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Editor’s note: We’re pleased to present the winning entry in the sixth annual Richard Collins Writing Prize for Young Pilots. After reading nearly 100 entries, our distinguished panel of judges selected Clay Simmons, a 22-year old pilot and aircraft builder based in Knoxville, TN, as the winner of the $5,000 first place award. We hope you’ll agree that Clay’s emotional journey to his most memorable flight is a fine tribute to Richard Collins, a great writer and pilot.
Blister Flight: Six Pilots and an Angel
By: Clay Simmons
“Johnson Creek Traffic, Carbon Cub Six-Charlie-Charlie, Short Final.” At first glance, this may seem like a mundane radio call. In fact, it wasn’t even a complete radio call. What you don’t hear is that a decade-long promise was being completed, a moment being shared with an angel amongst loved ones, and a triumph over one of the greatest hardships I’ve ever endured was being finalized. This is the story of my most memorable flight.
The irony of my most memorable flight is it was a decade in the making, and was undoubtedly one of my most normal flights. Thus, I’d like to explain why such an uneventful flight could be so significant. A large amount of my childhood was spent in the back seat of a PA-18, bumping around the skies with my dad. More often than not, these adventures would end in the Idaho backcountry. It took me until I was about 12 years old to recognize how incredible the experiences were, and even longer than that to gain a true appreciation for what aviation is.
A large amount of my childhood was spent in the back seat of a PA-18, bumping around the skies with my dad.
For nearly a decade, I would spend Father’s Day at The Johnson Creek Airstrip (3U2) with my dad. It is a 3,500 foot grass strip nestled in the Frank Church—River of No Return Wilderness Area of Idaho. I had the pleasure of being the unofficial ATC for the field, as well as a self-proclaimed mayor, having my handheld radio in my right hand, a lemonade in my left, while sitting on the wooden bench at midfield. Because of my age, and a general displeasure towards being banged around in the afternoon bumps and brutal heat, I would stay at the field and offer whatever services I could provide. This included, but was not limited to, consuming others’ food, sitting in others’ airplanes, and even dog sitting.
For nearly a decade, I would spend Father’s Day at The Johnson Creek Airstrip (3U2) with my dad. That’s me on the left with my dad (center) and his brother, Andrew.
There was a gentleman named Jim Richmond who would bring his dog along to the fly-ins. I would gladly play fetch with the dog for the day while my dad and Jim, and a few others, went flying. In exchange for watching Tilly the Aussie, Jim would allow me to pepper him with questions about airplanes and life. Jim founded a company called CubCrafters, and they build high performance taildraggers for backcountry use. To say he was a wealth of knowledge would be selling him short.
Maybe I was too curious, or too ambitious, but I eventually asked Jim an important question. It is nearly ritual at Johnson Creek to build a fire in the evening to hash out the day, tell the same stories, and share the centuries of combined knowledge. I waited for my turn to strike, and I finally cornered Jim while he was making his mountain home camping meal. I proposed a question that will provide inspiration for the rest of my life: “What is the youngest someone has built an airplane?”
He pondered for a moment, thinking of every builder he had ever met, and rebutted, “I don’t know exactly, thirty-something.”
My ambitiousness came back to bite me and I spouted, “Well I’m going to be the youngest to do it.”
Unfortunately Jim is no longer with us, as he passed away in 2021, but the promise remained true.
The backcountry has not always been filled with joy for me. In 2018, my dad was in a crash that nearly took his life at Dewey Moore, a small grass strip not too far from Johnson Creek. He was in the Super Cub that I grew up in, but I was on the other side of the country. I was supposed to be in the airplane that day, but call it divine intervention, I was not. It was a tremendous story about the realities of backcountry flying, one that no one wants to experience. When my dad crashed, three men saved his life—his younger brother, Jim Richmond, and a new friend, Jeff Smith. They allowed me to see my dad again, and protected me from hating aviation for taking something from me. Luckily, after years of surgeries, rehab and training, my dad is flying again. That experience has defined who I am as an aviator.
When someone asks you if you want to build an airplane, you immediately respond yes, as the rest can be figured out later. This simple question, posed by an unlikely friend, was the spark that ignited two years of working towards the goal of a flying airplane. Jeff Smith, the same gentleman who saved my dad’s life not three years before, was now asking me to help build the same kind of airplane that my dad was flying when he crashed. Remind me the definition of insanity again?
Jeff Smith and I spent hours on the build filled with laughter, blood, sweat, and even a tear or two of joy, will never be forgotten.
We spent many hours in his workshop just down the road from my house. These hours filled with laughter, blood, sweat, and even a tear or two of joy, will never be forgotten. We enjoyed the highs of seeing things take shape, but maybe the highs were just the chemicals we were breathing. In just over two years, our new Carbon Cub took flight. This moment of being such a young builder, now tasked with so much responsibility in getting the airplane up and back down, was thrilling and daunting all in one go. The flight went off without a hitch.
I had checked the box of being a builder (with a LOT of help from Jeff), and was now flying my very own Cub. However, this first flight in the Cub, albeit a close second, was not my most memorable flight. It will be hard to ever fully express my gratitude, but I’d like to think Jeff knows how grateful I am for the entire experience. I certainly didn’t think I could learn so much from one person, but I do think I was able to teach him a thing or two as well.
Blister Flight was formed in September 2023. This flight included five airplanes, six pilots, and the adventure of a lifetime. Blister, the call sign given to my uncle, because he notoriously shows up after the work is done, was dubbed the name of the group. We trekked from around the country to gather for a week of flying in the backcountry. At a beautiful ranch nestled in the wilderness, we shared laughs and learning, and had a fantastic week. I got to spend time learning about my airplane in a much more intimate manner. I learned what she could give me in hostile environments, and how incredible the experience of flying in the backcountry truly is.
Blister flight included five airplanes, six pilots, and the adventure of a lifetime.
On the third day, an opportunity arose. After a fuel stop in McCall, we agreed to head towards 3U2, the airstrip better known as Johnson Creek. The exact same Johnson Creek where I had promised Jim I would be the youngest builder. The exact same Johnson Creek where I realized I loved aviation. The exact same Johnson Creek that made me and my dad fall in love with the backcountry. This was the flight that connected every dot. I took off from McCall alongside my dad, me in my airplane, him in his, in a tight formation. My uncle and a friend in their Carbon Cubs preceded us, and a fifth cub in trail.
We linked up in our chain, pointing out scenery on the radio, getting a few licks in at each other, and enjoying the ride. About halfway through the flight, what I was about to do dawned on me. This was the flight where so many seemingly disconnected events in my life would all come together. A decade of experiences and situations that, at the time, I couldn’t comprehend, were pulling invisible strings to draw me to this moment. The lifetime of hearing avgas firing through cylinders, seeing the world fall away as you climb, and feeling the visceral emotions of being in the sky, had all happened to pull me to this moment.
I entered the basin from the north to fly a standard pattern. I heard the thre airplanes in front of me land, and I, being the fourth, took my turn. I ripped over the trees as you have to do, and pushed the nose forwards to drop over the edge of the canyon to get down to final.
“Johnson Creek Traffic, Carbon Cub Six-Charlie-Charlie, Short Final.”
I touched the wheels down in the soft green grass, and all I could think about was Jim Richmond looking down on me. Smiling with his soft grin, as I, the youngest Carbon Cub builder, had just landed back at the same airstrip where I developed my love for aviation. And the same place my promise was made. I had fulfilled a decade-long promise, found resilience from one of the most taxing experiences of my life, and completed something so surreal with loved ones around me, sharing that moment in their own way. On that day in Idaho, there was a flight of five airplanes, six pilots, and one angel.
The crew of Blister Flight at Johnson Creek.
- Blister Flight – Six Pilots and an Angel - April 1, 2024
Great story. Next time you’re up stop in at 2A1 and check out my PA 22.
Thank you! I’ll have to swing by. We’re out there about once a year, appreciate the kind words!
As an old low time pilot with a dead medical, your story brought back a flood of memories. Back in September of 2016 I got a call out of the blue from a former co-worker and friend to join him and some of his friends camping at Johnson Creek. It was like you described with the camaraderie and campfire stories and exploring the creek and old mine nearby. Part of the adventure was loading up in the courtesy wagon for the short bumpy trek into the tiny berg called Yellow Pine for a world famous (at least for adventurous pilots) burger. Enjoy the link below to some of the photos I shot on that adventure camping under the wing and getting reeled in by the many campfire stories. Thanks for sharing.
https://brewsphoto.com/p891240360
I appreciate you taking the time to share your story at 3U2. It really is such a special place to so many people, I am just lucky that I get to be one of them.
Clay,
It truly is a magical spot most people never get to experience. Let your Cub continue to carry you safely on adventures like this and keep writing. You have the gift so nurture it so us old-timers can relive our buried memories.
Mike
Thank you! I will do my best to do so!
Very well-written story and very touching. You got to build your airplane and fly it. Wow, the love and passion you have for aviation goes beyond a pilot’s expectations when learning to fly. Most pilots’ most memorable moment is their first solo flight. Congratulations Clay, I wish you all the best, and keep up the safe flying! Thanks for sharing your experience!
Thank you for the kind words. The passion certainly runs deep, I am just incredibly fortunate I discovered it at such a young age and now have decades to reap the benefits aviation offers. I appreciate the kind words so very much!
This may be a tale of the past, but it’s your future that just might be the best story yet – can’t wait to see what happens next!
This is an incredible comment, thank you! I can’t wait either!
Clay,
What a well-written article: style, imagination, passion (!), great story! Congratulations! Keep on writing; you have a (another) gift.
Thank you very much for the kind words. Maybe I’ll have to share some of my other stories, mayb eI’ll have to go make some. Thanks again!
I’m guessing you’re a good pilot, Clay, but as a guy who has been blessed to make a living as a writer/editor/communicator kinda person, I’ll testify that you’re a very talented writer. Thanks for sharing your story.
Thank you for the words Ernie. This was my first whack at writing something like this. If I knew how to get started in writing I’d give it a try!
Congratulation Clay on winning this prestigious award. You are also a gifted writer. As I read your story I felt as if I was along side of all of you as you described your journey. Best of luck to you in your future flying and business career.
I wrote this before reading the other comments. Oh well, We are all generally say the same thing.
Thank you so much!
Clay,
What a wonderful, well-written story. Thank you for writing it and sharing it with us. Which one is you in the last photo in the article?
Thank you Rick! I am the one in the back with the white backwards hat. From left to right is Garrett Dawson, Michael Goulian, me, my dad Todd Simmons, my uncle Andrew “Blister” Simmons, and co-builder and mentioned friend, Jeff Smith.
Thanks! All lookin’ GREAT!
Thank you for sharing your Johnson Creek story. I have had the privilege of flying my American Legend cub to Johnson Creek on five different occasions. On a sixth camping trip was done in a 182. Loved your pictures. All of them could’ve been taken from my camera, they bring back so many good memories. Thanks again for a great story