Sun ‘n Fun Camping Preflight

Most of my friends and family think I go a little bit crazy every April. I spend months talking about—and planning for—the ultimate spring break for pilots: the annual Sun ’n Fun fly-in in Lakeland, Florida.

Starting right after Christmas, I ask every pilot I run into if they’re going to Sun ’n Fun. I train for the five-mile-a-day SNF regimen by walking every morning in my neighborhood. I even dream about how much fun I’ll have and how many new and interesting people I’ll meet at the show.

I first came to the show in 1984 and have only missed two events since then. One of those times, it was canceled for COVID.

In 1985, I camped at the show with two of my sons, ages 5 and 6. Thereafter, I would take the boys one at a time, leading to a more personalized and meaningful experience with each child. When I acquired a 1968 Skyhawk in 1995, we would fly to the show and camp under the wing—many times with my best friend Jim Anderson and his son John, in their retractable Cessna Cutlass. The boys got big enough to wander the grounds by themselves while Jim and I would go to forums and workshops. Now the boys are grown with families of their own, but we can’t forget the great memories we all had together.

I sold the Skyhawk two years ago, so this year I’ll cruise into the campground in my trusty Honda Ridgeline. I’ll be tent camping again. I hope to link up with the usual suspects from EAA 690 in Georgia to form our tent compound. The show starts next Tuesday. Bill Bell and I will drive into the campground early Saturday morning to grab a suitable spot.

After years of camping at Sun ’n Fun, I’ve refined my battle plan to the very basics. I have a “four-man” tent, a cot, an air mattress and a cooler. That, a ball cap, two pairs of shorts and about a dozen T-shirts will be all I need. My only cooking gear will be an American Express card.

Of course, any good camper should preflight his gear before a big adventure. This afternoon, I overturned my duffel bag to empty out my tent, sleeping bag and air mattress. The annual ritual of setting up the tent in the front yard kills two birds with one stone. First, I make sure everything is still there and reasonably clean. Second, erecting the tent serves as a cognitive test to make sure that a gentleman as seasoned as myself still has the mental acuity necessary for campground survival. Luckily, I passed—one more year avoiding the nursing home.

If you can’t make the show this year, you’re cordially invited to ride along with me. I and my other KITPLANES compadres will chronicle the planes, the people and the happenings for you. If there’s something special you want us to document, just sing out (comment on our articles) and we’ll try our best to be your boots on the ground.

Buckle up—it’s going to be a great ride this year.