The engines of three old warhorses woke me up. My tent is next to the taxi-way parallel to runway 22. While they get ready for three fly-bys in tight, heat formation, I get busy killing all the fat, bloody mosquitos on the roof of the tent and take my table cloth outside to cover the dewy, wet grass for a front row seat. My youngest son Steve also wakes up, griping that his air mattress went flat that he is itching all over from mosquito bites. I assemble the Sterno to heat water, and we both enjoy excellent hot coffee. Ant-covered doughnuts also taste good after the beasts were removed. Fly-ins certainly include insects.

Our 5021 Hotel, Julius and Steve Heinis

            All the while airplanes are landing, taking off and flying by while the portable radio gives us their aerial broadcasts. Steve soon walks away to make friends with the other camper-flyer three planes down the row, while I sit here writing down my impressions.

            There must be over one hundred planes here at the Cracker fly-in Gainesville, Georgia on this 4th of July weekend. There is no formal program; everyone makes his own, along with meeting old friends and making new ones. The central theme seems to be antiques, rebuilts and experimental airplanes. Many are real beauties, and most carry signs: “Do Not Touch, 5000 Hours of Labor...”. “How could you ever fly these machine without touching?” I ask a guy. He is not amused, though, and mumbles something about corrosion induced by sweaty fingers. All Swifts of the Southeast must be here. They show a lot of TLC (Tender Loving Care), and each pilot likes to show off his flying skill. Four VariEZ’s also get in the act with several thrilling fly-bys. They are fast, ad the guys are having fun, Of the two Mustangs on the field, one still has six gun-holes - plugged, of course. Stearmans, Fairchilds, Taylorcrafts, Aeroncas, and perhaps a dozen homebuilts are gracing the airport lawn. Cessna 195, Ercoups, and Travelairs of great beauty attract many viewers. Three or four airplanes have “For Sale” signs, and it seems kind of sad that someone has to sell his pride and joy for budgetary reasons.

VariEZs inspected by Steve		Swifts, beautiful and fast!

            Not being a member of any group (EAA or AAA) nor an official reporter, I am not attending any meetings or official functions. It is just my Skyhawk, my son and myself. How come no-one writes about the silent majority? There are dozens of beautiful Cessna Skyhawks (172), Skylanes, And many Cessna 150’s Cherokees, Tomahawks, Beechcrafts, Mooneyes, and Tripacers with all their relatives in three long, neat rows. What are fly-ins without these family-birds? Each one of them braves distances, weather, and expenses to fly from fly-in to fly-in to... Real unsung heroes, all of us.

            At 9:00 A.M. the field starts showing more and more exciting activity. I want to fly, too and decide on a spin north to see the mountains. But taking off is a problem, as plane after plane comes in announcing “turning final, runway 29 for landing”. “Hey guys, give me a break”, I announce over 122.8. “It’s OK by me2, someone says, and off we go. We fly past lakes, rivers, forests and winding roads to the North Carolina line, homing on Harris VOR and staying clear of mountains (up to 4800 feet) and clouds. It’s pretty up here! On our return to Gainesville, one hour later, traffic is still steady but not too hectic. The tent is still here, and we settle in for a long, hot afternoon, just letting the fly-in soak in. “This is total immersion, I tell Steve.

            Now and then some old warbirds make roaring fly-bys. A tiny, red Pitt plays leap-frog with two old J-2’s. At dawn, a Pterodactyl (motor glider) drops in and makes one wonder how it feels a thousand feet up in the air without benefit of a cozy cabin.  The young pilot flies with and without his lawnmower engine running.

            I meet many Bills, Joes, Petes, Steves, etc. from many places. No fancy discourses, just flying-talk. Of course, there are some expert pilots who have their women spit-polish hheir antiques.  Some men even helped, holding a beer can in hand. What a life!  But then, it is extremely hot and in the nineties!

            Organization? There hardly seems to be any, everything goes on spontaneously, and there is not even an admission charge. How does it all end?  Well, one just flies away.