When you make millions of dollars for your clients, you get a lot of pretty interesting invitations. $5,000 cases of wine, lunches on superyachts, free tickets to the Olympics, and dates with movie stars (Hi, Cybil!).

So it was in that spirit that I made my way down to the beachside community of Oxnard, California just north of famed Malibu to meet long-term Mad Hedge follower, Richard Zeiler.

Richard is a man after my own heart, plowing his investment profits into vintage aircraft, specifically a 1929 Travel Air D-4-D.

At the height of the Roaring Twenties (which by the way we are now repeating), flappers danced the night away doing the Charleston and the bathtub gin flowed like water. Anything was possible, and the stock market soared.

In 1925, Clyde Cessna, Lloyd Stearman, and Walter Beech got together and founded the Travel Air Manufacturing Company in Wichita, Kansas. Their first order was to build ten biplanes to carry the US mail for $125,000.

The plane proved hugely successful, and Travel Air eventually manufactured 1,800 planes, making it the first large-scale general aviation plane built in the US. Then, in 1929, the stock market crashed, the Great Depression ensued, aircraft orders collapsed, and Travel Air disappeared in the waves of mergers and bankruptcies that followed.

A decade later, WWII broke out and Wichita produced the tens of thousands of the small planes used to train the pilots who won the war. They flew B-17 and B-25 bombers and P51 Mustangs, all of which I’ve flown myself. The name Travel Air was consigned to the history books.

Enter my friend Richard Zeiler. Richard started flying support missions during the Vietnam War and retired 20 years later as an Army Lieutenant Colonel. A successful investor, he was able to pursue his first love, restoring vintage aircraft.

Starting with a broken down 1929 Travel Air D4D wreck, he spent years begging, borrowing, and trading parts he found on the Internet and at air shows. Eventually, he bought 20 Travel Air airframes just to make one whole airplane, including the one used in the 1930 Academy Award-winning WWI movie “Hells Angels.”

By 2018, he returned it to pristine flying condition. The modernized plane has a 300 hp engine, carries 62 gallons of fuel, and can fly 550 miles in five hours, which is far longer than my own bladder range.

Richard then spent years attending air shows, producing movies, and even scattering the ashes of loved ones over the Pacific Ocean. He also made the 50-hour round trip to the annual air show in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. I have volunteered to copilot on a future trip.

Richard now claims over 5,000 hours flying tailwheel aircraft, probably more than anyone else in the world. Believe it or not, I am also one of the few living tailwheel-qualified pilots in the country left. Yes, antiques are flying antiques!

As for me, my flying career also goes back to the Vietnam era as well. As a war correspondent in Laos and Cambodia, I used to hold Swiss-made Pilatus Porter airplanes straight and level while my Air America pilot friend was looking for drop zones on the map, dodging bullets all the way.

I later obtained a proper British commercial pilot license over the bucolic English countryside, trained by a retired Battle of Britain Spitfire pilot. His favorite trick was to turn off the fuel and tell me that a German Messerschmidt had just shot out my engine and that I had to land immediately. He only turned the gas back on at 200 feet when my approach looked good. We did this more than 200 times.

By the time I moved back to the states and converted to a US commercial license, the FAA examiner was amazed at how well I could do emergency landings. Later, I added on additional licenses for instrument flying, night flying, and aerobatics.

Thanks to the largesse of Morgan Stanley during the 1980s, I had my own private twin-engine Cessna 421 in Europe for ten years at their expense where I clocked another 2,000 hours of flying time. That job had me landing on private golf courses so I could sell stocks to the Arab Prince owners. By 1990, I knew every landing strip in Europe and the Persian Gulf like the back of my hand. 

So, when the first Gulf War broke out the following year, the US Marine Corps came calling at my London home. They asked if I wanted to serve my country and I answered, “Hell, yes!” So, they drafted me as a combat pilot to fly support missions in Saudi Arabia.

I only got shot down once and escaped with a crushed L5 disk. It turns out that I crash better than anyone else I know. That’s important because they don’t let you practice crashing in flight school. It was too expensive.

My last few flying years have been more sedentary, flying as a volunteer spotter pilot in a Cessna-172 for Cal Fire during the state’s runaway wildfires. As long as you stay upwind there’s no smoke. The problem is that these days, there is almost nowhere in California that isn’t smokey. By the way, there are 2,000 other pilots on the volunteer list.

Eventually, I flew over 50 prewar and vintage aircraft, everything from a 1932 De Havilland Tiger Moth to a Russian MiG 29 fighter.

It was a clear, balmy day when I was escorted to the Travel Air’s hanger at Oxnard Airport. I carefully prechecked the aircraft and rotated the prop to circulate oil through the engine before firing it up. That reduced the wear and tear on the moving parts.

As they teach you in flight school, better to be on the ground wishing you could fly than being in the air wishing you were on the ground!

I donned my leather flying helmet, plugged in my headphones, received a clearance from the tower, and was good to go. I put on max power and was airborne in less than 100 yards. How do you tell if a pilot is happy? He has engine oil all over his teeth. After all, these are open-cockpit planes.

I made for the Malibu coast and thought it would be fun to buzz the local surfers at wave top level. I got a lot of cheers in return from my fellow thrill-seekers.

After a half-hour of low flying over elegant sailboats and looking for whales, I flew over the cornfields and flower farms of remote Ventura County and returned to Oxnard. I haven’t flown in a biplane in a while and that second wings really put up some drag. So, I had to give a burst of power on short finals to make the numbers. A taxi back to the hanger and my work there was done.

There are old pilots and there are bold pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots. I can attest to that.

Richard’s goal is to establish a new Southern California aviation museum at Oxnard airport. He created a non-profit 501 (3)(c), the Travel Air Aircraft Company, Inc. to achieve that goal, which has a very responsible and well-known board of directors. He has already assembled three other 1929 and 1930 Travel Air biplanes as part of the display.

The museum’s goal is to provide education, job training, restoration, maintenance, sightseeing rides, film production, and special events. All donations are tax-deductible. To make a donation, please email the president of the museum, my friend Richard Conrad at RConrad6110@gmail.com

Who knows, you might even get a ride in a nearly 100-year-old aircraft as part of a donation?

To watch the video of my joyride, please click here.

 

 

 

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