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ODESSA - Just 2 miles east of the Tampa Bay Executive Airport on State Road 54, there is another runway. There are no security guards, landing lights or air traffic controllers, and some of the pilots are only 6 years old.
The 600-foot runway on Starkey Field in Odessa plays host to pilots almost every day. Sometimes only three show up; other times as many as 30 are there. But if the day is clear as you drive past the intersection of SR 54 and Gunn Highway, you will almost always see aircraft in the sky.
For a moment you might be startled to witness the aerobatic maneuvers made so close to the ground, but then you realize the plane looks a bit smaller than usual. That's because Starkey Field is the home of the West Pasco Model Pilots Association, and every day, from sunrise to sunset, some of the club's 200-plus members and their guests practice their flying skills using radio control devices and model aircraft of all shapes and sizes.
On a recent Thursday, club member Ron Wilton of Safety Harbor brought his grandson Andrew Pabst, 6, to the field, where they flew a small Firebird electric, radio controlled plane with a wingspan of about 2 feet. Wilton got the plane airborne and steady, then Andrew took the controls and the Firebird joined the three other planes in the air above the runway.
After about 4 minutes Andrew lost sight, and control, of the plane when it flew in front of the sun. When he regained sight of the craft, it was already too late. The little plane was in a nose dive headed straight toward the ground.
Wilton told his grandson, "Well, go on and get it, and we'll see how bad it is." So Andrew began the hundred-yard walk into the cow pasture to find the plane.
Starkey Field is part of a working ranch. So, just as all pilots there must do, Andrew watches his step on his trek through the tall grass, as if he were in a mine field, carefully dodging the numerous cow pies scattered about.
When Andrew returns with the Firebird in several pieces, his grandfather inspects it and asks, "Where's the propeller?" Andrew's reply is only a look of despair as if to say, "I don't have to walk back out there again to look for a 4-inch piece of plastic, do I?"
Wilton's understanding reply is, "Don't worry, we'll find you a new one."
A smile returns to Andrew's face.
A few minutes later Andrew is happily watching his grandfather fly his own plane.
The Firebird is a relatively inexpensive, battery-powered starter. These learning models cost a few hundred dollars and less, but when a larger, more expensive version takes to the sky, thousands of dollars - and many hours of hard work - are at risk.
Near the clubhouse, which stands about 40 yards from the runway, John Flood is cranking the propeller of an aerobatic stunt plane. The wing span of this model is near 5 feet and there is a little model pilot with a constant, vacant stare looking through the miniature cockpit.
The plane is approximately 30 percent of the size of the real plane it is modeled after, and after Flood gets the engine started, it taxies through the grass toward the runway, maneuvering around the organic "land mines' with the precision of a top gun.
Flood shouts "Taking off!" The model plane starts down the runway and lifts into the air, smooth and easy.
Flood is the president of the association and "one of the best pilots out there," according to new member Frank Spozate.
"It can get pretty dangerous out here," Spozate said. "But those guys really know what they're doing."
Nearby, the back door of a minivan opens and Bud Walkinshaw pulls out yet another kind of aircraft. After a few preflight adjustments, Walkinshaw is controlling a model helicopter as it hovers just a few feet from the ground.
This realistic chopper is about 21/2 feet long and could easily be mistaken for the real thing if one is unsure of the distance.
After muttering something inaudible behind the "whup, whup, whup . . .' of the helicopter, Walkinshaw lands the craft to make some adjustments to the rear rotor blades, which are affecting the steering.
Back on the main airstrip Flood yells "Dead stick!" His plane has lost power, and several of the other pilots turn their heads to watch.
The results are very different from Andrew's experience that day, as Flood guides his model like a glider to a relatively smooth landing out in the pasture about 50 yards from the landing strip.
Now Flood will take that dreaded walk. He traipses into the tall grass with a tow line to see how his model fared in the emergency landing.
He'll make the repairs which could be anything from adjusting a screw to ordering a major part.
Then he'll return to Starkey Field on a clear day and vicariously take to the skies once again.