Happy Valentine's Day!

As always I'm up for a little aircraft-related history. This one is simply a card from the 20's (I guess). Happy Valentine's Day!

Lockheed and the Land of Waterfalls

I have to admit that I didn't choose this ad for the airplane or the destination. Sure the Lockheed Lodestar was a great little airplane and that South African Airways has a storied history, but it's the falls I'm interested in talking about.the nature of waterfalls.

Notice the one featured in the ad, the one that pours into...nothing. I'm interested in the land of disappearing waterfalls. Maybe it drops thousands of feet into an underground realm peopled by trolls, orcs, and goblins? Maybe it showers down on the lost city of Shangri La? All I can say is that doesn't happen in nature.

Pan AM and 7 Hours to Europe

I did a quick check and the standard flight time from New York to London hasn't changed since this ad ran back in 1959 when jet airlines were a new thing. The Pan Am Jet Clipper economy-class probably compared favorably with today's business class for amenities (sure, you couldn't get jabbed $500 for internet service, but who needs that) and most likely exceeded it for leg room and service. Yet today no air carrier can figure out how to treat their customers like anything more than cattle. Hmm...

TWA Travel

1950 and the skies are open for travel, at least to western Europe. In the background you can see one of the most iconic aircraft of the fifties. The Lockheed Constellation was the first big time airliner. It crossed the Atlantic to Paris and London carrying 95 passengers, a number that would make the big airlines of today squeal and want to charge $500 a bag for carry on luggage. Ah, but this was a different time, a time before the "shut up and sit down" model practiced by the airlines today. It was a time when TSA wouldn't tazer you into submission for approaching the fence separating the tarmac from the public parts of the airport. A simpler, more civil time and a perfect kickoff for travel season.

Steampunk Saturday - A Flying Ocean Liner (1927)

In an era when the only way to travel across the Atlantic (or Pacific) was by ocean liner, the thought of intercontinental air travel seemed fantastic and far-off. In fact, the only thing designers could agree on was that air travel across the ocean would be facilitated by the ability to make a safe water landing. World War I had featured a few flying boats, showing that taking off and landing on water was a possibility and utilizing the ocean as a runway meant that the need for the construction of expensive infrastructure (like aerodromes, runways, roads, and so forth) could be avoided. Thus, the concept of trans-Atlantic tourism by flying ocean liner was born, but it was far from becoming a reality.

The first mock-ups looked a little like a cross between Nemo's Nautilus and a flying fish. The craft was a biplane (of sorts) with eight engines and two decks. The first real trial runs for trans-Atlantic flying boat service wouldn't take place until the 1930's when Pan AM and BOAC made runs between Newfoundland and Foynes and passenger service didn't start until the 40's.

The era of the flying boat was a short one, though. World War II stopped leisure travel almost as soon as the first successful passenger runs had been made. When the war came to an end and the mess it created had been cleared away, the availability of good air infrastructure meant there wasn't a big need for landing on water. The military had built runways and airports throughout continental Europe and the UK. Who wanted to take a flight to the coast, land offshore, take a tender to the port, and then catch a train to their final destination when you simply could fly there? We were entering the era of fast and air travel was fast. Ah, I guess there's no nostalgia when the thing you're nostalgic for hasn't been lost yet.

I know that this image from the January 1927 issue of Popular Science is more dieselpunk than steampunk, but it still gets my imagination going. It's got a real Hayao Miyazaki thing going, a style that makes me think of far-flung island kingdoms where diesel and feudalism coexist and adventure is on the air.

The Funnies - Landing on Hay (1914)

A little early flight humor from Life Magazine, 1914

Indy 500 - Your Own Private Blimp?

May is the month of the blimp here in Indy, but back in 1930 Goodyear foresaw a futuristic era when we'd all hop aboard our private dirigibles for the family vacation. This ad from a 1930 issue of Boy's Life touts the company's growing fleet of airships and its usefulness as a luxurious means of long-distance transportation. Eighty four years later, in an era of airlines working on a way to charge you for the contents of your bladder, I'm not so sure the American consumer wouldn't be well served by the ability to choose LA via blimp from their list of travel options.

American Airlines DC-6B

Love the old travel ads, but this one makes you wonder which of those planes contain her lost luggage.

I've always had a thing for flying boats, so the China Clipper is a fascination for me. So, while shopping images, I perked up at seeing this shot in an article on Glenn Martin and Martin's construction of bombers and clippers from the May 1937 issue of Life Magazine. Take a close look at the nose of the plane and you'll see it, China Clipper.

I'll have to take some time to do a proper entry on the clipper soon, maybe this summer when the breeze is warm and a fellow's thoughts start turning to the sea.

The Funnies - Airline Service (1927)

Life magazine, November 1927

Happy National Aviation Day

On this date in 1871 Orville Wright was born to Bishop Milton and Susan Catharine Wright in the sleepy town of Dayton, Ohio. Orville and his brother Wilbur grew up in a family that, by all accounts, was loving and encouraged the intellectual curiosity which would eventually lead the pair achieving one of the most influential accomplishments of the 20^th century.

Orville went on to serve as one of the founding members of the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA) and remained an active member for 28 years. He received the Daniel Guggenheim Medal for great achievements in aeronautics on April 8, 1930 and became a member of the National Academy of Sciences in 1936. In 1939, President Franklin Roosevelt proclaimed Orville’s birthday as National Aviation Day, an observance meant to celebrate the history and development of aviation.

Orville passed away on January 30, 1948 having witnessed aviation’s transformation from what was considered a hobby for crackpots to a force which shaped nations and, to a large extent, determined the outcome of two world wars.

Travelling in Style

 

Pullman luxury from the 40s. I've taken a 40 hour-plus cross-country trip on Amtrak and the experience can be a harrowing one when you're travelling coach. I'm willing to wager that it's still better than an equivalent air trip, though. That is unless you really get into surly cabin staff, delays, lack of leg room, having your luggage lost, and being charged for breathable air.

 

A Pullman car is something different, though. It's like having a rolling economy hotel for the duration of your trip. Consider the cheapest room aboard an Amtrak train runs (as of today) about $350 one way. With the base-level room you get:

• Meals
• Picture window
• Two reclining seats which convert to a bed; upper berth which folds down from wall
• Restrooms, showers nearby in same train car
• Electrical outlets
• Climate control
• Individual reading lights
• Garment rack
• Fold-down table
• Fresh towels and bed linens
• Soap and shower amenities
• Personal service (turn-down, coffee, paper, make-up bed)
• Bottled water
• Daily newspaper

I've stayed in hotels that didn't offer as much.

 

So, right now you're probably asking, "Who has 40 hours to get to their destination?". The proverbial moose on the table is time, we've become a society that values instant over almost everything else. I concede that train travel to the coast for the weekend isn't viable unless you live, well, on the coast. I submit that as a society we might do well to reacquaint ourselves with time and distance. America is huge, five time zones (counting Hawaii and Alaska) of diversity and difference. Train travel gives you a real appreciation of just how big the US is and, maybe, an illustration of how different we all are.

The Year's First Sighting of the Goodyear Blimp

Just a quick note before heading out this morning, this week I caught the year's first glimpse of the Goodyear Blimp. I haven't seen it doing one of its nighttime advertising passes, but that will come eventually. Here's a nice historic photo of the blimp from 1931. This particular shot was taken over the now defunct Ford Airport in Michigan, but it went well with the era of 500 history I've been touching on lately.

Got any Indy 500 blimp memories? I'd like to hear them.

The 1910 Air Show at the Speedway

1910 and Airplanes at the Speedway

A year after the National Balloon Race, the Speedway played host to another display of the cutting edge technology of the era. In June of 1910 Indianapolis played host to a six-day air show which included an appearance by the Wright brothers and Walter Brookins' breaking of the world record for altitude.

Another favorite photo of the track is this panoramic image showing box kite like aircraft lumbering around the oval. In the background you can see an early dirigible as well as a monoplane. The picture was taken from the south end of the track, allowing a view of the beginnings of the pits and the fabulous pagoda on the front stretch, but what I find amazing is the lack of separation between the track and the spectators.

The wonderful site The First Super Speedway has a day-by-day run down of the air show's events and links to Indianapolis Star articles of the era in case you want to read up.

Up, Up, and Away...

A Panoramic View of the 1909 National Balloon Race held at the Speedway

You might think of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway as home to Indy car racing, a place where cars set speed records in a race that's steeped in tradition and history. You'd be right to think of the track this way, but it is and always has been a business venture. In fact, before the track's construction had finished its President, Carl Fisher, was thinking of ways to get a return on the money his investors had put into the track.

The National Balloon Race held on June 5th 1909 was organized as an attempt to recover some of this money. Construction of the track began in early April of 1909 and and, as you can see from the image above, it would be some time before the facility would be ready to host an automobile race. Carl Fisher always had been fascinated with aviation and he became the 21^st person in the United States to earn a balloonist’s license. According to the Indiana Historical Society site most of the spectators show in this image didn’t pay admission, instead they gathered outside the Speedway grounds to watch the show from afar.

A Photo Postcard of the 1909 National Balloon Race held at the Speedway

The amazing panoramic view of the pre-race preparations comes from the digital archives of the Indiana Historical Society and I highly recommend making a trip over to their site where you can zoom in to look at individuals in the crowd. I’m not sure about the positioning of this photo, but I believe it’s what will be the north end of the track.

There also are some great Indianapolis Star articles at the First Super Speedway site, take a look!

Colorado

Dear Reader,

Lafayette Colorado, a suburb of Denver and part of the run-up to the Rockies. If you haven’t guessed, I’m on another business trip. I’ve been on the road since July 12th and it’s been a tough one. Starting with an airline without a flight crew and ending with a cancelled flight and boarding passes that won’t print from the hotel business center. Road fatigue has set in and there’s no place I’d rather be than home right now.

The whole thing has been hours of meetings followed up with the traditional dining in restaurants and trading horror stories. None of the participants in this ritual really know one another and it’s not really about human relationship. This is akin to territorial displays, if we were peacocks we’d be flaring and shaking our tail feathers. The oldest or boldest win the day and the rest are relegated to listening and providing the obligatory laughter. The tab goes to the company and we stumble back to our hotel rooms to prepare to do it all again when the sun comes up.

I’ve decided I’m not a good group traveler. Outside of my wife and cat, I prefer the company of a good GPS system. Coordinating travel through the modern American airport is something akin to arranging peace talks in the Middle East. As I said, my first flight was delayed two hours because someone forgot it wouldn’t fly itself and my flight home already has been cancelled forcing a radical reroute. Imagine trying to target hitting the receiving airport in tune with three other travelers so that you can share a rental car. I believe I would rather have do it yourself dentistry.

There also are the quirks to deal with. I’m all for individuality – writing would be a very dull affair if every human being on the planet had a nice, level personality without irritating habits and grating tendencies. I will say that these oddities are a lot easier to tolerate when you have some emotional connection with the oddity’s owner. When you’re travelling for business the quirks become an irritating nucleus that’ll never morph into a pearl. However, at the end of the trip when you’re shut into your hotel room on that last night before the flight out, the absence of those irritations become a sort of vacuum. You’re left with your fatigue, longing for home, and the throbbing of the elevator down the hall and somehow that feels – empty.

On my last trip I wrote chapters. This time I’ve only got a few paragraphs and a little editing to show for myself. At three in the morning I head back into the whirlwind of the airport with the happy knowledge the turmoil will deliver me home again. In the meantime I can only pray for clear skies and no middle row seats.

Looking Back...

Dear Reader,

This is not a travel blog, it is a blog dedicated to writing. I keep repeating this phrase to myself as I put pixel to paper. In the wake of a - less than pleasurable - travel experience, however, I felt like posting something on the subject. Rather than tossing around accusations and uncouth inferences I thought that I would roll about in the nostalgia patch until I got the stink of modernity off myself.

The Stratocruiser was a pre-jet age plane that provided trans-Atlantic and coast to coast service to air travellers between 1947 and 1963. It was big and graceless, with four droning piston-driven engines keeping it in the sky, but inside its polished aluminum skin existed a world that travellers might dream wistfully of today. I offer diagrams.

Oh for the days when an airplane offered private staterooms and a forward berth with an attached bedroom. Surely a luxury item beyond the pocketbook of a poor, struggling novelist but knowing the possibility existed means something. If you look at the "custom-designed cabin" you'll note - no more than two seats per row and they have space between them. One might not feel like a canned sardine in a cabin like that! One might feel human and be inclined to dress for travel instead of wearing pajamas and sweat pants. Then again, I imagine in days gone by a trip through security didn't have so many similarities to being abducted by aliens.

I'm intrigued by the lower deck "Hawaiian Lounge". A part of me wants to believe there were shows with guys in grass skirts twirling flaming batons. It wouldn't be wise but it would be thrilling. Then again it'd be thrilling to order a tiki drink at thirty thousand feet while sitting at a bar instead of having service consist of trying to juggle a laptop, napkin, and plastic cup on a tray-table with your knees shoved under your chin.

The British Speedbird included men's and women's dressing rooms, a hat and coat room, and a snack bar. Personally I'm intrigued by the spiral staircase. Somewhat less descriptive (or imaginative) cutaway here but still - look at the midships cabin. Notice two seats per row and space between? In the late forties and fifties people had elbows. When the seventies came they were surgically removed at birth to assist with neat stacking of passengers on increasingly crowded mass transit. By 2050 I'm told we won't have legs below the knees, that way there can be two floors of five seat rows on DC9's.

More Airports, More Transition

Dear Reader,

Traveling seems to be my obsession lately. Maybe it’s a part of the general unrest that’s become my work life lately. With insecurity surely must come unrest and there’s nothing more restless than the modern airport. It’s a place of transience, a hallway between two states.

The first state is physical – you are traveling and that, reasonably, entails moving from one place to another. As I sit at the terminal, waiting for my flight, I watch dusty travelers bound for destinations across the country and around the world. There are the vanquished fans of the visiting football team, the road-weary business travelers heading for the next corporate call, and then there is the endless stream of bleary-eyed refugees. Even the flight crews are just passing through – either on their way to their next plane or home for a little sleep before taking off again.

The transition is more than physical, though. When I step through the doors and walk into the ticketing level of IND, my mental attitude changes. I’ve long lauded the ‘old fashion’ concept of air travel – the days when boarding a plane and was part of the enjoyment of traveling. There’s something lovely and nostalgic about pictures of stewardesses with little airline hats pushing carts of complementary comfort items down the broad aisle between rows of seats and travelers who dressed (jacket and tie and a nice dress for the ladies) to travel. Merely going from ticketing area to terminal destroys that image – the process is something like passing through a Star Trek transporter where you are disassembled molecule by molecule and reassembled on the other side of the x-ray machines. No amount of nostalgia can survive such a trip – its hard enough to maintain your dignity.

Security isn’t the problem. I don’t think you could find a single person who’d like to reduce airport security to the level that would allow crazies with exploding underwear to board of their own volition. Personally, I believe the blame for the death of pleasurable air travel on a variety of factors. Airports have become ticket kiosks attached to low quality, over priced strip malls. Airlines no longer have to provide service. Unless flying first class and on a luxury carrier the traveler is considered an irritating inconvenience instead of a customer. The airlines have strangled the service they provide down to the utter minimum and shoehorned as many travelers as possible into the smallest amount of space. And, unfortunately, I’m sure that it only will get worse until the air travel industry is forced to reinvent itself.

So, I sit here at terminal B7 waiting for my flight to Dallas. It isn’t dawn outside and when I look out the cantilevered windows I only see the lights of the waking city, the blinking indicators of the runways, and my own reflection. Everything else is uncertainty, a dark canvas to be filled in by the light that time will bring. After tomorrow I may have a secure future, a great new job, and an assurance that my life can move forward in some trajectory that resembles what I’d hoped for before the Great Economic Decline. Then again, maybe there’s only more uncertainty out there – another airport and more waiting and wondering.