“But, we’ll be glad to at least get you out of here a little ways west out of Oshkosh,” Bill said, probably reading the dread or panic on my face and taking great sympathy on me.
"Oh, good!" I said. I wasn’t about to turn him down, even if it wouldn’t get me into Minnesota, the next state over. I was happy that at least he’d be getting me out of Oshkosh and to get a ride in his beautiful Luscombe Silvaire Sedan was a real privilege.
We took a few photos and loaded my bags onto the two-toned leather back seats. Bill stayed at Oshkosh for the last day of the show and his friend, Michael flew me to the place I am now writing this, at Portage County Airport, a quiet, old asphalt strip about about fifteen miles north of Madison, Wisconsin.
Here at Portage, Michael landed the Silvaire pretty hot, bouncing it back into the air and then coming down a bit hard on the mains. Ouch! Poor Michael. I felt bad for him. He explained that he was fairly new to flying. I wondered to myself how Bill had let him fly his gorgeous aircraft without him. After taxiing to a tie down spot, we inspected the landing gear, thankfully finding no visible damage, and celebrated our survival over lunch at the little restaurant beside the airfield.
