By Kristi Dunks, EAA Lifetime 689578, Vintage 732804
I probably come by it naturally given that my dad was a truckdriver for most of his life, but I must admit that the fun and connections I could find in driving thousands of miles to support my aviation dreams had not occurred to me. It all started when I bought an Aeronca C-3 restoration project in Warrenton, Virginia. While initially I had planned to trailer the project home, I could see the concern in owner Ken Hyde’s face thinking about this little airplane he had loved for so many years driving across the country through hail, snowstorms, and whatever else the road had to offer a late fall drive from Virginia to Montana. I ended up renting a moving truck so the airplane could be safely secured inside, and, once I did, I could see the lines of concern slowly disappear from his face.
Ken had told me that the C-3’s history involved spending part of its life on floats operating in the Potomac River, and the aircraft logs confirmed this with the installation of floats in the 1950s. As I have been restoring the airplane, I have been keeping an eye on floats coming up for sale. In August of this year, the perfect set of floats came up along with an extra set for parts, 1937 EDO 1070s being sold by Paul Isaakson. I would need to drive the floats from Amery, Wisconsin, back to Montana, and the soonest I could make the trip was October given I had just been in Wisconsin for AirVenture. I sent the word out that if anyone needed anything moved between Wisconsin and Montana, I would have extra room.
You always have to appreciate when your friends are listening. About a week prior to the trip, Tim Talen of the Oregon Aviation Historical Society and all-around master airplane restorer reached out to ask me when I was going and that there was a Porterfield up for bid in Wisconsin that he would like delivered to Montana. I wished him luck and before we knew it, he was the proud new owner of a Porterfield project sold by the 88CHARLIES, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization in Palmyra, Wisconsin, that provides youths aged 12-18 hands-on opportunities to explore aviation as a career or hobby. Once we figured out the dimensions, we realized we would have to upsize the truck not just one, but two sizes to fit the length of the Porterfield. I would also fly into Madison instead of Minneapolis a day earlier to cut time from the drive. The 88CHARLIES let me know that four members from the nonprofit would meet me at the Palmyra airport to help load and secure the airplane.
As I packed tie downs and a pair of work gloves into my carry-on for the commercial flight, I wondered if the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) would wonder what I was up to. They didn’t give it a second glance and soon I was on my way to Wisconsin.
After landing in Madison and picking up a moving truck, I made my way to Palmyra Municipal Airport (88C) to pick up the Porterfield. The route took me on old highways and backroads, and once I reached the farthest hangar row on the west end of the airport, I could see two hangar doors open, and I pulled up alongside the first one. After meeting several of the guys, I was told to drive down to the next open hangar that the airplane was stored in there. Before we got started, someone told me not to scream but to hold out my hand. I looked down to find a wooly bear caterpillar in my hand. They said you could tell what kind of winter was coming, depending on how the colors lined out. All signs were pointing to a good one.
With the important details out of the way, we set to work hanging the wings from each of the side walls and then wrapping and securing the ailerons, elevators, and rudder to the truck overhang area. We then moved the fuselage in, securing all the various parts and pieces around it. After about 3.5 hours, I drove away not only with the airplane project, but with some new aviation friends. Grant Van Den Heauvel, Mike Devroy, Al Borre, and Doug Tomas with the 88CHARLIES made the loading process a breeze. Fortunately, there was still room for the floats!
I arrived at Amery at 9 a.m. the next day. There was a hangar door open, and I briefly chatted with a pilot who was working on his airplane, asking him where I could find Paul. His hangar was a few down the way and when I mentioned I was close, the pilot reminded me that, “Close only counts in horseshoes,” a refrain I heard at least three times since arriving in Wisconsin.
With limited space, we set the four floats along the sides of the Porterfield fuselage and after wrapping them in blankets, tied each down to the sideboard on the walls of the truck. Paul told me how he had found the floats in Florida many years ago. We then walked over to another hangar to retrieve a float plug. Inside Paul showed me two airplanes he was working on or had restored, one was a beautiful recently completed 1929 Heath Super Parasol. Paul was awarded EAA’s Outstanding Closed Cockpit Monoplane in the Silver age group (1928-1936) for his restoration of a 1936 Taylorcraft J-2 Cub at AirVenture in 2023.
Walking back to the truck, Paul and I discussed the adventure of restoring antique airplanes and all the history tied to each. With a long road ahead, it was time to start the drive home. We shook hands, and I was on my way.
Driving home through the crisp fall day was full of aviation thoughts and the history surrounding the cargo I was transporting. EDO Aircraft Corporation was founded in 1925 in College Point, New York. Now the name and rights for EDO floats belong to Kenmore Air in Seattle, Washington. American Eagle Aircraft Corporation was the start of Edward E. Porterfield’s aircraft manufacturing dream in 1925 in Kansas City, Missouri, due to demands for light training aircraft. Following the Great Depression, he founded Porterfield Aircraft Corporation in the 1930s, manufacturing the popular Porterfield 35 and Porterfield Collegiate.
When I finally arrived in Montana, my family helped me move the floats into their new home. I woke to pouring rain on the following day for the delivery of the Porterfield, about 65 miles away. With the rain coming down and a handful of early snowflakes falling as I passed over the mountains, I concluded that a muddy dirt road delivery was a fitting way to complete this 1,611-mile adventure. As the projects find new life in Montana and the cleared spaces in Wisconsin await what’s next, the enduring connections guarantee that these cherished pieces of aviation history continue to be an important part of aviation’s future.
