The airport is alive with summer activity—projects are progressing, hangar doors are wide open, and the skies are busy when life and weather allow.
Flying season is here.
It’s what we’ve been dreaming of and working toward all winter long—longer daylight hours, warmer temperatures, and a rhythm that feels just right when the prop turns and the wheels leave the ground.
This time of year brings more than just favorable flying conditions. It brings airport picnics, fly-ins, and those timeless conversations shared over potluck tables once the engines have cooled.
The Waco fly-in picnic last month offered just such a moment, though it came with a healthy dose of summer reality: density altitude, heavy humidity, and those pop-up storms that love to make their presence known.
Only a few airplanes made the flight in that day. While we enjoyed lunch, thunder rumbled in the distance.
Some pilots stole glances at their phones, keeping one eye on the radar as storms brewed to the north. A sleek Waco cabin from South Carolina quietly slipped away from the crowd, its pilot sensing the change in the wind.
A friend flying an open-cockpit biplane with the cabin stood beside his airplane, scanning the sky and mapping his course and I pulled up the radar on my phone—yep, showers were starting to blossom.
Another airport wife and I exchanged a knowing look and began clearing food into the hangar kitchen earlier than planned. As quick goodbyes rippled through the group, the remaining aircraft launched toward Wynkoop, and we secured those still on the ground just as the sky opened up.
With the last of the lunch tucked away, rain hammered against the hangar doors in earnest. Inside, the hum of conversation picked up again—talk of projects, plans, and future flights. The weather may pause the flying, but it never stops the dreaming.
By the time the next picnic arrived, weather and schedules were in better alignment. We’d had a few good flights to the restoration shop, and a couple of evening jaunts around the area added a lift to our days. Those short flights, those golden-hour loops around home, are the quiet rewards for all the time spent wrenching, sanding, and dreaming on the ground.
The restorer brought our Cub down to park in front of the Fourth of July picnic, nestled between an award-winning Waco and another classic Cub. Flying on holidays always feels like a gift—the skies open up just long enough to remind us why we keep going.
Under the shade trees, conversations flowed as easily as the breeze. Pilots and friends lounged in lawn chairs, watching the comings and goings, swapping stories and updates. As soon as the lunch plates were cleared and polite departures could be made, the restorer and the Waco’s caretaker quietly excused themselves and rolled the Cabin out of its spot.
Time to play.
It was a gentle reminder that while projects and checklists matter, so does joy. We tinker, restore, and prep our airplanes to share them, to fly them, and to be lifted by them.
Because sometimes the most important part of the plan is simply to enjoy the ride.
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