Nearly the farthest point in the continental United States from Ballard is southern Florida, almost 3,000 nautical miles. But, Bruce Hilyer and Geo Levin weren’t sailing across the country on a boat; they were flying an antique biplane – a Beechcraft Staggerwing.

Their cross-country flight began Sunday, May 9. By the following Saturday night, both men were back in Ballard. Over the course of seven days, they had logged 27.5 hours of flying time, stayed in Cheyenne, Wyo., weathered over in Denver, Colo., been adopted by “good ol' boys” in Tennessee and serendipitously landed in Florida in time to witness the final launch of the Atlantis space shuttle.

For Levin, who saw the Hindenburg aloft when he was 9 years old in 1936, the entire trip and its grand finale at the NASA launch was a dream come true, even though it was one he hadn’t known to dream.

But, that’s the end of the story; the beginning is closer to 1998, when Hilyer bought the 1937 Staggerwing after seeing it at an air show in Arlington.

A former Parks Commissioner, he had taken up flying around the time he became a King County judge. In 1998, Hilyer had ostensibly given up flying after an accident. Then he fell irrationally in love with the Staggerwing.

As the name implies, the wings are staggered with the lower wing further forward than the upper. This design has many advantages for pilot visibility in the air, but not on the ground, when its nose points skyward.

The Staggerwing is also a “tail dragger.” Unlike a tricycle configuration of wheels, the front of the plane lifts off and the back wheel, the tail, drags until it is fully airborne.

They are notoriously difficult to land as they land first on one wheel and then the other, preferring to zigzag on the landing strip.

Except for metal around the fuselage, the Staggerwing is formed entirely of wood, originally covered in a cotton material but now covered in poly-fiber.

Hilyer quickly learned (the engine blew up within his first six flying hours) that his impulse buy was going to entail a labor of love and lots of expenses. “With a Staggerwing, the skill set is woodworking," he realized.

Hilyer didn’t know it, but he needed to meet the someone whose childhood passion for building model airplanes in wood had merged in a pilot, master woodworker and retired Port of Seattle engineer: Geo Levin.

A mutual friend of both (a pilot and judge) realized Hilyer and Levin needed to connect. The Staggerwing was an impetuous crush for Hilyer. His resulting friendship with Levin was a match made for cruising altitudes.

Rare planes like the Beechcraft Staggerwing elicit passion in those who love flying and design. Over the course of several winters, Hilyer and Levin restored the plane, one wing per winter.

The wing would be in Levin's shop in his Ballard basement, where, “It’s just a bigger-scale wood model.”

Outside on the lawn, it prompted curiosity, and offers of help.

On every major trip that Hilyer made in the Staggerwing, Levin was his co-pilot (it has dual controls). A few years ago, the restoration was essentially complete.

Hilyer looked at the future and decided his work was done; it would be best to sell the plane in its full glory.

That process took two years, but the ultimate sale was accomplished in days. The new Brazilian owners wanted it delivered immediately.

Brazil wasn’t an option for the presiding judge, so they agreed on Fort Lauderdale. When Hilyer called, Levin simply responded, “Where are we going?” They left four days later.

Hilyer’s greatest fear about delivering the plane to Florida was possible mechanical problems “somewhere in the midwest.”

There were no problems. They cleared the Cascades and the Rockies on the first day then waited out thunder storms and tornado warnings in Colorado. They survived a landing field in Tennessee without taxi lights and reveled in the hospitality afforded by their visit to the Beechcraft Heritage Museum in Tullahoma, Tenn.

They recognized Disney World from the air and then passed off the Staggerwing in an anticlimactic transfer by a hangar in Fort Lauderdale. They rented a car and set off for Kennedy Space Center to watch the final launch of the space shuttle Atlantis.

That liftoff marked the true end of the journey, one that began for Levin as he watched the Hindenburg and dreamed of flight and one that started when Hilyer fell irrationally in love with an antique.

Now that it is all over – the years of restoration, inspections, the flight across country and ride back home to Ballard – they both look on the experience as almost perfect, like that rare bird itself, the Beechcraft Staggerwing.