Excowsions: Going to Boeing

A lovely Friday (this past one) in Seattle. Balmy springy weather, sunny bright blue skies, a stomach full of pancakes from Julia's of Wallingford, and a rental car with a full tank of gas. Could there be (in my Chandler Bing voice) a more perfect day?

Yes! Yes, there could be. Head on down Route 5 towards Seatac airport and swerve off (don't forget your turn signals) onto exit 158 and head for Boeing's Museum of Flight. I've been to Seattle a bajillion times and every time I pass the big billboard with the SR-71 Blackbird soaring across the sky and narrowly missing Air Force One I say to myself "Self, you oughta go to the Museum of Flight." Well, Friday was the day!


The Museum of Flight is built in a giant horseshoe around the original Boeing "Red Barn" aviation factory, which provides a dandy historical context from the age of the Wright Brothers to the Starship Voyager. Oh wait, it doesn't go up quite that far, but there's still plenty of cool stuff to see. Right from moment one when you pull your rental car into the space-age parking lot there's stuff to look at. See, somebody parked their planes right on the front lawn! I always get in trouble when I leave my toys on the lawn at home:


Plop down your fourteen bucks at the front desk to get a dashing wristband that gives you admission to the entire museum. But don't rent that audio tour! The sign says "Audio tour rental, $5.00"...but when I asked to rent one they pulled out a credit card machine and said "And we'll also need a credit card to take a deposit on the audio tour module." Well, okay, sez I, slowly taking out my MasterCow. Then desk clerk runs my card through the machine and hands me back the slip to sign on the deposit for a total of

wait for it

Six hundred dollars.

Uh uh. No way. Nuh-huh. I'm not signing that. The clerk explains that this is just a deposit in case the module is lost or broken, but I'm not feeling at all confident in carrying around a six hundred dollar plastic phone, especially since my hooves are full of my camera—and I'm feeling a little paranoid since I put a crack in my laptop screen a couple days before. I've done enough audio tours in museums (for example, the excellent audio program in London's Cabinet War Rooms) and have never been asked to put down this kind of moolah as a safety. "I'm sorry, I don't think I want this," I explain. "I'm kind of a butterfingers." She tries to convince me that the thin lanyard strung from the end of the plastic phone will keep me from dropping it, but I fix her with a stern stare and say "It's more difficult with hooves." In the end she grumbles a bit and holds me up for another five minutes while she voids my receipt, tears up the credit card slip, and refunds my five dollars. I head off for the museum feeling safer if a little worked up. Sitting on the end of the counter is a placard promoting the audio tour. It lists a "fifty dollar cash deposit required." Huh. Looks like some contradiction there, huh? I might have put down fifty dollars cash deposit for a good audio tour and not been too devastated if I accidentally sat on the phone. But six hundred? Why, that's two hundred copies of 52. That's four years worth! I will not spent four years in this museum! Later when I get home I do some research on the Museum of Flight's website and find that I probably just shoulda downloaded some of their podcasts, but whatdaya gonna do? What did I do? I fired up my Star Trek soundtrack playlist on my iPod and stepped into the museum.

The six hundred dollar audio tour, however, was the only disappointment of the trip. While not as massive or as comprehensive as Washington's Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum (which I was lucky enough to visit last May around this time), it's still a wonderful museum.


Start your visit in the original Boeing building, the "Red Barn," which features a great early history of Boeing and Seattle/Pacific Northwest flight and aviators, plus a dandy sideroom exhibition on the Wright Brothers. Peer in historic Boeing offices, see early planes in construction, plus a whole buncha plane parts that I wouldn't be allowed to play with because I'd probably wind up with some nuts and bolts left over. The room is bright, airy, and sunny—a perfect exhibition space—and there's something to see everywhere you turn. Look, here's a Sopwith Camel just my size. But they've got it strung from the ceiling so I can't get in it and soar about. Curse you, Red Baron!:


Move from here into the large two-story Personal Courage Wing, both floors a very thorough and comprehensive history of aviation during the two World Wars. There's a lot of great planes and models to look at, plus plenty of multimedia including film and radio to give you background into the lives of the fighters and fliers of the World Wars. The equipment and machinery are amazing and fun to look at, but most touching was an exhibition of photographs of National Medal of Honor winners—the men and women behind our victories—accompanied by their own words. Very touching and a vital addition to learning the history. It made me reach for my little monogrammed handkerchief. See, already I have things in all my hooves; I surely woulda dropped that audio tour phone!

Of course, don't miss all the cool planes:



And there's even a small display that includes a Steve Savage, Balloon Buster comic book. Boy, am I sure glad I didn't buy a balloon in the gift shop:


From World War II step into the modern age of aviation in the massive and aptly named Great Gallery, which has seventy-eight, count 'em, seventy-eight planes and plane replicas in its hangar-sized exhibition space:


...including the Lockheed Blackbird...yes, that's the X-Men's plane. Thankfully, Gambit was nowhere to be seen:

...the front half of a commercial jetliner...hey, this must be that plane from Lost!...


...and didn't I see Tattoo and Saruman flying this one in The Man with the Golden Gun?:


Some of the planes have simulators set up so you can fly 'em. Look! I'm taking the highway to the Danger Zone! Goose! Goose!:


Don't forget to stop in the gift shop (I bought a souvenir pencil). But even after you're done with the big Boeing complex, you ain't done with the Museum of Flight yet, buddy! Oh no no no no no! Dart across the curiously named four lane highway that is East Marginal Way and if you make it, you can tour an outdoor exhibition yard with some of the Museum's biggest-name attractions. No, not Orson Welles, but something even bigger: Air Force One!:


If Harrison Ford isn't busy battling terrorists on board, you can step inside AF1 and see the President's flying palace in all its 1970s glory, including the conference room...:


...the communication station...:


...and the Presidential biffy. Hey, if I was designing this, I woulda put the presidential seal on the toilet seat:


That ain't the end of the fun! Step across the tarmac and come face to pointy nose cone with the Barry Allen of planes, the Concorde!:


I was very surprised at how narrow and small the Concorde was. There's only four seats across in both coach and the forward first class section, and even for slender slender me it's a sideways squeeze down the aisle. I guess if you're riding the Concorde, you're riding it for speed and not luxury. But man, are its bathrooms aerodynamically designed for speed!:


Also, exactly what you'd expect from a major museum: placards relating rumors:


But I kid Rod Stewart. Seriously, if you're in Seattle, don't miss a grand day out—head on down to the Museum of Flight and come away with your spirit soaring. Unless you dropped your six hundred dollar audio tour, in which case the only thing flying will be dollars out of your wallet.