Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane

Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Childhood Dream Takes Flight

For Richard Bach, flying wasn't just a hobby - it was a lifelong passion. From a young age, he was transfixed by the magic of flight. As a boy growing up in the 1930s, Bach spent countless hours watching planes soar overhead, dreaming of the day he could slip the surly bonds of Earth and take to the skies himself.

By age 13, Bach was taking flying lessons. He soloed on his 16th birthday. But as often happens, adult responsibilities forced Bach to shelve his aviation aspirations. He became an orthodontist, married, started a family. Flying was relegated to weekends and the occasional vacation when he could rent a plane.

Still, Bach never lost his yearning to fly on his own terms. In 1965 at age 38, he decided to scratch that itch. After getting his wife's blessing, Bach combined his childhood passion with adult know-how to begin building his own airplane in the garage. For the next two years, his suburban Chicago neighborhood rang with the whine of power tools and smelled of sawdust as Bach pieced together his aviation dream board by board.
Like the Wright Brothers and Burt Rutan before him, Bach was determined to use ingenuity and imagination to make his goal of self-piloted flight a reality. He wasn't building a plane for money or fame, but for the sheer joy of conquering the skies under his own power. As he later told Air & Space Magazine, "I wanted the fun of flying in a machine I'd created myself."

For every aviation enthusiast who's imagined the freedom of gliding through the clouds in a vessel of their own making, Bach's garage project ignited a flame of possibility. He proved that with enough passion and persistence, even your wildest flight fantasies can get off the ground. As Bach himself said, "Don't bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself."

What else is in this post?

1. Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Childhood Dream Takes Flight
2. Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Sourcing Parts Proves Tricky
3. Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Engine Troubles Threaten Takeoff
4. Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Taxiing Down Homemade Runway
5. Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Up, Up and Away on First Flight
6. Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Navigation Gets Dicey Mid-Air
7. Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Perfect Landing Completes Adventure
8. Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Future Flights to Faraway Places

Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Sourcing Parts Proves Tricky

For any DIY airplane builder, getting their hands on the right parts and materials can make or break the project. As Bach quickly discovered, building a plane from scratch in your garage is not as simple as grabbing parts from the local hardware store.

From complex equipment like the engine and avionics to aluminum sheets for the fuselage, custom airplane components require some serious hunting and gathering skills. New parts from aircraft manufacturers can be astronomically expensive, so cost-conscious builders look to snag secondhand gear. The problem is, airplane components don't exactly come up for sale every day on Craigslist.

Bach tapped his connections among fellow aircraft homebuilders to source used parts and equipment. But it still took persistence and creativity to find an engine, instruments, propeller, tires, aluminum sheets - all the specialized pieces he needed. As he wrote in his book "A Gift of Wings," "I began collecting parts the way a squirrel collects nuts for winter, never knowing what I might need."

One key score was a 90 horsepower engine from a wrecked Cessna 140, which Bach picked up for just $300. Overhauling the engine and getting it airworthy again took months of meticulous work. Custom machined parts also proved tricky - simple parts like aluminum bracket fittings had to be specially fabricated, causing delays and eating into Bach's budget.

Times when a needed part just couldn't be found or fabricated forced some creative design workarounds. Bach substituted heavier steel tubing when strong but lightweight aluminum stock proved unavailable. While it added weight, he kept the plane within safety margins. The wings were formed with spruce spars and covered in fabric rather than aluminum to simplify construction.

Throughout the scavenger hunt for parts, Bach leaned heavily on other airplane builders who had been down this road before. Fellow garage builders became mentors and parts suppliers, proving the value of community knowledge. He returned the favor by documenting his experience and paying the guidance forward.

Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Engine Troubles Threaten Takeoff

After two years of sourcing parts and welding together a flying machine in his suburban garage, Bach was eager for the moment of truth - actually getting his homebuilt bird off the ground. But during high-speed taxi tests, the plane's temperamental engine threatened to clip the wings on Bach's dream of self-piloted flight.

Like any aircraft powerplant, a properly running engine is essential for generating safe takeoff thrust and power. But the used 90hp Franklin engine Bach had procured was proving cranky and unreliable. Misfires, erratic RPMs and sputtering power plagued the garage-overhauled engine during runway tests. Reasons for the issues were manifold - gunk in the fuel lines, failing ignition wires, corroded spark plugs. The complexity of aircraft engines means even tiny faults can cause drastic performance problems.
Bach tore down the engine to systematically diagnose and fix the gremlins, while continuing to scour salvage yards and fellow builders to source replacement parts. A cracked cylinder head had to be welded back together - no off-the-shelf solution there. Magnetos were sent out for professional servicing. The carburetor got a thorough overhaul. Yet even after reassembly, more problems cropped up. Oil leaks, vapor locks in the fuel system, and electrical shorts had Bach questioning his engine rebuild skills.

Other backyard builders facing similarly frustrating engine woes offered camaraderie and troubleshooting tips. A cracked exhaust manifold escaping Bach’s notice was found thanks to a builder's keen eye. But some issues came down to the limitations of the engine's design itself. Bach learned why certified aircraft powerplants from Lycoming or Continental cost exponentially more than a salvaged Franklin - you get what you pay for in reliability.
Still, Bach refused to settle for an unreliable engine that jeopardized safe flight. He dove back into the overhaul, meticulously correcting each issue while upgrading parts that were past their prime. Finally, with spark plugs firing crisp and steady, oil temps and pressures reading textbook normal, and the engine humming a symphony of power, Bach had the trusty powerplant he needed under the hood.

Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Taxiing Down Homemade Runway

After years of sourcing parts, tinkering in the garage, and plenty of grease-stained learning experiences, the big day had finally arrived - Bach was ready to take his homebuilt airplane up for its maiden voyage. Heart pounding with excitement, Bach slowly taxied the fruit of his labors onto the grass strip of a nearby rural airport that served Chicago's amateur aviators. This was the moment every aircraft builder lives for, when their baby leaves the ground under its own power for the first time.

As the plane lumbered down the runway, Bach kept a white-knuckle grip on the yoke. He fought the urge to wrench back on the controls too early - with a homemade plane, gently coaxing it skyward took finesse to avoid stalling. Crosswinds buffeted the craft's high-set wings, their fabric coverings rippling under the loads. Bach's pulse raced faster than the revving prop. This was aviation's equivalent of a parent watching a teenager take the wheel solo for the first time. Fear mingled with pride at seeing his dream machine prepare to spread its wings.
Unlike a factory-built Piper or Cessna rolling off the assembly line, the idiosyncrasies of Bach's garage-built aircraft remained a mystery. Would all those hand-welded joints and refurbished parts hold together when true flight stresses flexed the airframe? How would the plane handle turbulence and control inputs? Were the calculations for that cantilevered tail correct? Self-doubt crept in. But Bach had checked every bolt and calculations twice. It was too late for second guessing now.
As the rumbling Franklin engine hauled Bach nearer the point of commitment, adrenaline washed away worries. He kept the nosewheel straight with rudder inputs, speed steadily building. Then, in an instant of magic the Wright Brothers would recognize, the bumps of the runway smoothed out, controls responsive and alive in Bach's hands. The earth fell away, the plane breaking free of gravity's grasp. Bach's backyard dream was airborne at last!

That first takeoff was a uniquely exhilarating experience only aircraft builders understand. The fulfillment of imagining an aircraft, slowly assembling the components, enduring setbacks and doubts, until finally seeing the fruits of your labor climb skyward is indescribable. As grass, then houses, then clouds drifted past the windows of his flying machine, Bach brimmed with pride and joy. The almost spiritual feeling of piloting your own hand-wrought aircraft, forging a fleeting bond between man and machine, is aviation in its purest sense.

Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Up, Up and Away on First Flight

The moment every aircraft builder lives for is when their baby leaves the ground under its own power for the first time. After years of sourcing parts, tinkering in the garage, and plenty of grease-stained learning experiences, Bach was ready to take his homebuilt airplane up for its maiden voyage.

Heart pounding with excitement, Bach slowly taxied the fruit of his labors onto the grass strip of a nearby rural airport that served Chicago's amateur aviators. As the plane lumbered down the runway, Bach kept a white-knuckle grip on the yoke. He fought the urge to wrench back on the controls too early - with a homemade plane, gently coaxing it skyward took finesse to avoid stalling.

Crosswinds buffeted the craft's high-set wings, their fabric coverings rippling under the loads. Bach's pulse raced faster than the revving prop. This was aviation's equivalent of a parent watching a teenager take the wheel solo for the first time. Fear mingled with pride at seeing his dream machine prepare to spread its wings.
Unlike a factory-built Piper or Cessna rolling off the assembly line, the idiosyncrasies of Bach's garage-built aircraft remained a mystery. Would all those hand-welded joints and refurbished parts hold together when true flight stresses flexed the airframe? How would the plane handle turbulence and control inputs? Were the calculations for that cantilevered tail correct?

Self-doubt crept in. But Bach had checked every bolt and calculation twice. It was too late for second guessing now. As the rumbling Franklin engine hauled Bach nearer the point of commitment, adrenaline washed away worries.

He kept the nosewheel straight with rudder inputs, speed steadily building. Then, in an instant of magic the Wright Brothers would recognize, the bumps of the runway smoothed out, controls responsive and alive in Bach's hands. The earth fell away, the plane breaking free of gravity's grasp.

Bach's backyard dream was airborne at last! That first takeoff was a uniquely exhilarating experience only aircraft builders understand. The fulfillment of imagining an aircraft, slowly assembling the components, enduring setbacks and doubts, until finally seeing the fruits of your labor climb skyward is indescribable.

As grass, then houses, then clouds drifted past the windows of his flying machine, Bach brimmed with pride and joy. The almost spiritual feeling of piloting your own hand-wrought aircraft, forging a fleeting bond between man and machine, is aviation in its purest sense.
Other amateur airplane builders could certainly relate to Bach's euphoria upon the successful first flight. For those who invest countless hours in their garage hangars tinkering away on their projects, seeing their baby get airborne is the ultimate payoff. It validates all the late nights puzzling over plans, the busted knuckles loosening stuck bolts, the poring over FAA regulations.

Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Navigation Gets Dicey Mid-Air

For any test pilot, a new aircraft's first flight is full of unknowns. Bach was no exception. As he put his homebuilt plane through its paces on that inaugural flight in 1967, some hairy moments challenged his piloting skills. Up there alone without an instructor or co-pilot, Bach had only his wits and instincts to fall back on if (or more likely when) something went wrong.

One dicey moment came early in the test hop when Bach attempted to tune the plane's radio direction finder for navigation. But with the rudimentary avionics he'd scavenged, the signal reception proved unreliable. Static garbled the audio from ground-based NDB beacons. Bach tried adjusting the ADF loop antenna to improve the signal, but soon realized navigation by instruments would be risky in this airplane.
With the ADF spit-balling his location, Bach was forced to drop back on pilotage skills - navigating by visual reference points. Given the airplane's limited range, he knew the approximate area but specific pinpoints were tough. Interstate highways visible 2,000 feet below proved handy for general orientation. Checking the sun's position and landmarks seen faintly through the haze gave a rough idea of position. Hardly GPS-grade accuracy, but good enough to get him back to home base.
Bach kept the little plane's airspeed conservative, not wanting to stress the airframe too much on this shake-down cruise. Controls felt responsive with no unpleasant vibrations. The engine held steady temps and RPMs. So far, so good. But judging precise altitude in the homebuilt aircraft took some guesswork without working instruments. Checking against cloud bases gave a ballpark figure. Bach kept some padding to ensure he stayed clear of airspace where fast-moving 727s and DC-9s plied the skies.
While the navigation uncertainties added stress, they proved the value of pilot skill as a backup. Bach couldn't rely on control towers or air traffic control out here. In the end, he sorted it out. The ADF was written off as a lost cause, but Bach got a feel for the airplane's trim and handling. It may not have been as slick as a factory-built Cessna, but the scruffy homebuilt machine handled the demands of flight reasonably well.

Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Perfect Landing Completes Adventure

After navigating his way by sight and getting a feel for the plane's handling, it was time for Bach to bring his homebuilt bird back to the nest. While the first takeoff is any aircraft builder's highest hurdle, greasing on that first landing is equally critical. As the rural airport came back into view, Bach took a deep breath and mentally prepared to guide his creation safely back to earth.

The adrenaline and excitement of that first flight made it tempting to swoop onto the runway. But Bach knew a slow, stable approach was key, especially in the finicky crosswinds. He let the speed gradually bleed off as he lined up the stubby wings into the wind. Shakeout flights on factory planes have the benefit of dense manuals detailing optimal approach speeds and flap settings. For his homebrew machine, Bach could only make his best guess based on the airframe design.
With the spindly landing gear floating just above the grass strip, Bach gently flared the nose, waiting for the rumble of wheels kissing soil. A few gentle bounces, a squeak of brakes, and the little plane had rolled to a stop, its first skyward adventure intact. Bach let out an enormous sigh, thankful his craft had returned home no worse for the wear. That first landing was always the most nerve wracking - no builder wants their baby to come crashing down after working so hard to get it airborne.
Stepping out of the cockpit, Bach ran a hand along the aluminum fuselage, reflecting on the childhood inspiration that started this journey. Through patience and persistence, he'd manifested his aviation dream, proving that with care and creativity, even backyard tinkerers can slip surly bonds. While future test flights would expand the plane's flight envelope, simply coming back to earth safely was a giant leap for Bach.
Like the Wright Brothers at Kitty Hawk, Bach's first return landing completed a historic personal flight. That fleeting moment where his aircraft's wheels once again felt the stability of the ground cemented a milestone worthy of the aviation history books. While he may not have invented powered flight itself, Bach earned his place alongside the daring DIY aviators who've advanced the state of the art through ingenuity and passion.

Backyard Dream Flight: The Amazing True Story of a Man Who Built His Own Airplane - Future Flights to Faraway Places

For Bach, that first successful test flight in his homebuilt aircraft opened up a whole new world of aviation possibilities. Sure, he'd flown plenty of times before as a passenger in rented Cessnas and Pipers. But now unbounded by rental contracts and flight school rules, Bach could chase his aviation dreams wherever the horizon led.

Like many pilots, Bach started compiling a bucket list of far-flung destinations he longed to visit from the cockpit of his own plane. The Canadian Rockies, the Bahamas, West Coast beaches - the options for weekend fly-away trips were endless. After years stuck in a suburban garage, his aircraft finally provided wings to explore. As he told AOPA Pilot magazine, "I saw my airplane as freedom - the freedom to go where I wanted, when I wanted."

But some bucket-list flights require more than just a full tank of gas. Long-distance trips or flying over remote areas demand careful flight planning and upgraded aircraft capabilities. One destination high on Bach's list was Alaska - its snow-capped peaks and bush country held an irresistible call for pilots. Yet he knew his plane's limited range and basic instruments made an Alaskan adventure too risky.

So Bach poured his passion into upgrades to make far-flung flights achievable. An additional fuel tank nearly doubled range. More powerful dual radios with VOR navigation boosted flight safety. Autopilot took workload off on marathon legs. Bigger tires handled rough landing strips. Not sexy additions, but critical for serious cross-country missions. As Dave Gustafson, who flew his Panther across the Atlantic said, "Long-distance flying is 1% romance and 99% standardization and preparation."

For many homebuilders, upgrading their pride and joy into a serious traveling machine becomes an endless labor of love. Ron Levy spent decades morphing his VariEze from local liaison into a globe-circling tourer capable of trans-Atlantic and Arctic crossings. For these pilots, wringing utility from their bespoke aircraft is the paramount goal. As Bach wrote, the real purpose of his airplane was "to fly in, not to fly around."