They had cracked steel shafts. Twice. Their shed had blown off its foundation. The wind wasn't cooperating. And they'd just spent three days hauling an untested airplane across North Carolina on trains and a boat.
On Dec. 17, 1903, Orville Wright released a restraining wire and flew 120 feet into history. But the weeks leading to that moment reveal a story of remarkable problem-solving, stubborn perseverance, and the very human frustrations of two bicycle mechanics from Dayton who refused to give up on an impossible dream.
The journey to that 120-foot flight began months earlier.
In the 21st century it is possible to get from Dayton to the Outer Banks of North Carolina in a long day's drive. We take that for granted. In 1903 that trip took two days of train travel with more than one transfer and then about a four-hour boat ride across the wide Pamlico Sound, and they were hauling an airplane.
The Wrights arrived in late September along with their untested 1903 Flyer I. They didn't have room in the cycle shop to fully assemble the airplane with the motor and propellers, all of which were of their own design and construction.
Fortunately when you are the inventor, creator as well as the hands-on guys turning the wrenches and swinging the hammers, you can make instant decisions to adapt.
In 1902, they had built a shed, which had been blown off the foundations by the nasty Atlantic weather. Fixing that came first. Gotta have a place to live, eat and get out of the weather. They then built a second shed in which to put all this together. The first airplane hangar. More sawing and hammering.
You know, this is a good spot to reinforce the majesty of the Wrights' accomplishments. They did all this on their own. In addition to solving the age-old quandary of flight and changing the world, they created the first principles of aeronautics, the math, the mechanics, the gasoline motor, creating aerial propellers. They ran a bicycle business, were photographers and then built their own place to live and work. On a desolate beach that took three days to get to.
Any 21st-century aviator will tell you that getting ready to fly is a process. Orville and Wilbur invented the process. They had to create the whole shootin' match.
Their motor worked — sort of. The vibrations caused by chain drives and whirling propellers cracked the steel tube shafts. Another more sturdy set arrived and they cracked too.
Now the Wrights are known to be taciturn and stoic, but I have to believe that some form of astonished cursing and yelling had to happen. I mean they were human beings.
This time, Orville headed for Dayton to make shafts from spring steel. That's three or four days each way. He finally returned with the new hardware and once installed they tested the Flyer and all worked without another challenge.
Time to fly, except for stuff like the weather. This time not enough wind. They needed a good headwind to fly into. That way they only needed to gain about 7 mph to get airborne.
Anxiety and impatience took over so on Dec. 14 they gave it a try. They pointed the Flyer into the winds, even though still light, and Wilbur won the coin toss to try first. The Flyer gained more speed than Orville could keep up with alongside and the Flyer rose into the air. The controls were very sensitive and overcontrol was easy. The Flyer climbed too steeply and stalled, settling into the sand. A few wooden parts cracked — very predictable and fixable.
What mattered is that the Flyer had taken off under its own power. They knew that they had figured it all out. They got to work making the repairs, confident in their invention.
Dec. 17 dawned with ice on the roof and at least 25-30 mph of wind. Cold air and steady winds.
The crew from the lifesaving station arrived to help them carry the Flyer to the launch track and get set up. Orville set up their camera and asked John Daniels to trip the shutter when the Flyer reached the end of the track.
Now then, give that a thought. They were confident enough to anticipate where to focus the camera and ask for help to get the shot.
Orville walked from the camera to the Flyer and climbed aboard. It was his turn to try. The motor was started and warmed up. Wilbur alongside. Orville released the restraining wire and the Flyer moved down the track picking up speed, faster than Wilbur could keep up. The Flyer left the ground. A shadow appeared and flew into the wind. Orville remembered to keep the elevator under control. He flew about 120 feet and landed on ground the same elevation he had taken off from. They flew into history.
They had achieved their goal.
Blue Skies and Tailwinds is presented by SNC, a global aerospace and defense firm, with support from the Wright State University Aviation Science and Technology Program. The series is produced at the Eichelberger Center for Community Voices at WYSO.
