Take One Pristine Bonanza, Add Luxurious Tent And Friends Aplenty

by ANN Correspondent Jeremy King

When Jeff Deaton comes to camp at AirVenture, he doesn't touch down, taxi in and throw a sleeping bag under the wing. He makes a statement.

For one week a year, Deaton -- owner of an award-wining Beechcraft Bonanza -- lives in luxury that Boy Scouts dream of. A giant, two-roomed tent opens into a sunroom, another sunshade along the side of the tent makes for a wrap-around, grass-floored veranda with a view. Across the taxiway, a friend's Cessna 170 decorates the front yard.

The rise and fall of gull-winged Stinsons in the distance substitute for rolling hills; the staccato of short exhaust stacks and the rumble of ancient airplanes ambling to and from the runway replace the songbirds with a symphony to these enthusiasts' ears.

This could only be AirVenture.

Deaton, a retired Marine who now makes a living with yachts on the outer banks of North Carolina, is a master of details. As we talk, his eye catches numerous things he constantly adjusts. The door over his fuel cap, the interior polished to a gleam, isn't opened to the proper angle. His flagpole needs another section inserted to raise the Jolly Roger higher over his compound. This kind of detail is lost on average campers, but it pays for Deaton.

A sign under the right wing lists the awards this airplane won in judging, and we're not talking about "Best 50s V-tailed Bonanza under 227 but over 223 horsepower," at unheard-of fly-ins. The list includes buzzwords like grand champion, best custom classic, AirVenture, Lakeland, and Burlington. Those aren't easy awards to win.

The tires gleam. Anything not shiny on this airplane would stand out like a sore thumb. The oil tank reflects like a wavy mirror, as does the inside of the baggage door. A fuel door, flipped open, reflects a tiny, low cloud floating over.

But this is a Bonanza, and an early one at that -- it's not known for hauling cargo. So, Deaton had to plan carefully for his arrival.

"In years past, I shipped my gear up here to a friend who held onto it for me," Deaton said. "This year, I rented a storage unit just down the road for our stuff." It must have been a large unit.

Deaton says each year, a new widget works its way into his campground ("We started with a blender.") This year's widget is a big one. "We have an oven, and cooked Lasagna for 10 the other night," Deaton said. The oven also yielded chocolate chip cookies. It's a routine Deaton perfected in a short span.

"I've only been camping like this since 2004," Deaton said. "I'm a new guy, but we're making an impression here."

Everyone has a role in this campsite. Deaton handles breakfast and lunch every day; the families around the campsite take turns preparing dinner every evening. Airplane lights line the awning in front of Deaton's tent, and beneath them each night, the group of family and friends watch slideshows of photos from the day.

Deaton's collection of friends camping with him grows each year; this year is up to 14, but by midweek the crowd had tapered down ("voted off the island")" by reality checks, he said. Deaton anticipated more friends to show up as the weekend neared, though.

Deaton's wife, Suzette, and son, Blake, 6, came along for the adventure.

"She loves it," Deaton said. "We've got a queen size airbed, and most of the comforts of home here. Blake is really into the military thing and he runs around here with a military helmet on his head. We call him General Mayhem."

"Most of the people you see camping here are very successful people who could stay in a very nice hotel, if they wanted to," he added. "You couldn't pay me to stay in a hotel. I'm here for the airshow and to have my airplane judged, but I love the 11-day tailgate party that comes with it."

FMI: www.airventure.org