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Photo: Lane Wallace

It's a tale right out of Richard Bach or Rinker Buck — or Mark Twain, for that matter, if only there'd been airplanes back in Twain's day. Two young men, eager for adventure, set out to fly cross country in a simple Piper Cub. And since young people and adventures need at least a semblance of a point or destination, they decide to time the trip to coincide with the EAA's big annual air show in Oshkosh, Wisconsin.

What's unusual about this tale, at least at first glance, is that it's usually told in a nostalgic way, about a time that was, when teenagers still tinkered with machines and spent their time seeking outdoor adventure instead of virtual adventure online. Richard Bach's tale of taking a teenager to Oshkosh and Rinker Buck's tale of his flight with his brother, after all, took place in the 1960s.

But for all who fear that the youth of today are a lost or foreign breed who will never know or appreciate all that the real world of nature, challenge and experience can provide, I offer you Matt Bouchenot and Ryan Waller.

Matt and Ryan are both Embry Riddle students (Ryan is a CFI there and is working on his Master's degree, and Matt will get a Bachelor's degree in Aviation Science this coming December). They're also both members of the Eagle Sport Aviation Club in New Smyrna, Florida — a collegiate flying club founded by Pat Anderson and Peter Pierpont in 1998 to make sport aviation more accessible and affordable for college students. (Anderson, who was one of the founding members of Penn State soaring club and has run several soaring operations, has a day job as a professor of aerospace engineering and director of the Eagle Flight Research Center at Embry Riddle). The club has a Pitts S-2B, a number of gliders, and a Piper J-3 Cub donated by James Ray — who also, among many other things, donated the money for the EAA's Air Academy Lodge here at the Oshkosh airport).

The idea for flying the Cub to Oshkosh — the airplane has the slogan "OSHKOSH OR BUST!" written in blue painters's tape along both sides of its fuselage--came from Ryan's need to accumulate some cross-country time. "I'm trying to get my ATP rating, and the only thing I'm missing now is the cross-country time component."

Flying any long distance in a Piper Cub is certainly one of the best ways around to build cross country time, of course. Ryan first looked at flying the Cub from Daytona Beach to California, but, he says, "I ran the numbers on that, and it just didn't make sense." So Oshkosh popped up as the next best idea. He asked Matt if he'd like to go along. It didn't take much convincing.

The Club's J-3 only has a single, 12-gallon header tank, so Matt says he drained six gallons out and that spot on the bobbing fuel gauge that sticks out the top of tank, through the cowling, so they'd know when they had half a tank left. Legs would be around an hour an a half, at most. Which meant they'd be stopping a lot. But given that Matt and Ryan are both tall and lanky, that worked out okay. They flew the Cub from the front seat and switched seats at every fuel stop.

A Cub doesn't have much storage space, of course, so packing was an issue. They put one backpack on the floor in front of the front seat. The second pack, the tent, tent poles, tie-down stakes and one sleeping bag were crammed into the small storage behind the back seat. A small portable radio/intercom and a snack box sat on the floor in front of the back seat, and they both sat on their pillows. Whoever sat in the back seat had to hold the second sleeping back on his lap.

As for the trip itself, it was classic small airplane adventure, all the way. With the help of a tropical storm-generated tailwind, they made it all the way to southern Illinois in a 13-hour day, on Sunday, despite the Cub's 50-70-mph airspeed. They stopped in a little place called Metropolis, Illinois, which Matt says was "anything but." It was little more than a runway in the middle of a cornfield. But as with many Midwestern towns, it came with character. Metropolis was the fictional name of Superman's residence, of course, and there was a big painting of Superman in the airport office and a Superman statue in the town square. Matt and Ryan called the local Super 8 motel and got a room, but they had no way to get to the motel. So the receptionist arranged for her father to come pick them up. The motel's housekeeper drove them back to the airport the next morning.

Anyone who has done much cross country exploring in a small airplane can relate to this experience, of course, but it's heart-warming to see that "wow" reaction in yet another generation who are finding out the secrets of the aviation family for the very first time.

Flying between 500 and 1,000 feet, they made it as far as Galt, Illinois, just north of Chicago, by Monday night. The rains at Oshkosh kept them from flying in to the show until Wednesday morning, but by late morning Wednesday, they had the Cub parked, the tent set up under its wing, and were walking around enjoying their first experience at AirVenture.

So after 17.5 hours of hand-flying a Cub, low level, with only a borrowed Pilot III GPS to aid their paper chart pilotage, what did they think of their experience? They both grinned. "You know, flying 500 or a thousand feet above the ground, it's not tranquil while the engine is running, but it's peaceful," Matt said. "You just think, 'what else IS there?"

Ryan recounted their stop in Centerville, Tennessee, where they almost didn't stop because it looked so deserted. But they found a line guy named Woody who welcomed them, told them there was water in the fridge, and asked what he could do to help. Turns out they were the first fuel-buying customers since the airport had been taken over by new management — and it had been a while since that had happened. Their arrival was a big deal.

"And then," Matt added, "I checked my Facebook account, that night, and Woody had sent a note saying he'd found our website and wanted to stay in touch and asked us to stop back in so they could take a picture of us and our Cub to put on the wall." He paused. "Things like that, you just can't beat in life, you know? That's what we wanted out of this trip. To have some adventures, make some new friends, and that's what's happened." The website in question is the website Matt and Ryan put together to share their journey with friends: www.oshkosh-or-bust.com.

The trip has also further expanded the pair's vision of what they might like to do in aviation. They both entered Embry Riddle thinking they wanted to be airline pilots. But part of the reason they joined the flying club, they said, was that they were getting a little bored with the standard flying at Embry Riddle.

"Flying the Cub has really gotten my interest in aviation through the roof again," Matt said. "Although now I'm not so sure I want to be an airline pilot."

Ryan nodded his agreement. "Yeah, you think you know so much, and you know exactly how things are going to go, but then life throws you a few curve balls and you realize what you would have missed if you hadn't taken that side road."

They also say the trip has taught them far more than any of their local "cross country" flying around Embry Riddle. "You do all this procedural training for cross country planning, and then you take a trip like this and you realize that the reality is really different," Ryan said. "The regulations may say a 50 mile trip is a cross country, but that's not a cross country trip. THIS is a cross country trip."

A few things have changed since the days of Rinker Buck and Richard Bach, of course. Both Matt and Ryan have iPhones, and talked about the AOPA applications they looked at for fuel stops. And, of course, there is the matter of finding the connection with the line guy from Centerville on Facebook. But in a way, that only emphasized the beauty of their experience — a perfect melding of old technology and new into a timeless adventure that provided the same priceless gifts of learning and experience for Matt and Ryan as it has for decades of young people before them.

It warmed my heart to talk to Matt and Ryan, clad in flip-flops and t-shirts, still fired with enthusiasm and the freedom of unencumbered youth, and to hear that adventure hasn't lost its appeal or its ability to teach and instill a kind of perspective, wisdom and understanding that cannot ever be taught in a classroom.

Even if it now weaves its spell on young people who carry iPhones, chronicle their adventures on a website and check in with their new friends on Facebook … the magic still lives.