Les Berven and I grew up in Loyalton, California during the
1950s. We played trumpet together and obtained our novice class
amateur radio licenses together (WN6PAP, later W6PAP, for me
and WN6TUY, later W6TUY, for Les). We also learned to fly
at Beckwourth, Les in Frank Nervino's Aeronca 7AC and I in
the family Piper J3 Cub. I began with Dad, but Frank did most
of the instructing of both Les and me, and soloed me on November
5th, 1958, my 16th birthday.

The J3 was a Piper J3C-65 Cub, a member of Piper's long lived
Cub family, The J3 was built from 1937 until 1946 and served,
as the L4 Grasshopper, in both the Army and Navy Air Corps
during World War II. Our J3 had been equipped with an 85
horsepower Continental C-85 engine in place of the stock 65
horsepower Continental A-65.

In addition, the airplane was equipped with a climbing
propeller which reduced takeoff distances and enhanced the
rate of climb but which also reduced the cruising speed somewhat.
The airplane stalled at gross weight at 38 MPH and cruised at
about 65 MPH. Empty weight was 688 pounds and gross weight
was 1220 pounds. There was no electrical system and therefore
no lights, radios, or electrical instrumentation. There was
also no starter so the engine had to be started by pulling the
propeller by hand.

The J3 was equipped with a folding "winter enclosure" on the
right side of the fuselage which could be left open in flight,
making the airplane an excellent vehicle for photography,
search and rescue, pipeline patrol and other uses that required
excellent ground visibility.

Les and I both passed our Private Pilot written and practical
tests in early 1960. I took my test on March 14, 1960 from Mary
Barr, an FAA designated examiner who flew from Susanville to
Beckwourth to administer my exam.. She flew home leaving me with
a new, temporary, FAA Private Pilot certificate which is still
in my flight bag today. My permanent certificate arrived a few
weeks later, dated 3-14-60. It expired on 2-28-10, replaced by
the new FAA plastic certificate I was issued to replace it. That
cardstock license lasted just short of 50 years.

Les' uncle Ray Rushing lived in Mitchell, South Dakota. Les had
visited his uncle previously and had become interested in Gloria
Zielenski, a girl who lived next door to his uncle.

During our senior year, Gloria visited Loyalton with Ray Rushing
and met Les' friends. It was colder than usual that winter and
we took Gloria out on the ice in Sierra Valley. She was a good
skater and none of us were, not usually having ice of sufficient
strength to trust. That year, some of our friends drove their
cars out onto the ice.

Gloria's younger brother, Pat, had visited Loyalton a year or so
before that and had experienced an overnight hike to, and campout
on, a peak south of Loyalton with Les and a few of his friends,
including me.

Les suggested, in late 1959 or early 1960, that we fly my J3 to
South Dakota after our high school graduation, stay with his
uncle, and double date Gloria and her sister, Gay. We discussed
the route we had in mind with Frank Nervino and he approved our
plan except to suggest that we stay south of Salt Lake in Utah
rather than north of the Lake to keep us out of an exceptionally
windy area near one of our planned refueling points, Lucin, Utah.

We spent hours researching fuel availability, selecting airports,
and plotting courses. We ended up with a plan that included two
overnight stops and thirteen fuel stops, necessary for a plane
with twelve gallons of fuel capacity. Having no radio, we chose
only uncontrolled airports so that there would be no control tower
where communications would be required.

During the trip, we filed flight plans and carefully checked the
weather whenever possible. With no radio, this required access
to telephones. There were coin telephones at most of the airports
along the route.

Aware of our plans, a friend of ours, Bill Sims, wrote a rather
crazy letter to Gay purporting to be me. She responded to me and
I was a bit puzzled when she answered questions I had never asked
and sent me a picture of her dog. We wrote back and forth two
or three more times prior to the trip.

We graduated on June 17th, 1960. Les and I played a trumpet duet
at graduation and we stayed up late talking to friends after the
graduation. Next morning at around 5 AM we were rolling down the
runway at Beckwourth into the sunrise. I remember needing to fly
directly into the sun with no sun visor in that airplane. Dad
took a picture of our takeoff roll and then caught up with us in
his Aeronca 15AC Sedan to take some aerial photos of us as we
crossed Beckwourth Pass into Long Valley. We landed at Lovelock,
Nevada one hour and twenty minutes after takeoff and found that
there was no fuel at the airport but that we could refuel at a
small strip behind the hardware store in town. We flew to that
strip, refueled, and flew on toward Battle Mountain. We refueled
at Battle Mountain after one hour and ten minutes in the air from
Lovelock and flew on to Elko for fifty minutes, where we refueled
again and flew another fifty minutes to Wells.

At that time, there was no civilian fuel stop between Wells and
Salt Lake City and the distance was too far for the twelve gallon
tank in the J3. Behind a hangar at Wells was a pile of old five
gallon cans. We chose a can from the pile and filled it when we
refueled the J3. we stored the can on the floorboards under the
fuel tank ahead of the front seat and flew an hour and twenty five
minutes to Low Army Air Force Base, an abandoned facility out on
the salt flats. The runway was littered with debris, including
boards apparently taken from the abandoned and derelict barracks
and other buildings. We landed on a relatively clear section of
runway and poured in the five gallons. The 85 HP Continental in
that particular J3 was hard starting when hot and we wore ourselves
out taking turns attempting to start the engine by pulling the
prop through. We finally got started and flew another fifty five
minutes to Utah Central Airport at the south edge of Salt Lake City
along US Highway 50. Although we had bedrolls with us, we rented
a motel room adjacent to the airport after we had refueled the J3.
We left the five gallon can in a pile of such cans behind a hangar
in Salt Lake City for use by some traveler heading west toward
Wells.

The next morning, June 19th, we took off and carefully stayed
south of the controlled airspace associated with Salt Lake City
Municipal. Our takeoff from Utah Central Airport was at about
4200 feet of elevation and we circled several times to get up to
9500 feet to cross the Wasatch Range immediately east of Salt Lake
City. We flew 35 minutes to Uinta County Airport at Evanston,
Wyoming, a field with an elevation of over 7000 feet. As at
Lovelock, we found that we had to refuel at a different field, so
we flew ten minutes to a private field at Evanston and refueled.
We flew one hour to Rock Springs where we refueled and I bought
a WWII Army Air Corps E-6B computer from the fixed base operator's
glass display counter. I still have the E-6B in my flight bag.
We flew another one hour and five minutes to Rawlins.

We refueled at Rawlins. There was an FAA station at Rawlins and
we were given a report of "winds light and variable" at Wheatland.
As we flew toward Wheatland across the Laramie Range, we could
see from our checkpoints that our groundspeed was over 100 miles
per hour while our airspeed was still about 65 MPH. This concerned
us a lot and when we reached Wheatland we found that the air mass
was moving over the ground faster than a J3 could fly so we had
no way to avoid passing on beyond Wheatland. There was some pretty
severe turbulence off and on and we worked with the chart to try
to figure out where we were headed while trying to maintain reasonably
level flight. Finally the wind died down considerably, We knew
we were in Wyoming, Nebraska, or South Dakota, but that was about
all. We landed at Stafford's Ranch which turned out to be near
Chugwater, Wyoming, not far south of Wheatland. We were in the air
one hour and thirty minutes from Rawlins to Stafford's. We flew
thirty minutes from Stafford's north to Wheatland and walked into
town to get a motel room. The older lady (mid-20s, I think) tending
the airport teased us a bit about two young boys being out on their
own. While walking into town, we could see considerable damage
that had been caused by the freak windstorm.

The next morning, June 20th, we flew one hour and thirty minutes
from Wheatland to Chadron, Nebraska, where we refueled. After
Chadron, I don't have flight times, as Les flew as pilot in command
on into Mitchell and the times would be in his logbook. Leaving
Chadron, we crossed into South Dakota and flew seventy-four miles to
Martin. Finding no fuel at Martin, although the chart showed it as
having fuel, we flew eighteen miles south to Merriman, Nebraska. As
was often the case at small airports in those days, Merriman had a
courtesy car for use by visiting pilots. It was a rusty, brakeless,
mid-'30s car with instructions to drive to the sheriff's office. We
did that, gearing the car down to stop it when necessary. We picked
up a deputy sheriff who unlocked the fuel pump. let us refuel, and
took our money. We returned the deputy to his office, left the
courtesy car at Merriman, and flew into South Dakota for the second
time that day, landing at Winner, about ninety nine miles from Merriman.
We refueled at Winner and flew ninety three miles from Winner to Mitchell.
We shared the traffic pattern at Mitchell with a North Central Airlines
DC-3. After landing, we tied down and waited for the Rushings to drive
out and pick us up.

After we had crossed the Missouri River between Winner and Mitchell, the
terrain flattened out completely and the countryside everywhere looked
a lot alike with section line roads forming one mile grids. We had to
pay more attention to navigation without the usual terrain features we
were used to using farther to the west.

We met with the Zielenskis that night and I met Gay for the first time.
I need to get her involved in writing up the details of our first meeting
and the rest of the time I spent with her and her family in Mitchell.

We were in Mitchell until July 6th. During that time, Les and I made
a trip to Texas with Ray Rushing in his Piper Comanche 250. The
intent was to fly to Waco, but we were socked in at Sherman, Texas due
to intense weather. Trying to reach Waco, we saw five funnel clouds
and decided to give that up. While at Sherman for a few days, I met
some of Les' relatives as he was born in Leonard, Texas, not far from
Sherman.

During our stay in Mitchell, I took Gay and Pat Zielenski and Gene
Rushing for rides in the J3. Gay's mother, Lois Zielenski, refused a
ride after Les rocked a wingtip up and down while Lois was sitting in
the J3 with her eyes closed.

While in Mitchell, I flew the Comanche for a half hour, my first time
logged in a nosewheel airplane.

We flew back from Mitchell to Beckwourth along the same route from
July 6th to July 8th, staying overnight again in motels in Wheatland
and Salt Lake City. We stopped only at the airports that we knew would
have fuel.

When we were doing the engine runup at Winner, South Dakota, after
refueling, we found that we couldn't shut off the carb heat. A
mechanic based on the field found that the choke cable to the carb heat
knob was loose at the carburetor and fixed it. While in Wheatland
overnight, we saw a movie titled "The Mouse That Roared" at the local
theater.

The rest of the trip home was relatively uneventful. We used the
same, or a similar five gallon can to get back across the salt flats
from Utah Central Airport to Wells, Nevada. Since that was the first
leg of the third day and it was cooler out on the salt flats, we had no
trouble restarting the engine.