While the Champ and the Chief share many of the same parts, their flight—and ground—characteristics are surprisingly different.
That had been mentioned by many people over the years, but as is often the case, something must be experienced to be truly understood.
When “Eventually” Arrives
Schedules and weather finally aligned for our Aeronca friend to take me up in his Chief. The flight had been mentioned often in conversation—“Eventually it’ll happen”—and the day finally arrived.
The restorer and I had been working on projects in our hangar while the welder continued making progress on Mama’s Chief. He’d asked us to order more stock for the lower cowling and the structure below the cabin doors. It’s good to feel the restoration momentum building.
After pulling the Chief out of the Aeronca Haven, our friend hopped into the left seat while I buckled into the right. Like the Cub and Champ, the Chief is started by hand-propping. The restorer pulled the prop through five or so times until our friend confirmed it was ready. With the magnetos switched to “both,” the familiar call echoed:
“Brakes and contact,” said the restorer.
“Brakes and contact,” came the reply—and the propeller spun to life.
A New Perspective
Being able to talk easily with the person next to me—compared to the back-and-forth shouting of tandem seating—was a small luxury. I was told afterward that Mama’s Chief will be substantially quieter, too. Even without headsets, we could talk just fine as-is.
Our airport friends were there to see us off, and I had tears in my eyes during climbout. The camaraderie and growing familiarity of this airport family is exactly what my dad hoped we’d find after Mom died.
As we flew, I wondered what Mama might have felt like flying her Chief—if she ever did. Her logbook shows no Chief time. Perhaps she was aloft but never documented it.
In the Air, and in My Thoughts
At altitude, I did a few turns. The sight picture is different in each direction—left vs. right.
I’ll get it eventually, but the nose needs to sit at a different point on the horizon depending on the direction of the turn.
In both Sis (our Bonanza) and the Cub, I’ve come to recognize the bump of air that comes when a turn is flown just right.
That reassuring nudge that tells you: you nailed it. It’ll happen in the Chief too. With time.
I’ll need a booster seat for takeoffs and landings—visibility over the cowling is less than desirable. Like the Cub and Champ, s-turns are necessary to see during taxi.
After we landed, I remembered my first Champ flight years ago—I practiced Dutch rolls to get a feel for how she flew. I’ll do the same in the Chief next time.
Threads of Legacy
I don’t remember Mama ever talking about her airplane when I was little. But her brother—my uncle—proudly told me time and again how she brought her Chief home in laundry baskets, wings and all. Her passion for aviation was clear.
While my dad’s influence in my aviation journey is undeniable—growing up, I was always with him at the airport—it’s Mama who inspired my love for adventure and possibilities.
She made me believe that bringing an airplane back to life was possible. Doable. Worth it.
Familiar Fields and Firsts
Climbing out from our home airport, tears welled up as I imagined Mama there with me. I wondered if she had ever seen this view.
Western Ohio is a far cry from suburban Chicago.
A lot more farmland than homes.
At one point, our Aeronca friend pointed out the Columbus skyline, 50 miles away. It reminded me of looking out from the western suburbs toward downtown Chicago.
As we flew over familiar roads and landmarks, my mental map was filling in—this area is feeling more like home with each flight. By the time we returned, it was not a point on a sectional but more like a dear friend.
A Moment Worth Waiting For
As we rolled out and taxied back to our friend’s hangar, I spotted the restorer, another airport friend, and our other Aeronca friend watching us return.
Apologies were made for how long it had taken to get me up in the Chief—but in truth, it happened exactly when it should have.
Had we flown earlier, I might have missed the quiet beauty of all the little details.
There will be more posts to come—focused on the technical and tangible aspects of the journey.
But for today, it’s the heart and soul of this flight that lingers.