
By MIKE HALSTEAD
It was 9 a.m. on a beautiful Wisconsin summer morning. I looked over at my copilot and wife.
“I don’t like this!” she said nervously. “But it’s better than the last time.”
My wife, Jeanette, has been my cross-country companion for the last 12 years since we bought the Cessna 206. She watches the yoke-mounted Garmin with ADS-B and keeps track of the weather, towers, and close traffic.
What didn’t she like? On her screen there was no less than 30 planes in our vicinity headed to the same destination: EAA AirVenture Oshkosh 2023.

Looking out the window I was quick to verify the situation. On the Ripon-Fisk approach to Oshkosh, we were expected to all be in a line, 90 knots and 1,800 feet with one-half mile separation. Over half of the planes were in line where they were supposed to be. The rest seemed either a little too fast, too slow, too high or, according to my wife, way too close!
Out every window I could see a plane. I had a huge grin on my face and said reassuringly, “Isn’t this wonderful…at least we are all going the same direction!”
She wasn’t quite in full agreement.
The “last time” she was referring to was a couple years before. The Oshkosh airport was IFR all morning and when the ceiling lifted at 11 a.m., hundreds of planes descended on this very same approach. Like a swarm of bees, we flew in a great conga line. I had never before seen such a thing, but remember feeling lucky to be a part of it!
We were now 17 miles out with Green Lake to my left. A few new planes were entering our line, causing some real-time spacing problems.
While all of this was happening, I found myself a little low and a bit slow. Pushing in the throttle, a yellow light on the EDM engine monitor popped on and immediately turned red. Glancing over I saw one of the cylinders climbing over 500°.

Remembering to “fly the plane” first, I kept my eyes out the window and increased the mixture to cool it down. The red light quickly went out and we continued on.
Listening to the radio, it seemed there was a holdup at the airport and the controller was sending half or more of the planes on a 50-mile diversion back around to Endeavor bridge.
Nearing Fisk, my wife pointed and said “look out!” as a Beechcraft dropped in from 300 feet above and squeezed between myself and the Cub I was following.
A minute later, the controller said, “Beechcraft rock your wings.”
Now I don’t normally wish bad news on anyone, but my wife and I both smiled and laughed a little when the controller said “Beechcraft, left turn to Endeavor bridge.”
The next thing I heard was “White Cessna with the big tires, rock your wings.”
I obeyed and he came back with the most beautiful of words, “Good rock, make a right eastbound and follow the yellow Cub, left traffic for 36.”
We were in!

This was the fourth day of the trip from Oregon to Oshkosh. We had spent two nights in Sturgis, South Dakota, and visited the old frontier town of Deadwood.
After a night in Minnesota, we got an early start for the hour and a half flight to the famous Wittman Regional Airport (KOSH), home to the Experimental Aircraft Association and its annual fly-in.

The way the Cessna 206 is outfitted, we never plan for more than 120 knots. With the four back seats removed, we still somehow seem to fill the plane with all the stuff we will never use.
On top of the 36-inch tundra tires, and all the survival and camping gear, we have the extra weight of a turbo, tip tanks, TKS ice protection, and oxygen.
Whether it’s hunting in Hells Canyon, flying up the trench to Alaska, or the smooth pavement of any little airport that has a courtesy car, we hope to have all the things we might need.

Back to our Oshkosh arrival: A left turn to final and there it is, the infamous dot. We hit it right on and 30 seconds later we were in the grass following the orange vests.
With our GAC sign in the window (short for General Aviation Camping), we proceeded in the long line of planes that would take us to the South Forty nearly two miles away.
We slowly taxied through Vintage Aviation Camping, more than a little jealous of how close they were to center of everything.
“Oh, if N7000L was just five years older!” I lamented.
As we taxied, I couldn’t help but notice how friendly everyone was. An orange-vested volunteer waved and pointed, I waved back. Then a pilot next to his parked plane waved and pointed.
I suddenly realized they weren’t saying “Welcome to Oshkosh,” they were pointing at all the smoke and oil coming from the left exhaust of the engine compartment.
Smoke that I could barely see, even out of my freshly installed bubble side window.
I lifted the headset away from my good ear and could hear a distinctive pop, pop, pop. It was difficult continuing the 20-minute taxi thinking I could be causing more damage.
It’s been said, “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” Well, luckily sometimes there is just smoke.
Not being able to see what they were seeing, I reached down between the seats and cleared the empty coffee cup, motel muffin, and airport charts that were resting on the fire extinguisher. I then informed my wife of our possible quick exit from the plane if something went awry. She was cool as a cucumber now that we were on the ground. As we finally pulled into our designated spot, I shut down the engine.
Climbing out, I only saw oil coating the lower side and underbelly. The vain side of me grabbed a towel and started wiping. Got to keep the plane pretty.
As I stood there it finally hit me: We might be stuck here for a while.

Surprise
This next part of the story took me by surprise. Not two minutes after we shut down, a golf cart pulled up with three gentlemen. They hopped out and started to ask questions.
After the cowling was removed, two of them began a deep diagnostic conversation.
As I stood there with my hand on the prop spinner, truly amazed that help was so quickly offered, the third gentleman whispered to me, “Do you know who that guy is? That’s Joe Brown, the past president and now chairman of Hartzell Propeller.”
I smiled and nonchalantly slid my hand up the prop to cover the big McCauley prop sticker. Joe looked at me and with a slight smile said, “That’s okay.”
After the initial assessment, I went for a ride with Joe in the golf cart who, as an Oshkosh regular, made great haste and knew all the short cuts. We drove straight to the Continental tent where he talked for a few minutes with two men before all of us returned to the plane.
It was awesome to watch as they slowly pulled the prop through on the 310-horse motor. The “engine whisperers” gently listened to every little sound of air moving, air leaking, every tick, feel of compression or release of air.

Even with the cylinders covered by turbo and exhaust piping, in just a few minutes, they were in agreement that the #4 cylinder had a big crack in it at the head.
It was serious enough that at higher manifold pressure, it could have come apart with a loud bang and an emergency landing in a bean field near the town of Fisk.
Or, as is always the possibility, somewhere not quite as soft.

In two more hours after just a few phone calls and the use of long-time connections, they found us a shop on the field that could tow the plane and would squeeze us in for a cylinder swap the next week.
All those people with so much to do, yet they took care of us like family!
A commercial flight shortened the trip home but added a really fun return leg two weeks later. We took five days getting home, saw four new towns, and even made it to the SPAM Museum in Austin, Minnesota.

Lessons Learned
So what is there to learn from this journey?
First, it’s good having a best friend to fly with.
Second, there is no end to the beauty of these great United States when you’re looking out the window, flying low.
And, lastly, the people who volunteer and attend EAA AirVenture Oshkosh are the nicest people around.
I’m proud to be part of the whole aviation family. You can always tell who they are. They don’t stand out in a crowd — until a plane flies over. They are the ones who just can’t help but look up!
Great story, and 100% true. Aviation folks are almost always eager to help other aviation folks.
Enjoy the week!
Thank you for sharing your experience and story. It was such a pleasure reading it. I can’t wait to experience the “family” once we arrive tomorrow. My first time but my husband has been a few times year’s ago. ❤️
Great story thanks for sharing so happy y’all got in safe and I totally agree 💯 people up here in Oshkosh are awesome I’m from Florida my 1st husband is from here our boys when they were growing up use to fly into Wittman Airport every year to come see their Grandpa that was the good ole days, anyway God bless and may y’all have a great time and safe travels 🙏❤️🙏
Was Crew Chief on a B-25 arrival at EAA AirVenture Oshkosh many years ago. On post flight walkaround found some needed cowling sheet metal repairs and asked a volunteer
if he knew anyone that could offer assistance. Within a short time he returned with an Airline A&P volunteer with the proper tools and know how to perform emergency repairs to get us back home. Signed our maintenace log and we were all on way in short order. Glad to know things haven’t changed after all these years. The best in aviation on display there include the people.