As my 60th birthday rolled around, I wanted to celebrate by crossing an item off my Bucket List; birthdays ending with a zero deserve a little extra. I was unable to do this when I turned 50. I was unemployed while my pregnant wife supported both of us. Given those circumstances, we went out for dinner and a movie.
When Esther asked what I wanted to do for my 60th birthday, I said I wanted to fly in an open-cockpit biplane. She didn’t share my enthusiasm for flying like Snoopy sitting on his doghouse with the wind flowing through my hair. She preferred something we could do together.
If you’re new to my writing, you may not be aware of our family situation. Esther and I are the parents of an autistic child named Cristian. He qualifies for a home health aide, who takes him off the school bus and helps him with his homework, but date nights are different. So far this year, we’ve only had one.
After much research and planning, an area where Esther excels, she suggested visiting The Edge.
The Edge is one of New York’s newest observation decks in Hudson Yards. A few years earlier, we celebrated my birthday at the World Trade Center site. We went to the Observation Deck, visited the 9/11 Museum, and explored the Oculus, the underground plaza, as a couple, while a babysitter watched Cristian for us. It’s a favorite birthday memory. After seeing countless YouTube videos and Instagram posts, we were eager to see if The Edge lived up to the hype.
It didn’t disappoint.
While Cristian was in school, Esther and I spent the day as tourists. We loved the glass floors on the outdoor observation deck, and the walls that jutted out 1100 feet over the streets below. Holding hands, we browsed through shops and walked the High Line before grabbing lunch at Mercado Little Spain, a sprawling food market with diverse food options. We enjoyed seafood, assorted tapas, and bread from Galicia paired with a dry red wine. It was another memorable birthday spent with my favorite person.
But I still wanted to take a biplane ride.
A Google search led me to the American AirPower Museum at Republic Airport in Farmingdale. For those of you who only know about Long Island Iced Tea, and not the 118-mile-long island stretching eastward from New York Harbor towards the Atlantic Ocean, Republic is a local airport along Route 110 in Suffolk County.
I signed up for the 45-minute experience, which includes a 25-minute ride in a World War II-era 1942 Waco UPF-7 biplane over the beaches of Long Island’s South Shore. Using an online coupon, I paid $250. I’m a senior now, so using discount coupons is now a requirement.
I arrived early and started taking pictures as soon as I got out of the car because, as a college classmate told me, if you don’t post pictures, it never happened. I spotted a red biplane on the apron, waiting for the day’s flight.
Wandering around, I found the wing walker, the man from the ground crew who was there to help me. He was in his late 60s, dressed in an orange hat and T-shirt. I don’t remember his name, so I’m calling him Andy. After shaking hands, he joked that the pilot would be out in a minute. He’s finishing his double scotch.
“There’s a bar? I’ll join him for a double bourbon.”
An older gentleman dressed in flight gear greeted me. Holding out his hand, he said, “Hi, I’m Jim. I’m the pilot.”
He looked as old as the biplane. “I’m Frank. I’m looking forward to this. I turned 61 two days ago, and this is my birthday gift to myself.”
Since we were flying over water, Andy fitted me with a life preserver and asked me to jump onto the wing, then climb into the cockpit. The first part was simple, but climbing into the cockpit wasn’t for a 250-pound guy. He told me to grab two handles on the trailing edge of the wing and pull myself up, then slide into the seat. It felt like squeezing into a tight parking spot.
Buckling me into a four-point harness, He gave me the biplane equivalent of pre-flight instructions, which differed from a shapely twenty-four-year-old flight attendant pointing to the exits and miming how to place an oxygen mask over my face.
Andy explained that since we were flying over water, he was legally required to give me these instructions. Pointing to a small door on the side of the fuselage, he showed me a button to press to get out of my harness. “If the plane goes down, you need to open that door and jump out.”
I thought, “If this plane goes down, I’m fucked.”
Then, he handed me a headset with a microphone, so that Jim and I could communicate during the flight. I asked if it was safe to take pictures. Pointing, he said, “Just keep your phone below the top of the windshield. If it goes above here, you’re gonna lose it.”
The sounds of the tower were in my headset, and the plane began to vibrate as Jim prepared for the run-up. Slowly, we taxied to the runway, picked up speed, and took off. The headset was useful because the plane was loud.
My hair blew, and my ears popped as we flew at about 300 feet above Long Island’s South Shore at 90 miles an hour. Bouncing around in my seat, I heard Jim in my headset telling me to look right as we were flying over Jones Beach and Fire Island.
Then he asked, “How’s the flight, Frank?”
“It’s great.”
“Do you want to do a wing up?”
“Sure, what’s a wing up?”
The wind rushed through my hair as he banked the left wing down to a 45-degree angle and rolled the aircraft sideways.
“Wow! That was great. Could we do a barrel roll?”
Politely, he explained that an 80-year-old aircraft might not respond well to one of those.
Okay, so I don’t get to use my flight safety training.
We flew in a long loop on a beautiful summer afternoon. I saw the tower and runway in the distance, which told me the flight was ending. Soon, we landed with a hard bounce.
Andy climbed onto the wing, helping me out of the cockpit. I thanked Jim and Andy for helping me cross another item off my bucket list. The aviation geek in me went to check out the aircraft in the museum. Vintage WWII aircraft like the P-51 Mustang and the Douglas C-47 Skytrain were still operational.
Returning home, I placed a small red biplane on Cristian’s desk, and a Rosie the Riveter coffee mug on Esther’s. Replaying the day’s events in my head, I realized I ran the New York City Marathon four times, traveled cross-country by train. and flown in an open-cockpit biplane. I crossed several items off my list. I needed to replace them.
I applied for a writing residency at Yaddo, and during a recent vacation in Puerto Rico, I found something that intrigued me. El Monstro, a 1.5-mile zip line that stands over 1200 feet above the valley. It reaches speeds up to 95 miles an hour and is a popular destination for adrenaline junkies.
