10 mins later and we come to Daytona Beach. Just gotta locate the airport and the Daytona Speedway should be right by it... Yeah, its Daytona Baby! That fog is really blowing in from the Atlantic, it does not bode well for my sightseeing. Solid fog undercast, I decide to descend to 1500ft to see if I can get under it. Not a chance, 1500ft and I cannot even see the ground directly beneath. The entire Titusville/ Cape Canaveral/ Orlando area is socked in. Nothing for it but to cruise climb back to 3500ft, rejoin my original track and head inland direct for Fort Lauderdale. So much for my clever plan. And we drone on over endless swampland and solar farms in Central Florida. I am constantly seeking out open spaces ahead to land in, and leapfrogging my way across the country, should the engine quit over the swamp. To the east, the fog stubbornly refuses to clear. Now just 16 miles to run, the fog has started moving back out over the ocean and my phone rings. It is a very excited David wanting to know where I am and when I expect to be landing. He is in the aircraft viewing area, waiting with binoculars for me to land. Just great, no pressure there then. Bet I blow a tyre on landing or some other catastrophe befalls me. 16 miles. Fort Lauderdale is HUGE. Taxying in to the GA parking area at a very busy airport. I collect my gear and the aircraft tech logs and go find the airside canteen. As I wait for David to arrive, I reflect on the flight and the journey that the aircraft went through. Its journey began as a blue un airworthy wreck waiting to be broken for parts in the corner of a small, very cold and dismal Yorkshire airfield in mid December 2024. It was saved from its fate by an anonymous person in the US and given enough attention to be airworthy again - just. It has flown from Leeds to Edinburgh and hence to Wick before starting the perilous journey across the North Atlantic. Wick to the Faroe Isles. Faroes to Iceland where it was force landed into a snow bank. Repaired in Iceland and fitted with a brand new engine and prop, it even had its colour changed from blue to red which was a surprise. The new owner took the opportunity to have the entire aircraft repainted in its original red livery while it was being repaired. That was a shock, I thought it was a different aircraft altogether. We then flew to Greenland, Newfoundland and down into the USA. She has ended her trip in early May 2025 looking like a brand new aircraft, basking in the warm Florida sunshine. A far cry from where she started from. David arrives and I hand over the tech logs while I prepare myself to give him some bad news.. Bet he thinks I broke it.... I am afraid the gear will not lower electrically, it will raise on the gear motors, but will no longer descend. It needs looking at. I have been using the emergency gear extension handle to lower it. Oh that, its been doing that off and on since the early 1970s. Nobody ever got to the bottom of it. It usually works for six months and decides not to, always been the same. Oh. I sign the last gear glitch into the tech logs, pick up my bags, shake his hand and hurry to leave to catch my plane back to Heathrow. I do not want to be talked into hand flying that damnable CL415 water bomber back home. The trip is over. Glad and sad at the same time.

Ah the Airsporter. Here is one I was given in 2020 as a rusty, seized, non operational relic of past youth. It had been stood and long forgotten in a parents shed for at least 30 years and probably closer to 40, it only came to light when the now collapsing shed was being emptied ready for pulling down after the now very elderly parents had passed on and the house was being prepared for sale. Luckily, someone a long time in the past had squirted a lot of oil down the barrel so the rifling, tap assembly and cylinder were still in good condition internally, the trigger sear assemby was seized and would not hold the piston back. Cost around £20 in new seals, parts and materials and I reckon from what I have seen locally, it is worth between £150 and £200 these days. The period correct and original BSA telescopic sight and mounting rings were found on ebay for a further £20. Given to me by a work mate and I restored it to its former glory, must be around winter 2020. Still have it. Could not afford a BSA when I was a kid, I had an eastern bloc produced Relum Tornado.

Unfortunately for you in this context, they operate under a contractual " invitation to treat". Which means they offer a service with conditions. If you do not want to abide by those conditions, it is " jog on matey". Your choice. The employee was well within their right to instruct you of their rules and insist that you abide by them. Unfortunately in this case you do not have the moral high ground you thought you had, no matter what excuse you offer up. Sorry to have to spell it out so starkly, but there it is.

Europe is also pretty sparsely populated compared to the UK. In fact very sparsely populated.

Feeling much better today, so decided to press on a little more. Kicked her tyres and lit the fires and its time to go. Set up the Nav for Savannah (KSAV) direct as waypoint one and Jacksonville (KJAX) as the destination. So time for a suitable tune on the radio. Hmm Flying across the southern states... Charlie Daniels Band? Hmm I got a better idea. Plug in my phone to the intercom and.. So we set sail for parts of a southern nature. We cross from Virginia into North Carolina. What a huge country. Really makes you realise how short changed we are living on this ever more overcrowded rock. Same picture in the UK and you would see several cities and towns in the pic. Roughly abeam Raleigh NC. We come to the Lumber River marking the boundary between North and South Carolina. Apart from that, the only way to tell in the air is that private airstrips suddenly appear with different prefixes and suffixes on the nav system, so 60NC would become SC60. And we have the Savannah River coming up, the boundary with Georgia. Although River is a bit of a misnomer. It is part of a vast swamp that stretches from South Carolina, through Georgia and down the east coast of Florida. And yes SD. That wing really does look 18ft long in VR and the ground really does look like it is 3000ft below. We head down the top of the panandle towards Florida and we are basically following the line of the I95 Interstate down to Jacksonville. The Florida State Line is just to the north of Jacksonville. On the ground in Jacksonville. Its Florida Baby Yeah! Route. Around 500 miles and four hours flying into a stiff headwind. I take of my headset and find the weather outside is a darn sight better than when I put it on. Good thing about VR is you can escape the garbage UK weather.

Must admit, sitting on the bike while pumping fuel is not something I ever did. I have seen people do it though. Historically when it is not the turn of the one sat astride the bike to pay for the fuel.

I found the Philly Cheesesteak a little rich for my liking. My intestines protest mightily. Not a great start to the day. I was going to head down to north carolina, but I fear my guts will not allow it, so a shorter trip to Norfolk, Virginia is in order. We take off from Philadelphia, cross the Delaware river over Delaware Bay and from the state of New Jersey into the state of Delaware. For the first time on the trip, it is boiling hot in the cockpit and I have to turn off the cabin heat and open the cabin fresh air vents to keep cool. Delaware Bay, a mighty river. Then we come to Chesapeake Bay, another mighty waterway, more like a sea than a bay. It is difficult to grasp just how huge the US is. At the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay lies Norfolk and the state of Virginia. I tune the radio into a local station and whaddayaknow. We circle over the Little Creek Naval Amphibious Base as we line up for the active runway at Norfolk And down on the GA ramp at Norfolk Regional airport. Route. Just shy of 200 miles.

Finally found and ordered the correct OEM fittings for the 175 tail lamp bracket in Singapore of all places. Not cheap. Perhaps a poor business choice since it is up for sale but I cannot help myself... Besides, the chance of it selling in todays financial climate is slim to non existant, so I still view it as an ongoing project. The flat washers and socket head bolts are wrong. They should be shouldered hex head bolts and cup washers on the tailight and the tail light bracket to the rear fender should be a dome headed nut. I figure that this will make her around 96% original.

Love the landmark. In an ideal world you would pull over to ask a local for directions... Scuse me, could you direct me to the black horse? Sure. Carry on down the road until you come to the second chopped down average speed camera pole, turn left straight after it and follow that road for about a mile until you come across the burned out speed camera van, then turn right. Black horse is on the right by the burned out gatso.

No. One owner called Richard. Its kept at Sherburn Airfield. Richard is a first class display pilot. I know all this because as I was sitting, drinking my fanta, a bloke ambled up complete with bike jacket and Arai and asked if I minded him sitting at my table. Nope, so he sat and we chatted about old bikes for awhile, he said some very kind comments about the VFR while watching the planes. He also restored old bikes, although his were mainly british. I noticed a lot of people seemed to know him. He was very knowledgeable about bikes and aircraft, as am I. Then the stearman came by, took off and put on a little air display over the field. I had mentioned what a lovely aircraft it was and he made an absolute bombshell comment. " Yes, I am rather proud of her, I look after her at Sheburn Engineering Services". Yup I was sat talking to the engineer that kept her in tip top shape! Apparently she is like a brand new aircraft inside and out.

Once upon a time there was a scruffy, leather jacketed, denim cutoff, jeans and bike booted young tinkicker. This was pretty much his entire ensemble. The jacket lived draped over a chair in his kitchen, his helmet and gloves lived on the kitchen table and the well worn, almost carpet slipper comfortable boots lived at the side of the kitchen door. Jeans were always worn. So lets go out on the bike.. Jacket on, boots pulled on, helmet gloves and keys picked up and out to the garage, unlock it, fuel on, ignition on and be riding in less than three minutes from switching the telly off. Fast forward 35 years. Still a scruffy creature, that particular foible never changed. This time it is scruffy for comfort, not a lifestyle statement. Jeans gave way to fleece joggers, leather jacket gave way to t shirt and sweatshirt. Bike boots are now trainers. Time to get the bike out for a run. OK. Unlock the shed, turn off the alarm, unlock the chain and disc lock. Remove the dust sheets. Remove the battery tender. Grope under the tank with a specially bought for the purpose, very long screwdriver to switch on the fuel via the completely inaccessable fuel tap. Refit the seat and seat cowl. Start up the bike, check the tyre pressures, roll out the bike through two extra layers of security into the driveway. Stop the bike, and switch off the ignition. Pocket the keys. Upstairs bedroom to change into jeans or more usually, combat pants. Spare bedroom to collect armoured jacket and boots. Take downstairs put them on the kitchen worktop. Into conservatory where I keep the helmet, take it out of bag and place with jacket ect. Put on my stiff as hell tactical boots. Make sure the escape artist dogs are where they should be before opening the front door, if one sneaks out without me seeing, it will be away as soon as I open the final gates onto the road. Armed with jacket, gloves and helmet, I slip out of the front door, lock it and go to start the bike. Where is the key? Upstairs in my jogger pants pocket is where. Unlock the door and wrestle with three dogs intent on getting out, to get back in. Go upstairs, find key, come back and wrestle with three dogs intent on getting out into the front garden once again to get back out the front door. Lock the front door and zip the keys into a pocket. Start up the bike to warm it while I put on the jacket, helmet and gloves. Open the final layer of security - the main gates and onto the street. Start to finish, a full 30 minutes or more. Many is the time when I have fancied a ride out and did not go because I could not face the rigmarole of getting everything ready. Modern life is so much more complicated than it once was.

First " destination" ride of the season after a couple of 30 mile circular rides round the local area to chase down any faults that occurred over the winter layup. Of course, it was a ride out to my favourite destination for a bacon buttie and can of fanta. Breighton Airfield. Unbeknown to me they had a celebrity attending. One so breathtakingly beautiful that the hair stood up on the back of my neck. Enter the Boeing PT17 Stearman. And the real star of the ride, resting after a faultless and very enjoyable performance. Cannot believe how much dust she collected on her wheels after a 60 mile ride. Roads must still be filthy after winter.