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2009 Bartlesville Biplane Expo.
I remember being in the backyard when I was a kid and watching the colorful biplanes start to migrate to Bartlesville. First there would be just one or two, then it would be like the sky had undergone some sort of time shift and modern aviation had not yet been invented. That meant that it was time for the annual Biplane Expo.
Red biplane.
So when I happened to be in Bartlesville for the final Biplane Expo, we picked a cool, but sunny morning to go out to the little airport and see the planes land and take off on the grass runway.
Biplane fueling.
I guess that most of the pilots are getting older and that is why 2009 was the final year for the Expo. But they couldn’t have picked a more perfect weekend to go out on. Every few minutes a plane would take off into the nearly cloudless sky and the announcer would identify it to the crowd of wandering pilots, aficionados, and visitors like me.
Blue and yellow biplanes.
I imagine it would be amazing to fly in a biplane and have nothing above your head except air, to look all around you with no glass between you and the earth. Then again, I might get vertigo. Because of this, I probably shouldn’t be the pilot.
Biplane flying.
A pilot there had one of the best names I’ve ever heard: Joe Champagne. And he was flying a biplane apparently owned by Roy Clark. But there were more than just biplanes, and there were a few experimental and small planes there as well.
Biplane landing.
Most of the planes were from out of state, and it’s pretty cool that biplanes were flown from opposite coasts and corners of the country. Despite their age, they seemed to be in impeccable condition, probably better than most commercial planes.
Biplane taxiing.
In addition to the biplanes, there were also some classic cars being shown off that were in town for Sunfest that was taking place in the park. We went by the festival later for some fried green tomatoes (a guilty, once-every-few-years pleasure).
Biplane flying in to the Expo.
I have a few more Biplane Expo photos on my flickr if you want to check it out. I got a little carried away with my photography, but there were just so many colors against the sky that I couldn’t resist.
Crimson flowers at the University of Oklahoma.
My first days back in the States were spent in Norman with my brother, mostly readjusting to the time zone. I kept thinking that it felt like I hadn’t left. The weather was mild, about how it was when I left for France in September, and Norman looked the same. I kept seeing people that were in Norman when I was a student at OU. But I knew I’d been gone for months; I have the photos and blog entries to prove it. Even now, I feel like France was a dream.
Roadside Rooster.
At the end of the week, I drove down to Dallas for my friend Amanda’s wedding. On the way, I stopped at the Fried Pie Shoppe and saw the above rooster. I’d seen the fried pie sign many times, but had never stopped. Although guilt-inducing, the apricot pie I got was delicious.
The wedding was fun, and I stayed with my friend Elizabeth (who I’ll soon be living near in New York!). We also saw a firework show and symphony concert for Memorial Day.
Trash-eating buffalo.
After about a week in Dallas, I drove back to Norman, spent the night, and then drove to my hometown: Bartlesville. It was nice to finally not be sleeping on a couch or in a guest bedroom. And to finally unpack some clothes from boxes and wear something that I didn’t bring back from France. During my stay in Bartlesville, I visited Woolaroc with my mom (where you can feed trash to the taxidermy buffalo above).
Goat on a fence at Woolaroc.
Woolaroc was oilman Frank Phillip’s ranch, and now it’s an animal preserve with an American Indian art museum. I went there almost every week when I was a kid, so it was fun to go down memory lane. And also see the animals, like the above goat, who was jealous of the attention I was give to a baby Highland Cattle.
That’s a quick overview of quite a few days. But I must catch up before August 15. Because that’s the day I fly to New York!
Rubik's Cube on the Place des Vosges in Paris.
So it finally happened, the sad day of May 15 went I took the train to Paris from Valence for the last time. The final two days in Valence went by so quickly and were such a blur of packing that I find it hard to remember them. But I remember saying goodbye to the friends who were still there and having a drive around Valence at night with one of them so that I could see the lights of the city one more time. When I first got to Valence, I couldn’t imagine that I would miss it. It seemed small, sequestered, and unremarkable. But then I made friends, discovered the amazing Saturday market, started traveling around Provence, and it grew on me. Still, I know it wouldn’t be the same once all the assistants had left.
Jim Morrison street art in Paris.
My “responsable” picked me up at the foyer and took me to the TGV station, where I loaded my giant suitcase, backpack, laptop back, and snowboard boots on the train. Luckily, a kind French gentleman lifted my huge suitcase into the only available luggage slot, or else I might have dislocated my arms. Then we sped off to Paris and next I got off at Charles de Gaulle Airport. Here’s where a snag showed up in my plans. I had written down only that I was staying at the Ibis Hotel, not realizing there were THREE in the airport, all with the same name. The information desk was completely unhelpful and there was no internet to check my reservation, so I just guessed on the one closest to the RER station and was miraculously correct. I left all my luggage in my very own hotel room (this is novel for me) and then took the RER into the city where I was going to meet up with my friend Lauren, who had been traveling with her mom and happened to also be in Paris.
Boats on the Seine.
While waiting, I took shelter from the rain in a cafe overlooking the Seine with a view of the Eiffel Tower and ordered a cafe creme. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t go near such an expensive place, but this was my last day in Paris! Well, last is relative, I always seem to claw my way back. Anyway, once Lauren showed up we wandered through the Marais and decided to go to the always delicious l’As du Falafel. After, there was more exploring and we meandered over to Bastille and had an ongoing competition of spotting Space Invaders. Oh, Paris, I miss you.
Q-Bert Invader.
Eventually we had another coffee at a brasserie near Les Invalides so that we could use the wifi to find Lauren a hostel. Once that was all arranged, we saw the William Blake exhibit at the Petit Palais. I had no idea Blake did art, only knowing his poetry. Embarrassingly, the first thing that came to mind was “Dead Man,” but I would be validated at the end of the exhibit where they were playing clips from the movie. Anyway, it was an excellent exhibit and I was impressed with the work, although I think he was a better writer than artist.
Pont Neuf.
That night, we had crepes with a bottle of cidre and then walked along the river. I was reluctant to leave watching the lights from the boats stream across the water under the stone bridges, but I didn’t want to take the RER too late at night and had to think about my flight in the morning. So we said goodbye in a metro station and I went back to the hotel. The next day I flew from Paris, to London, to Chicago, to Oklahoma City, where my brother picked me up from the airport.
