Settling In
Posted Tuesday July 15, 2019
One of my concerns, outlined in the very first entry of this fine journalistic enterprise, was that by going to Oshkosh I was putting myself in the way of a lot of bigotry and people I severely don't agree with. I knew that for the most part people would stick to aviatory topics, so it wasn't an overt worry, but it was a running background concern.
In actual fact, what's happened so far in regard to those concerns has been the one tense conversation with the shuttle bus driver, and spotting a few pro-Trump clothing items, either for sale from vendors, or one or two MAGA hats I've seen in the wild (out of a sample size numbering into the tens of thousands today alone, that's a pretty small population). The topic hasn't really come up in conversation. Conversations have largely kept to aviation, though I haven't been engaging a lot of folks, perhaps due to this concern. In short, the anxiety far outstrips the reality, but that hadn't yet served to reduce the anxiety.
Today, however, that turned a corner. The first thing that made a difference was running into a LGBTQ pilots' organization. Possibly it was the National Gay Pilots' Association (the first hit on a search), though I remember the acronym having an S in it. I'll have to see again tomorrow.
In any case, that was a real shot in the arm. I finally felt like there were a few friendly people around. Shortly after that, I saw a bona fide goth chick pass me in the exhibition hall. I only saw her out of the corner of my eye, but something about her presence a few minutes after finding the LGBTQ organization put me distinctly at ease amidst the sea of conservative old white dudes.
Later in the day, after the main events had wound down for the evening, I discovered the social hours that a variety of vendors were putting on. They'd put out hors d'oeuvres and a free bar with beer and wine, and it was presumably a way to schmooze with potential customers. I hung around at one for Foreflight (a mobile app for pilots), and later wandered into a Piper event, drawn by the loud music, then an interest in what the modern version of a Cherokee looks like. I did much of my training in a Cherokee, and I retain a bit of a soft spot in my heart for them.
While I was wandering through the crowd, gathering the odd strawberry or cube of cheese, I ended up saying hello to a gent almost at random. We introduced ourselves, and he said he was waiting for some friends, casually mentioning that they were members of the LGBTQ pilots' organization I'd encountered earlier in the day. They showed up a minute later, and handshakes all around. I found myself suddenly in a surprisingly gay gaggle who turned in hilarious unison when a man with a particularly pert butt would walk by. It was a trifle cliche, but at the same time I felt a weight come off my shoulders.
I'm not gay by any measure that would show up on a typical gaydar, but I spend a lot of time around queer folks, and it's a comfortable place to be. In this context, it also meant I'd found a group of people who were not likely to be conservative jerks. I noticed that my manner almost immediately became brighter and happier. It was like finding a little bubble of home.
It was with a much lighter heart that I boarded the bus for my temporary home in the University of Wisconsin at Oshkosh dorms.
I should mention one stand-out feature of my dorm room. I first signed up for a non-A/C room, because the A/C room reservations were already full when I called in December. I put myself on the waitlist for an A/C room, because why not? When they called a few weeks ago and said I could get a cooled room for $50 per night more, I dawdled for a minute, but eventually realized that I would thank myself for spending the $300 when the actual event happened.
Actual room temperature: awesome
So the stand-out feature of my room? It's too cold: 60° F. That's not how I phrased it, but when I went to the front desk to ask if they understood how the thermostat works (a stunning example of how not to design a user interface if ever I saw one), the woman at the desk was so thrilled/gobsmacked to hear this complaint that she wrote down, "It is too cold" on a postit note and asked me to sign it, so she could show it to everyone else. I guess the normal complaint is that the A/C isn't working well enough. In any case, my complaint wasn't that it was too cold, but that if I couldn't get it a bit warmer I'd need more blanket. They supply a thin cotton blanket which would leave me shivering in a 60° room. I walked away with a total of four thin cotton blankets, and was just the right temperature last night.
But About the Event
Today was about forums, and looking through some of the parked airplanes.
I attended a forum called Aviate, Navigate, Communicate, which was nominally about how to respond sensibly to in-flight emergencies, but ended up mostly being about dealing with an engine-out situation. It was presented by an air traffic control person who's also a pilot, and he discussed his ideas for improving the ATC response the pilot emergencies. His big idea, which I fully support, is having the ATC operator plainly and clearly give the pilot the current prevailing wind direction. Without getting detailed, this gives you an advantage both for finding a safe place to land, and landing there safely.
This slide demonstrated to me: I've been doing it wrong
I also attended a forum on proper aircraft engine leaning. I knew this topic 20 years ago when I did my initial training, but that training has somehow gotten fuzzy in my head, so I was glad to have a refresher course. It was good that I did so, for as I watched him explain the various mixture settings a person can use, I saw that I've been accidentally setting Norbert's engine into just about the worst situation possible, by leaning until the engine stumbles, then richening the mixture way too much into what he called the "red box danger zone," where cylinder head temperatures are hottest. Sure enough, I've been seeing high cylinder head temperatures on my engine, but wasn't sure why. So that was a very good thing to re-learn, and may substantially prevent problems with Norbert's engine.
I was late to a forum with Bill Pancake (really), who is basically the most famous expert on Aeronca airplanes (Norbert is an Aeronca in all but name, the plans having been sold to a different company around the time it was made). I only heard the latter half of it, the bus from the university being far more popular than I'd imagined. Somehow I was thinking it was a bus in the sense of me getting on the #5 bus in Seattle. Instead, it's basically a two-stop route with everyone going from point A to point B at the same time. The was a hundred-deep line, and the bus I eventually got on was nearly half an hour later than the one I'd planned to catch. Note to self for the future.
Anyway, Bill Pancake's presentation was kind of rambling, but touched on some stuff I was interested in, including the fuel valve I had to replace on Norbert last year. I didn't learn anything radical or new to me, but it was good to see him in person.
I attended a forum presented by the inventor of CamGuard, an oil additive that appears to actually do something instead of just being snake oil, but was so sleepy after a quick lunch (I found a gardenburger! shock!) that I slept through half of it. He was talking about all the factors that go into oil degradation and how to solve them. It was good stuff, and I felt bad falling asleep.
There was also a lot of wandering today, as I saw more of the displays, and made a more systematic attempt to go through the exhibition halls. I saw three of the four, and my challenge for tomorrow will be remembering which one I haven't seen yet.
Hood ornament on a Pietentol AirCamper
I found a number of airplane lighting vendors, and had some good conversations about how to get a flashing light onto Norbert for legal night flying. It looks like AeroLEDs and Aveo both have something that will at least kind of work, though my ideal solution doesn't seem to exist thanks to the odd, non-standard light mounting positions Norbert already has. One of the many joys of a vintage plane. One of the interesting ideas we came up with was using one of the wingtip lights mounted on top of the tail, where the rear position light currently is. This would offer up the possibility of having a steady white light and a position strobe in one unit, though I'd have to disable the red or green forward-facing light somehow. Possibly just by painting over that section of the lens.
I also wandered through the aircraft parking, though I didn't see anything highly remarkable. There were a few biplanes here, but by far the largest number I saw were Beech Staggerwings. They're fine planes, but so advanced from what I'm building as to be irrelevant. Beechcraft is kind of the Cadillac of the aviation world, and I'm working on a scrappy little dune buggy.
Norbert the stuffed dragon came out and made an appearance in some of my photos today, as well. I figured I brought him along, he might as well get to see some Oshkosh sights too. I couldn't quite bring myself to set him down in the pilot's seat of a new Citabria (one of the evolutions of the Champ model I own), since there's a strong prohibition on touching any of the planes. I might go back and ask a salesman tomorrow, just for the photo op.
A neat welded Millenium Falcon outside the Lincoln Electric booth
I briefly saw Fidot after the afternoon airshow wrapped up, but it was just enough to exchange greetings. I was also unexpectedly greeted by two people I'd met on the way in: the guy with the converted taildragger Cessna 172 on tundra tires who got into Oshkosh early, and another guy with an RV-7 who I'd been chatting with at Wautoma. I think I'm still so overwhelmed by the event itself that I'm having a hard time pulling my attention away enough to watch the people as well.
For tomorrow, I'm hoping I can get myself to the airport in time for a 9:30 session on disassembling a Lycoming engine. This is a fascinating topic for me, as I'm 90% sure I'll be performing the operation myself at some point in the foreseeable future. It'll mean at least aiming for the 8:30 bus to make sure I'm there in time. Shouldn't be too hard, my body decided this morning that 5:30 was a fine time to wake up.
Copyright © 2019 by Ian Johnston.