Airplanes and horses have a lot in common. Both require a lot of maintenance to ride high in the saddle. After moving onto acreage perched on the cusp of a light-aircraft practice area, the horses won out. But it was hard to forget those aspirations of flight while flinging the manure into the delirious blue when a sunny weekend guaranteed an impromptu air show. The ears would be tuned to the puttering of a student’s C-152, or the powerful roar of an aerobatic engine. A lot of time was spent leaning on the pitchfork, looking up.
I figure if one can’t get inside an airplane, the next best thing is being near one. And there’s nothing I’d rather get closer to than a vintage airplane. It was the Canadian Museum of Flight that reopened the hangar door.
While attending the 2003 Canada Day festivities at the Langley Airport, I was enthralled when some of the museum aircraft circuited the field. But one really stoked my fancy; a cheery red and yellow cabin biplane. I tracked down a museum volunteer who told me the red and yellow biplane was the late “Doc Pickup’s 1937 Waco.”
A few days later I made my first visit to the museum. I think I spent at least three hours that day inspecting the Waco, looking at the displays and other aircraft, and chatting with the friendly volunteers. I also learned a bit about the Waco’s history plying our coast as a small-town doctor’s winged horse and buggy. The Waco was one of our province’s first air ambulance – saving the lives of countless fishermen, loggers, and other inhabitants of the nooks and crannies scattered along the coast.
A couple of months later while attending another public event, there was my cheery biplane again, wagging her wings at the crowd. Whenever I could steal a few hours away from the job or farm, I’d make my way back to the museum with notebook in hand. It is a good place for a budding writer; every airplane is entwined with a plethora of stories. But it was Doc Pickup’s Waco and its strong ties with our coastal heritage that always made the visit especially worthwhile. I called it the “Waco pick-me up.”
On May 27th, 2009, it was exactly one year to the day that I had lost a good friend to cancer. It was an overcast morning weather-wise and emotionally. An early-afternoon break in the clouds took me outside to sand rake the paddocks. I soon heard the approaching hum of another airplane. I knew the museum had been preparing the Waco for a trip to Alberta in celebration of Canada’s 100th anniversary of powered flight, but I had been too preoccupied to remember the exact departure date. Today would be just too uncanny. I ran for my binoculars and immediately recognized a familiar head-on silhouette coming my way. The Waco then flew directly overhead! More inspiration and cheer on a day that needed it the most. I waved and wished the pilot a safe trip and God speed home.
As I watched my favourite biplane fade into the distance, I think Doc Pickup must have been looking down and nodding in approval.
After all these years, his Waco is still uplifting souls.
Postscript: I have since flown with “the fine old lady” and that she is, indeed.
It was also a pleasure to interview Peggy Hogg, one of Doc Pickup’s nurses for an issue of Glidepath magazine. Thanks to the Canadian Museum of Flight for making this all possible.
