Soon it was time to head West again and so on the 19th April I left Ames field West Florida , waving goodbye to all, and headed across some very wild country towards my next stop at Panama City Florida, a beautiful seaside resort. I had 200 miles to cover and had arranged to meet up with Mike Highsmith [Firehawk] and his fellow flier Richard [retired Navy]. I had the coordinates of his private field, which is called Panama City Beach Airport . They were to meet me at Quincy Field about 40 miles to the east of Panama and guide me through the complicated and dangerous restricted military testing areas and the desolate forest and swamplands around them.

At Quincy I found that they had just left after waiting 4 hours for me [a breakdown in communication] and now with only one and half hours of daylight left I decided to head for a chart designated airfield called Sandy Creek to the East of Mike rather than take the chance of missing his strip and flying around in the dark and possibly into restricted airspace.

I landed at Sandy Creek as darkness fell and was immediately met by Ed a member of the local EAA Chapter [Experimental Aircraft Assoc]. He was on his way to a chapter meeting at the airfield and signalled me to follow his truck . At first I thought he was joking as he left the taxiway and began to lead me along a road fronting a row of houses with mailboxes, fresh cut lawns and twitching curtains [drapes]. It then slowly dawned on me that this was an "Airpark" when I began to see aircraft parked in the drives instead of cars!

This is a great American idea where you build your home alongside the runway facing in and use your car only for short journeys to the supermarket. This was a first for me as Ed led me to a big posh house on the end where I was met by a lovely retired couple, Karibian and Mary Louise, with a short word of greeting. I was shown to a huge bedroom with its own adjoining bathroom and left to it - all within the space of a few minutes! At first I thought they had mistaken me for some jetsetting businessman so I thought 'keep your mouth shut Dave [hard for me] and get a shower before they realise you are some scruffy British microlight flier and throw you out'. I managed to get a shower and even sit on the huge bed before Lou [Mary Louise] arrived with a big smile and a can of beer and suggested I tie my microlight down on the front lawn and be quick as the local bloodsucking sand flies bite hard and deep. I thought she still hadn't realised who I was so nearly choked on the beer getting it down before it was snatched from me and I was told to get into my funny little Limey machine and take a hike. Of course nothing could be further from the truth - this was yet another example of down to earth genuine American hospitality. [I threw the second beer down faster than the first though just in case]

Karibian and Lou had spent much of their lives working in the Middle East. Karibian is a specialist engineer and rebuilds army tanks. The next morning they headed off to New England, to family for a holiday. This is where Lou's heart lies and they hope to move back up there soon. Best of luck to them , lovely people.

They had already contacted Richard who arrived within a few minutes and whisked me off to breakfast. He had contacted Mike who was to fly over from Panama City in his Ferguson Ultralight. Mike and his wife Cindy live alongside the fairway of a local golf course and although a he is master builder he could easily make his fortune selling off the golf balls that land in his garden each day. Instead he builds luxury homes and loves it. He will only build one at a time and he puts everything of himself into it , a real proud professional. He built his own place and if that is anything to go by he must have a long order book.

By now the wind was picking up and I was unable to leave for a few days, so we spent the time at the airfield with me adjusting my prop and Mike designing a new canopy - frequently interrupted by his cell phone and sub contractors looking for info. He is building the house next door to his own so each morning he has the long trek across the lawn, pausing for a coffee break at the fence before continuing the long trek to the site where he hands out his very exacting orders. The tradesmen must dread working for him as "second best" and "it will do" are alien terms to this man.

By now the wind was beginning to subside and early in the morning we set off for Defuniac Springs my next stop on my route into Pesacola Florida and my last in this state before crossing Alabama and Mississippi . Mike led the way with frequent 360 degree turns to allow me to catch up in my much slower machine The headwind was fresh and the air very turbulent, and it was a long bumpy ride into Defuniac. After a while we were contacted on the radio by Bob, a Rans Flier and a Warp Drive agent We could talk to him 80 miles away! He joined us as we landed and gave me some valuable prop advice before he and Mike climbed aboard their machines and shot southeast. I was on my own again.

After a quick word with the airport manager Mike Gifford, who made me feel very much at home, I nipped across the road to a garage for fuel and topped up ready for the trip to Pensacola . By now the air had really warmed up and I had a roller coaster ride second to none all the way to Coastal Pensacola Airport. If that wasn't enough, I had to pass directly across Eglin Air Base where many missile and fighter tests are carried out .I was on the edge of their airspace and legal but that didn't help the crick in my neck from continuously looking left and vainly hoping I could be fast enough to dodge the odd stray cruise missile; sweating profusely I made it through.

Pensacola is a huge Military Naval Fighter base home to the Blue Angels jet aerobatic team [just like the Red Arrows in the UK]. The local Ultralight Club is named after them and are known as the Lite Blue Angels. As I taxied off the runway at Coastal Airfield I was met by Ian Garnham and his very experienced instructor Dennis, who immediately slapped a club sticker on my trike.The Next day after meeting Ian's wife Mary and the family including Mickie his daughter and her husband Brad, a Marine Corp Officer, we headed off to the Naval Aircraft Museum at the base, a fantastic array of just about everything the US Navy had ever put in the air and it was free.

Ian is an ex Englishman from Southport, very near to my home town and our flying club at Ince Blundell [see the link on Nicks Micro Pages]. His father emigrated to the USA when he was 14 yrs and when old enough he was drafted into the Navy as deck maintenance crew servicing the fighters on various aircraft carriers in the Vietnam war.He quickly worked his way up in the ranks and when it was all over applied to stay as a career and was refused !! An application and a complaint to a Senator quickly produced a certificate giving him citizenship and he made a lifetime career out of it .

Ian was the ideal guide around the museum and showed me many things the public would not get to know from the official guide. That night the wind howled and the rain poured down accompanied by continuous streaks of lightning of a type never seen in the UK; it didn't look good for tomorrow's departure.

The next day we drove across the state line into Alabama and to an airfield where Ian's friend Dave, a long distance truck driver, is building a hanger with the help of various Ultralight friends. He is single so in this remote area he will build his home inside the hanger! [Try and get away with that in the UK]. In the center of the home within the hanger he is building a toilet [restroom to the Yanks] made from heavy blocks reinforced with steel rods, and when the hurricanes come he intends to strap himself onto the toilet with a case of beer and sit it out in safety. [It could only happen in America.]

The next day April 25th the weather had calmed and we went to the airfield to prepare to fly on to Alabama and the West. Ian had called the local TV station channel 3 and the interviewer and cameraman waited while I loaded my equipment in all the many nooks and crannies on the trike. A quick interview and goodbyes to all then I took off with the rising sun behind me to cross Alabama and into South Mississippi Light Aircraft airfield, a distance of 77 miles. I had the usual headwind - this time light - and made good time with little turbulence for a change. The turbulence soon picked up as the sun rose higher, so I flew higher to avoid it and give myself some thinking time should my engine fail and I have to land into the vast desolate areas and swampland below.

1 1/2 hours later I began my long descent into SMLA and at 2000 ft the good old heat turbulence was awaiting. On final approach it hit really bad due to the many trees lining the runway and the stiff breeze. It was hard to control my approach as I was thrown violently from side to side and up and down just like a rollercoaster I had just about decided to power out and try again when the ground effect took over and I was down and needing the toilet badly.

SMLA is the home of Ron Smith, one of the very few authorised Rotax service engineers in the USA. After looking around his operation I was impressed - the workshops were spotless and he carries countless spares all for ultralight Rotax users. He gave me a lot of free advice on how to service my Rotax 912 while here in the US and gave my engine a quick once over. He immediatly spotted the pair of steel pliers I had placed 1/2 inch from the prop just in case I should need them in flight !!?? Very embarassed and now a paler colour I spluttered some lame excuse and went quickly back to the toilet; that could have been disastrous!

Mike at Panama - Ron has your pliers. I didn't need to adjust the prop in flight as you suggested I might?

Ron supplied me with a few basic parts and some fuel to get me into Louisiana and I sat down in the shade for the heat of the day to pass to avoid the fairground in the sky and promply fell asleep.