It's funny -- no matter how tired I am, no matter how hung-over I am, when that first round engine goes over at OSH, I wake up giggling.
In January, I start dreaming about OSH. By July, I want to be there, right friggin' NOW. If I ever retire, I will be one of the volunteers that goes to OSH in June, and leaves in August.
OSH is the one thing in my life that has been completely, 100% consistent. Through births, deaths, weddings, jobs, businesses, and illness, I have been there, year in and year out, with my family. My children have grown up there, and I intend to grow old there. When I die, I want my ashes sprinkled over the North 40. It's the one place on earth that I have been happiest.
Every pilot needs to fly into OSH at least once. OSH is a rite of passage, a sense of belonging that every pilot deserves.