A Place to Land

The pilots, many in well-worn flight suits, congregated around the Big Tree at Spruce Creek Fly-In near Daytona Beach, Florida. The seven flight leaders broke from their briefing and collected their respective flights to discuss the plan of action. It was Monday, November 12, 2001 — Veteran's Day — and these pilots had been asked, in fitting tribute to the day, to overfly a local elementary school in honor of those who served.

The school administrators had no idea that when you ask for participation from the people who live at Spruce Creek, you get more than you ever hoped. No less than 27 aircraft, from homegrown Beech T-34s to Italian Siai-Marchetti sportsters to classic Piper J-3 Cubs and Stearmans, paraded in formation past the surprised and delighted children that morning.

One of the dreams shared by many pilots is that of owning a home on an airport. Though some choose this lifestyle out of convenience — they commute by airplane to work, for example — others are drawn more by the idea of living amongst their peers, having neighbors with whom they share a common passion.

Dave Sclair, manager of the Living With Your Plane Association (LWYPA) and past publisher of the General Aviation News, bought a lot on a 40-acre airpark, Shady Acres, in Sapanaway, Washington, with his wife, Mary Lou, in 1970. "After living on the airpark for a number of years, Mary Lou suggested we develop a directory of residential airparks. We started the association in 1991." LWYPA publishes a quarterly newsletter, keeps a library of floor plans for homes with integrated hangars, and conducts forums at various regional fly-ins across the country.

One of the major contributions the Sclairs have made is helping airpark developers appeal to local planning or zoning commissions. "Residential airparks are so rare (relatively speaking) that they aren't known, and when we send a letter or directory, the scope of airparks can be readily seen and insurance or finance arrangements become easier." Somewhere along the way, Sclair asked himself what constitutes an airpark. "It is this: an airport with two or more homes or homesites adjoining the runway or adjacent to it or accessible to it by taxiway or a short walk — and I describe a short walk as five to 15 minutes," says Sclair.

Within that description, however, a wide variety of choices exist for those who wish to live with their planes.

Hangar-home life

The SkyRanch at Carefree sits conveniently in a notch excluding it from the Phoenix Class B airspace. Driving north from Scottsdale to the rural Arizona community, you face a lonely stretch of road with no gas stations or services until you get to the CaZefree corporate limits. This location in the hills, removed from the bustling crowds, preserves the very reason pilots may choose to move here: quiet.

The SkyRanch began as a desert resort, complete with hotel, golf course, and landing strip. This was back in the 1950s, when Phoenix was still a relatively sleepy burg — it would see its population spurt from 140,000 in 1955 to more than 500,000 by the mid-1960s — and the little city lay far to the south. Before the runway morphed into the private airport it is today, Woodson K. Woods, the original developer, ran a flying circus from the strip, replete with Saturday rides for the public and a museum with Spitfires, Wacos, and German military aircraft. But a change was in store, as people saw the community as more of a potential retreat in the soothing sands.

In the mid-1980s, the original industrial-zoned property was reclassified and roughly 60 condos sprung up. Now, the average lot size stretches to two acres, with some homes on five to 10 acres of land. Carefree avoided annexation by nearby communities, and land was purchased for the original hangars. Today, 90 homes and 133 hangars fill the space adjacent to the single 4,000-foot paved runway.

As of spring 2002 about 120 members — home or hangar owners — comprise the airport homeowners association, which was formed in 1985. "You have to be a good neighbor," says Marie Christensen, a past president of The Ninety-Nines, who has lived at Carefree for eight years and owns a turbo Beechcraft B36 Bonanza signed by Olive Ann Beech — it was the first turbo Bonanza.

Preston Westmoreland, a local radio personality and aviation video producer who makes his home at Carefree, concurs. "Each place does have a different personality." Carefree has no commercial operations aside from fuel for residents. With an average of seven operations daily, the quiet atmosphere appeals to those who want the convenience of a runway but the peace of the desert.

But that's not to say folks at Carefree don't celebrate their common passion. An open house held two years ago featuring aviation legends such as retired Gen. Joe Floss, ace in the Pacific Theater, brought the surrounding community into the Carefree gates. And a recently opened maintenance hangar was a ready excuse for a big party last February.

Actively working with the neighbors to assuage noise complaints is a critical mission for the airport association. For example, a potentially noise-sensitive Catholic church sits right across the road from the approach end of Runway 24. Several years ago, residents invited a squadron of Spitfires performing at an airshow in Scottsdale to fly in to Carefree during their stay. A flurry of round engines over the silent rocks promised a little more action than the community normally delivered, so the association alerted those around them to the event.

Something for everyone

On the other side of the country, another airpark surrounds a 4,000-foot paved strip. Spruce Creek Fly-In showcases some of the same elements of aviation, community, and peaceful living as Carefree — but on a larger scale.

Located on the southwestern edge of Daytona Beach, Spruce Creek's 1,200 acres were originally a naval airfield built during World War II. During the 1960s, pilot McKinley Conway envisioned a way to make use of abandoned military airports by turning them into havens where pilots could live and fly, and a group of Atlanta-based investors helped him transform this idea into reality at Spruce Creek. The original airfield, then annexed by the City of Daytona Beach, had descended into a no-man's land for hot rodders, drag racers, and couples sneaking off to "park." In 1970, Spruce Creek Fly-In, now arguably the largest fly-in community in operation, took over and took off.

"We chose Spruce Creek after visiting several other fly-in communities," says Linn Buell, a commercial pilot, glider instructor, and board member of the Vintage Sailplane Association who moved to Spruce Creek in 1999 with her husband, Lee. "It was a retirement decision, even though Lee is not yet retired. Mostly good flying weather was also a big part of our decision." The Buells own a Tiger Moth and a Great Lakes 2T1A-2, which they keep hangared in their taxiway home. Though Linn is a retired pharmacist, she discovered a talent for introducing people to the area and acquired her real estate broker's license in 2001.

With 1,200 homes and development near capacity, the mature fly-in appears to live up to its promise of a complete lifestyle for pilots and nonpilots alike. Though roughly 400 residences are described as "hangar homes," the majority are laid out on streets much like any high-end subdivision.

One question that looms in the minds of those who have chosen nonpilot spouses: How do I convince my other half to live in a place that breathes aviation? Spruce Creek offers an answer, with a variety of services and activities that appeal to other interests.

Pat Ohlsson (a real estate agent and part owner of Spruce Creek Fly-In Realty) and three of her friends started the Lunch Bunch in 1987. While Ohlsson is a longtime pilot and active member of Women in Aviation International, the "bunch" is in no way exclusively for pilots. "The four of us met for lunch, then decided at our next meeting to ask other women from the Creek to join us, and it went from there. We now have anywhere from 40 to 105 attending once a month."

The Toy Parade, held each December, showcases homemade "floats" concocted from everything imaginable: airplanes, boats, motorcycles, bicycles, golf carts, kids, and pets. "Out of the 15 years we've been here, Lenny [Ohlsson's husband] has been Santa for 10 of those years." Ohlsson's 1976 Grumman AA-5B Tiger, festooned with artificial Christmas trees on each wing and flying American flags, won first place in the airplane category in last year's parade.

For those who fly, the Gaggle Flight meets every Saturday morning in the central ramp area, adjacent to the Big Tree. Pilots partner up and fly out in formation to nearby airports for breakfast. The service area of the complex offers fuel, flight instruction, and some maintenance, as well as an airport cafe for the few days when flying elsewhere for a bite isn't an option. The Spruce Creek Flying Club also arranges longer fly-outs and a monthly buffet dinner eight months out of the year. Destinations such as Key West; Asheville, North Carolina; and New Orleans have been on the schedule recently.

More than just fun, though, is the sense of community. One of the unique traditions of Spruce Creek is the Support Service Network, which offers a variety of equipment on loan to residents of the fly-in. Say you're a new grandparent, and the new baby is coming down to visit. The network has cribs, strollers, even sippy cups available, so you need not make a last-minute dash to Target. "You name it — we have it," says Ohlsson.

"After visiting Spruce Creek in 1979 and then again in 1985, I got hooked but never dreamed of living here," recalls Ohlsson. "This is paradise, and when you go to heaven it is just a lateral move."

E-mail the author at [email protected].