On November 2, 1947, with the world watching, Howard Hughes flew the widely criticized Spruce Goose for about two minutes. He made history, silenced critics, and altered aviation. He proved scaled-up aircraft really could fly. This blazed the trail for aircraft like the Boeing 747 and the Antonov An-225.

On December 5, 1980, I made my first solo flight, also for about two minutes. The world wasn’t watching, but I’m sure I was just as thrilled and felt just as much excitement as Howard Hughes did on his historic flight.

The story of the Spruce Goose has captivated me my whole life. I was fascinated that anyone could even dare to dream of, let alone build, such an enormous flying machine at that time in aviation. It was an incredible accomplishment, given the constraints of the day. Because the war was in progress, Hughes was restricted to using wood and was not allowed to hire experienced engineers from established companies. He had to hire and train new engineers on the job.

Hughes’ accomplishments inspired me to stretch my dreams, to attempt to obtain a pilot’s license. This led to an even bigger dream of actually owning my own airplane, which I accomplished five years ago.

When the opportunity came along to join Stu Simpson and Ken Beanlands on a flight to Portland, Oregon, I couldn’t resist, especially since the Spruce Goose is housed just a few miles from Portland. To fly my own plane to see the Spruce Goose would exceed my wildest dreams.

Since I launched my Merlin in 2005, I’ve gained confidence by making trips into the Rocky Mountains, to Sparwood, to Ram Falls, to Kananaskis, and to Red Deer Forestry. The Rotax 912-powered Merlin has proven to be a very capable aircraft. Though my Merlin has provided no end of satisfaction—from rebuilding it to all the local flying I’ve done with it—I started to want more. I knew there had to be more to flying than just going to Linden for pie, enjoyable a treat as that is.

I’d never made an extended cross-country trip, let alone a border crossing. Flying my Merlin to the US seemed intimidating, and I don’t think I would have considered it on my own. However, with an opportunity to tag along with Stu and Ken, I didn’t give it a second thought.

Since 9/11, the US of A, understandably, has become a bit sensitive about aircraft crossing their border. Preparation to make a trip to the US in an ultralight without a transponder can seem complicated. But it really is a matter of a bit of research and perseverance.

There is simply no way to have a seamless departure on a big trip. No matter how much you plan and prepare, the night before a big trip is never restful. Do you have everything packed? What have I forgotten? What if…? So you get almost no rest and get up extra early.

Aside from all of the concerns about a cross-border trip, the weather looked OK, but it was one of those days that you really didn’t know how the weather would be until you actually got into the air. This added to my pre-trip anxiety.

Day One

When I arrived at the airport, everything looked good. Weather seemed good, getting CZG loaded and ready to fly went faster than I thought, and there were no last-minute snags. I was itching to get airborne. Finally, I received a text from Stu that DDN and REN were on their way. We would meet in the air. Great!

“Indus traffic, Merlin Charlie Zulu Gulf rolling on 28, with a left-hand turnout for Portland, Oregon… Indus traffic.”

The trip from Calgary to the Crowsnest Pass was benign. Then began a game of dodging under and around the clouds that were building. Ken, with the faster aircraft, threaded his way through, then radioed back to Stu and me about the challenges we’d face. He said that once we were through the pass, it was clear sailing. This made decision-making a lot easier. Touchdown at Cranbrook, I felt great; the first step done!

Next the border…

Though I submitted applications to the FAA a couple of months earlier and received approval, we had changed our departure date, and I did not think to amend my crossing request. So when we called the border to notify them of our intended arrival time, they said CZG was not on the list of arrivals. Fortunately, Ken noticed the date error, US Customs accepted the explanation, and agreed to our arrival. This is a good example of how the process of border crossing is friendlier than you might think. Crossing the border was a highlight in my flying career.

Flying from the border to Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, proved to be a Snakes and Ladders game with shower cells. Again, Ken gave us status reports of the weather ahead. Real-time weather intel was priceless as Stu and I picked our way through and around the showers. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed with the flying, the weather, navigation, watching for traffic, and looking for the airport. So I was happy to lock onto Stu’s tail feathers and follow him in on KCOE’s runway 01.

As I taxied to the tie-down, my cell phone chirped a text message alert. Susan had been following me from Calgary on my SPOT tracker. “Welcome to Coeur d’Alene,” she texted.

Amazing technology like SPOT and texting has made a huge difference to my flying experience. It’s quite comforting to know that hundreds of miles away, my location is continuously monitored and I’m instantaneously in touch with home.

With CZG tied down, I felt like I had just finished the Ironman. With a restless night before, not much to eat, and a long day of intense flying, I felt exhausted but incredibly satisfied.

Day Two

I am sure I’ve had better sleeps, but I really can’t remember when. The weather on day two was a completely different story than on day one. Severe clear and light winds. Yessssss! Can’t wait to get in the air. Bring IT on!

The trip from Coeur d’Alene to Portland was a visual smorgasbord. It started with hilly wooded lake lands, then became barren plains with dust devils in Washington state. It soon changed to snow-covered peaks like Mount St. Helens and then to the coastal logging country of Oregon. Wow! There is simply no experience that compares to the geographic vistas from the air.

Our destination at Portland, actually Vancouver, Washington, was only 3 miles from Portland International’s busy airspace. Arriving mid-afternoon on a hot day made for an interesting time. I found a low stall speed isn’t always your friend. The mechanical turbulence and a nasty crosswind provided more action than I cared for.

On final, I transitioned from pilot to steer wrestler, locked in battle with a cantankerous beast. Pitching and rolling above the runway for what seemed like an eternity. With my heels dug in, we smacked onto the runway, the beast still bucking. Finally, my speed bled off and the battle subsided. I transitioned back to being a pilot and serenely taxied to the pumps. Geez, I sure hope no one saw that. “Got it all on video,” Simpson said with a grin, as I poured myself out of the plane.

Damn.

Day Three

We had originally planned to fly from Portland to McMinnville to see the Spruce Goose. But after checking the weather, we chose instead to take advantage of our rental car and not have to worry about the deteriorating afternoon flying conditions. Thus, we could more easily enjoy the day at the Evergreen Air Museum.

For me, it was a relief not to have to think about flying and to have a day off to drink in this amazing aeronautical museum.

I’d spent the better part of my life imagining what it would be like to actually see, touch, and feel the enormous flying enigma that is the Spruce Goose. It’s been a part of my being for such a long time, and I wondered if I’d be disappointed. I need not have worried.

We paid our fare and entered the museum. The entire place, enormous as it is, is absolutely dominated by the Spruce Goose. I stood there, awestruck, this phenomenon finally before me… goose bumps.

I know there are a lot of other fascinating aircraft in that museum, but I really couldn’t tell you what they are. I was totally captivated by NX37602, the Hughes H-4 Hercules, the world’s largest experimental seaplane.

The construction details of this plane are simply fascinating. The span is 320 feet. The fuselage is massive at 30 feet high and 218 feet long. The upper flight deck alone is larger than my living room. But for a huge aircraft with eight engines, the cockpit is remarkably sparse, though beautiful in its simple functionality. On the rear bulkhead of the flight deck, I spotted a 50-gallon oil tank to provide in-flight make-up oil for the engines. Two gas-powered, hand-started generators provided power to start the first two engines. At the rear of the flight deck is an entrance to passageways into each of the enormous wings. The flight engineer could easily access the eight Pratt & Whitney 4000 hp radial engines.

I savored every second of our time at Evergreen, drinking in the details of this magnificent piece of engineering and all its history and mystery. But the day had to end eventually, and we headed off back to Portland. I noticed on the way out that the entrance road to the museum is painted to resemble a runway.

Day 4

Our next destination on the trip was Snohomish Harvey Field. Getting there was another intense bit of flying, threading our way out of Portland and then through the busy Seattle airspace. Again, I kept DDN off my nose as Stu navigated us through the maze of airspace and the barrage of air traffic controllers’ instructions. This afforded me more time to keep an eye out for traffic. I saw some heavy stuff like C-17s and 767s. I know we were well clear of them, but they still appeared closer than I’d have liked. As well, we passed numerous light aircraft going every which way. After flying over what seemed to be an endless urban sprawl, Harvey Field, a small friendly airport, appeared and was a very welcome sight.

We capped off this amazing day by taking in a Seattle Mariners/New York Yankees ball game, complete with a foot-long hotdog and a brewskie.

Oh yeah… this is livin’!

Day 5

We piled into our rental car for a short drive to the Arlington Airshow. It was my first time attending this famous fly-in. It was a beautiful hot day, and the place was abuzz with aircraft of every flavor. It wasn’t long after we arrived and were wandering around the numerous pilot gadget peddlers when a couple of familiar faces appeared. Troy Branch and Carl Foreman had arrived that morning from Calgary. We shared the afternoon air show, like a mob of gawking meerkats huddled under the tail of Troy’s RV 10 hiding from the blazing hot sun.

After a great meal and more flying war stories, it was back to the comfort of an air-conditioned room with a hot shower. Unbridled luxury after the day in the heat. That night, I pecked on my Netbook, updated my Facebook status, emailed pictures, and our progress on Google Maps from the SPOT tracking website. Sharing our trip with spouses and friends day by day enhanced the adventure.

Day 6

It was time to start making our way back to Canada. For this day of flying, Stu and I chose a friendlier route through the Snoqualmie Pass with a planned fuel stop at Ellensburg. Ken chose a scenic shorter route, straight across the mountains to Coleville.

Enroute, Stu, gauging our progress, suggested we push on further than Ellensburg, to a place called Ephrata. Never heard of it, and neither had Stu, but it sounded good to me, so on we went.

Ephrata was an amazingly large airport in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. Along the trip, Ken and Stu had been reliving scenes from the movie “Always,” which, according to Stu, is one of the best flying movies ever.

After we finished fueling, we stood in front of the terminal at Ephrata, where I noticed Stu had a quizzical look on his face. We entered the terminal to file our border crossing plans.

For a very quiet airport, the terminal building was rather large and immaculately kept. On one side was a tiny museum; it told a story of Ephrata as a WWII bomber training base. This explained the large well-kept airport and terminal. On the other side of the building was a large briefing room, the perfect spot to file our flight plans. As we entered the room, a huge movie poster for the film “Always” dominated the wall.

“That’s it!” Stu exclaimed, “That’s why this place looks so familiar! This was the location for some of the movie scenes.” Cool…

From Ephrata, we headed east, then north to cross the border and spend the night in Castlegar as guests of Stu’s father. It was a beautiful trip, but once we crossed the border, afternoon showers were closing in. The tight valley at Castlegar felt like flying into a shoebox after the expansive plains of Washington State.

On the ramp at Castlegar, we stayed in our Merlins and called Canadian Customs. By the rules, we were obliged not to move from our planes until we were cleared. We fueled and tied down just ahead of a heavy shower.

After six days of hotels and restaurants, the gracious hospitality, numerous belly laughs, and home-cooked meals provided by Lionel and Laverne were welcome treats.

Day 7

From Castlegar, we flew north over Nelson and east to Crawford Bay en route to Kimberley and then a fuel stop at Invermere. It was a spectacular flight. At Kimberley, Ken elected a direct route and headed straight for home base at Carstairs. Stu and I continued on to Invermere.

We touched down in a brisk quartering crosswind, and I found that what used to be a tense type of landing for me now seemed routine.

The clouds were kissing the mountain tops as we followed the highway back to Banff. Past there, we broke out of the mountains to the prairie skies in front of us. It was a familiar and very welcome sight.

I shot a text to Susan, “Look out here we come.” She had been following us on SPOT, heard us coming, and watched from our fourth-floor condo balcony as the two homeward-bound Merlins passed by on the final leg of an incredible flying adventure.

Dragonfly 2 (my in-flight group call sign) broke off for Indus as Stu in Dragonfly 1 headed for Chestermere Kirkby Field. I touched down on runway 16 in a brisk south wind and had no problems with the landing. I felt confident, satisfied, and elated to be home. It was hard to comprehend how much we had experienced in the last 7 days, and I was already savoring the memories.

Final Thoughts

I can’t say that this experience has eclipsed my first solo flight in terms of a sense of accomplishment. However, it has changed what flying is for me. I’m more confident in my Merlin and will definitely be taking on longer and more adventurous trips in the future. I will still go to Linden for pie, though. And I’ll still love doing it.

It was truly a luxury to have the freedom to focus on trip preparation and actual flying without fussing over the details of the exact route or having to deal with how and where to cross the border. Ken and Stu planned that part of the trip superbly. I’m very grateful to them for providing me the opportunity to join them on this amazing flying adventure. This trip has fulfilled one of my lifelong dreams and has rejuvenated my passion for flying.