Day 26 -- All Day in the Henry Ford Museum -- 46 Miles to and from camp

I was halfway to the museum entrance with Concetta Sunday morning, when I realized I'd left the camera photo chip in the laptop. I had to walk back to retrieve it. On my way back, this guy happened to stop near me, so I asked him if I could ride in his Essex to the front door. His name was Scott, and he graciously said, "Sure!" Great guy and a wonderful car. He told me it had 65 horsepower, which is 15 more than our Model A Ford. I think he said the car was a 1924 and was produced by the Hudson Motorcar Company.

When Concetta and I were nearing the end of our day at the Henry Ford Museum, I told her I wanted to go to the Diner that we had passed a couple of times that day and have some ice cream and coffee. Concetta didn't really want any, but said, "Let's do it, we're on vacation." The idea turned out to be a winner, as the ice cream from the Guernsey Farms Dairy of Northville, Michigan, produces some of the finest ice cream we've ever had. We sat there in the Diner's outdoor patio and rested after nearly five hours of walking. Reflecting back, it had been a wonderfully thrilling and eventful weekend.

This is Henry Ford's original "Quadricycle," one of America's first cars. Here's what Wikipedia says about Henry's car: "The Ford Quadricycle was the first vehicle developed by Henry Ford. Ford's first car was a simple frame with a gas-powered engine and four bicycle wheels mounted on it. On June 4, 1896, in a tiny workshop behind his home on 58 Bagley Avenue, Detroit, where the Michigan Building now stands, Ford put the finishing touches on his pure ethanol-powered motor. After more than two years of experimentation, Ford, at the age of 32, had completed his first experimental automobile. He dubbed his creation the "Quadricycle," because it ran on four bicycle tires, and because of the means through which the engine drove the back wheels. The success of the little vehicle led to the founding of the Henry Ford Company and then later the Ford Motor Company in 1903."

One interesting fact that I remember reading about in my one of my books on Ford was that Henry was doing his assembly of the car in a brick shed behind his home. When it came to time move the car outside, it wouldn't fit through the only door. Henry had to enlarge the door opening to be able to get his invention outside so he could drive it.

This was one of my favorite exhibits in the whole museum. Here you see two young women assembling a Model T Ford from the ground up. At this point in the build, one woman is under the car with a slender steel rod, inserting it through a hole in the frame so she could line up the mounting holes for the frame and body. Evidently once the car is assembled, they then disassemble the car in the same order in which they assembled it. I asked them what the record was for assembling the T, and they said they thought that one of the other teams had done it in 26 minutes. I was impressed with this display, not just because someone had suggested it as a great addition to the museum, but because they had women as well as men involved. In our society, a reverence for mechanical ability has been largely forgotten. Here at the Henry Ford Museum, that ability sat in the front row. Kudos to everyone involved!

Everyone probably recognizes the Wright Flyer. This plane is not the original as the original went to England, and later came back to the Smithsonian as an incomplete plane. Nevertheless, the flyer is such an astounding piece of work that even a replica is humbling to view and think about. The Wright Flyer was the first successful heavier-than-air powered aircraft. Designed and built by the Wright brothers, it flew four times on December 17, 1903, near Kill Devil Hills, about four miles south of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.

From the web I learned that: "The Flyer I had a wooden frame in which the straight parts were spruce and the curved parts ash. The frame was covered with a finely-woven cotton cloth and was sealed with "canvas paint" similar to what sailors in Kitty Hawk used on their sails, probably paraffin dissolved in kerosene. The metal fittings were made from mild steel and the aircraft was rigged with15-gauge bicycle spoke wire. The engine block was cast from a hard aluminum alloy, 92% aluminum and 8% copper. The other parts of the engine were made from steel or cast iron, with the exception of the spark points which contained tiny bits of platinum."

"This was the only aircraft the Wrights tried to preserve. Damaged by wind after 4th flight, they returned it to Dayton; Orville restored it in 1916 and sent it to the Kensington Science Museum in London, England in 1928. It was returned to the United States in 1948 and since 1949 the Smithsonian has displayed it as the world's first piloted powered airplane."

You can't help but put yourself in the place of Wilbur or Orville, prone on that wing, knowing full well that actually getting the plane airborne could ultimately result in one of their deaths that day. The brothers were two of the emerging mechanical geniuses of their day, and it certainly humbles me to think about how far we've come since that miraculous day in 1903 when the two brothers proved once and for all that man would fly. Thrilling!

This airplane hanging the ceiling in the Henry Ford Museum is a DC3. Here's Wikipedia's blurb on DC3's history: "the Douglas DC-3 is a fixed-wing propeller-driven airliner that revolutionized air transport in the 1930s and 1940s. Its lasting effect on the airline industry and World War II makes it one of the most significant transport aircraft ever produced.

It has a cruise speed of 207 mph; capacity of 21 to 32 passengers or 6,000 lbs (2,700 kg) of cargo; and a range of 1,500 mi. The DC-3 is a twin-engine metal monoplane with a tailwheel-type landing gear and was developed as a larger, improved 14-bed sleeper version of the Douglas DC-2. It had many exceptional qualities compared to previous aircraft. It was fast, had good range, and could operate from short runways. It was reliable and easy to maintain and carried passengers in greater comfort. Before the war it pioneered many air travel routes. It could cross the continental United States and made worldwide flights possible. It is considered the first airliner that could profitably carry just passengers.

Civil DC-3 production ended in 1942 at 607 aircraft. Military versions, including the C-47 Skytrain (designated the Dakota in British Royal Air Force (RAF) service), and Russian- and Japanese-built versions, brought total production to over 16,000. Following the war, the airliner market was flooded with surplus C-47s and other ex-military transport aircraft, and Douglas' attempts to produce an upgraded DC-3 failed due to cost.

Post-war, the DC-3 was made obsolete on main routes by more advanced types such as the Douglas DC-6 and Lockheed Constellation, but the design proved exceptionally adaptable and useful. Large numbers continue to see service in a wide variety of niche roles well into the 21st century. In 2013 it was estimated that approximately 2,000 DC-3s and military derivatives were still flying, a testament to the durability of the design

During my three years in the Naval Air Corp I only flew on the military equivalent of the DC3. It was during my enlistment period that Native Americans began "occupying" closed military bases. They had taken over Alcatraz Island in San Francisco Bay at one point, and the Navy was afraid that they would try to occupy the closed Naval Air Station in Minneapolis/Saint Paul in Minnesota. I was based in Chicago, Illinois, and the Navy decided that sailors from our base would be flown to the NAS Twin Cities to guard against any such takeover. That's when I got to ride on one of these twin-engine, cargo carrying, planes.

If I remember correctly, the Navy was in such a sweat to get us up there that they loaded us into the plane at night and flew us out. There were no seats in the plane, so we got to sit on paratrooper benches on either side of the fuselage. Thinking back, I remember that plane ride as the most bumping bit of air travel I'd ever experienced. It was as if we were rolling to Twin Cities on square tires. I not sure if it was air turbulence or rough engines or what, but we were all extremely glad to touch down and get off that plane.

That was true until we learned that we would be standing guard around the perimeter of the base while a cold, incessant northern rain fell upon us. I don't remember how many days and nights we stayed, I don't think it was very long, but I sure remember that plane ride to this day.

I posted this photo because it hearkens back to my childhood. As you can see, pictured is the very first of Bob's restaurants that eventually blossomed into a restaurant empire known as the "Bob's Big Boy." When the Davis family went out for a burger in the 1950s, Bob's is traditionally where we went.

So when I became a teenager and wanted to take the '57 Chevy out with the guys and have a burger, Bob's was where I went. My opinion was then, and I suspect it still holds true, the Bob's three-bun, two pattie work of art was the greatest. Combine it with their outstanding fries, and you have a kid's dream come true. But wait, there's more. The final item I needed in order to make my meal complete was Bob's silver-goblet, triple-think shake with a dollop whipped cream and a juicy cherry on top. Back then, I'm sure that I was firmly convinced that God himself could not have come up with a more enticing thing to do with ice cream. I always, ALWAYS ordered the strawberry, and if I remember correctly brother Cliff always had the chocolate. Who knows what our parents had as I was lost in paradise from the moment I entered the restaurant.