St. Louis 1969

In the spring of 1969 I was hired by an aircraft radio repair station at Long Beach, CA. Citizens Communication Center hired me to install their equipment sales in their customers aircraft. I held an A&P Mechanic certificate as well as an Inspection Authorization so I could authorize the installations for return to service. Their Repair Station Certificate was limited to bench work so they truly had a need for my services. However, the underlying reason for them hiring me was that they also owned a Starduster which they had previously raced with Joe Pribilo at the controls. My pitch was simple, I could hot-rod their engine, install a better cowling and cooling system , 'clean up' the airplane and (possibly) make it go faster. The airplane was called "Fam Dancy". The owners were Bill & Juney Michael and Gordon Renfroe. Gordon was the only pilot in the group but seemed uninterested in competing in the airplane himself. Gordon was probably near his piloting limits just flying "Fam Dancy" since he already had a waiver of demonstrated ability. This was due to a childhood affliction limiting growth of his left arm. He did however have the desire for the airplane to go faster.

The engine work consisted of 9.5:1 compression ratio pistons, port work, cam work and a Bendix PS carb overhaul. The new nose cowl required a longer prop extension and the balance of the cowl was striate forward flat sheet aluminum. The baffle system was also a simple flat sheet aluminum fabrication. On testing the engine seemed to need FAR more fuel than I had previously experienced so the carb was again sent off to Airmotive Carb in Burbank for enrichment. This left the final carb installation until until the last day before my departure for St Louis.

My pre-flight planning was deplorable! I was to fly with another Gordon, Gordon Nauta in yet another Starduster. We planned to fly the southern route to avoid the mountains and possible weather. It was mid-August. We left Long Beach in the afternoon. I had never flown east of the Colorado river and had flown off my chart before getting to the river. Our planned first stop was Kingman, AZ which is just 20 miles or so the other side of the river. We did not have the river in sight yet and my fuel gage was nearing E. I called Gordon on my Genave Alpha 200 transceiver and he said that Kingman was just a few more miles. I sweat bricks until the airplane was on the ground, where the engine quit on the runway during roll out. I pushed the airplane to the fuel pit, completely convinced that it had died due to fuel exhaustion. I went inside to reduce my spent coffee load and smoke a cigarette. The fuel pit guy was out there now so I went out and fueled the machine. Surprise! The airplane had some fuel left in it. A check of the tail pipes showed serious black residue so it had died on the runway due to over richness. Just about then one of those guys who wears a suit and plastic badge came out of the building, asking if I was the pilot of the airplane whose engine had died on the runway, and why had it quit. I sure was glad that I had just fueled the airplane and could explain the situation in a more acceptable manner than just a few minutes before.

Gordon and I flew the rest of the trip lying to each other. Even though I tried at every stop, I still did not get all the charts and flew off a chart at least two more times. This left me at Gordon's mercy in his estimation of the duration remaining to complete any given leg. If Gordon told me it was only 1/2 hour to our destination, I would tell him that I had 1/2 the fuel I actually saw on the fuel gage. This worked out OK.   The situation was that Gordon had more fuel onboard, had all the charts, burned less fuel and had several transcontinental trips in his background. On the other hand, I flew off my chart several times, burned more fuel, had navigation radio, had navigation lights but no cockpit lighting and had been cautioned by the airplane owner to NOT fly the airplane after dark.

We flew Hwy 66 for the most part 'till we got to Oklahoma where we were worried about making St Louis by the deadline of 10 AM Fri. From OK to East Sidalia, KS we were at 10,000' +/- and it was dusk when we arrived. We had to wait for the attendant to come out from town so it was dark when we departed. I was concerned about my flying after dark against the owners caution but as Gordon said, if we don't get there by the deadline the whole trip is for nothing. The owners had already left via airliner so I could not confer with them. I didn't like it but I was going to do it. The attendant was queried about the leg and he said that the river mostly paralleled our course and that we would see the beacons on the the barges which were run up & down the river at night due to the heat. Yea, sure, we never saw one of them.

The take off was uneventful except for the orange glow on the bottom of the upper wing. I called Gordon and asked him to take a look. He maneuvered a minute or two and then reported that the tail pipes had about 3 feet of orange flame coming from them. Stupid me, I knew the engine was running rich and that I had been leaning it for all operations throughout the day, with the use of an EGT gage. The (almost absolute) darkness in the cockpit had robbed me of the reminder on the EGT. I leaned the engine with my recollection of how far the control had been moved time and again that day, and by ear. Gordon reported that the pipes now had about 6-8" of blue coming from them. This seemed just fine with me and we agreed to continue.

To explain our arrival at St Louis I must define the equipment in the airplane a bit more. The Genave Alpha 200 was an either/or type of transceiver. That is to say that you could use it for communications or navigation but you could not do both simultaneously. Additionally, it used a small light system to tell the pilot whether the signal strength was adequate and whether one was going to or from the tuned station. The radio was mounted on the floor between the pilots lower legs. The ONLY light in the cockpit was these radio lights, one at at time. After a day and a half of flying the airplane I did not mind loosing just about all the instruments due to lack of illumination (all except the oil pressure). But Gordon did not have radio navigation capability.

I didn't even know what time it was or how long we'd been in the air. After what seemed an eternity without seeing any barge beacons I called Gordon and asked what he thought. He did not seem upset so I told him I would be off frequency for a bit while I attempted to use the nav radio. I had taken off my (unlit) wrist watch and held the face near the radio's light and found that from its reflection I could read the frequency selector. I had to call Gordon back to request that he read his chart for the frequency for St Louis omni which he did. Again I held my watch just so and selected 'nav' and the appropriate frequency. I was somewhat bent over to accomplish this and when I looked up Gordon's tail nav light was nowhere to be seen. Panic! I pulled the nose up a bit and found Gordon, Whew! Again, center the needle and read the heading. Damn. Lost Gordon again. Pull up, found him! Flip the radio to com and call Gordon with the heading to St Louis. About 10 minutes after a 20 degree (est) heading change I looked straight down and there was St Louis. Gordon asked them to blink the runway lights and in about 15 seconds I was on the ground.

The people at St Louis were absolutely great. Everyone asked how we were doing and how they might help or change things for next year. The hotel was a few minutes drive away and comfortable. My butt hurt. The metal flake tuck-n-roll upholstery looked far better than it rode. After my shower I looked at my cheeks and there was a silver dollar size black and blue bruise on each one.

Qualification showed that we could choose our race. That is to say, if we chose to finish a bit slower than we were capable of, we would be in the consolation race and we would probably win it. If we chose to run full-on in the heat we would run the main event in last place. The owners saw that the last place finish was worth $50 more than first in the consolation so we ran as fast as we could. The course was quite strange in that echelon takeoffs were necessary due to the runway width and Dallas Christian in Mongster suffered some damage on one takeoff, his wing being chewed up by another competitor. Takeoff was accomplished at right angles to the main straight-aways at mid course. In other words, we took off, crossed the front straight, turned left onto the back straight to round #4-#5 & #6 to start the race clock at the home pylon on the front straight. In my heat the engine quit on the second lap due to fuel starvation- I had forgotten to select the main tank rather than the nearly empty wing tank. OOPS! I recognized my error immediately, moved the valve and no one even knew, but me.

We finished last in the main. The presentation banquet was held at the hotel in which most all competitors were lodging. I sat next to Rivets owner/builder Bill Falck. I was in awe. I had looked at Rivets the first time I saw it at the Las Vegas races held near lake Mead in Boulder. I came home from that race with several questions for my aerodynamic engineer friend, all based on items seen on Rivets. Mr. Falck had earned a special and revered place in my heart. Back to the banquet. A special award was presented by another Formula I pilot, Nick Jones. He called it the "Rusty Dagger" award. It was presented along with a fifteen minute dissertation about some Italian, which had everyone rolling in the aisles. I don't remember the recipient but Dallas Christian deserved and probably received it.

The ride home from St Louis was very pleasant. Dallas Christian, Gordon Nauta and myself flew together to Salt Lake City where Gordon & I turned south toward St George, and then home to Long Beach. Back on the Plaines we had flown one of those 1/2" deep by 1/2 mile wide rivers for miles and miles at or below the tree tops, rat racing all the way. There was a thunder storm in our path somewhere in Wyoming. It was high, was not shooting sparks at the ground and the rain was almost virga in that most of it did not reach the ground. We flew under it with no consequence. There were many fuel stops but otherwise, especially compared to the trip out, the trip home was uneventful.

This was the only race at St. Louis. The promoters, the Policemen's Benefit Association seemed quite pleased with the outcome during the race and at the post race festivities but they never found it appropriate to hold another race.

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