Cal Rodgers and the Vin Fiz
Del Rio, Val Verde County, Texas
Marker Inscription
In 1910, publishing titan William Randolph Hearst offered $50,000 to the first person to successfully complete a transcontinental flight across America in 30 days, with a stop in Chicago, Illinois. Adventurer and newly-trained aviator Calbraith "Cal" Perry Rodgers sought sponsorship from the Armour Meatpacking Company to bankroll his attempt. In return, Rodgers agreed to promote Armour's new grape-flavored soft drink called Vin Fiz. The marketing agreement finalized, Rodgers took off for the West Coast from Sheepshead Bay, Long Island, New York, on Sept. 17, 1911, in a customized Wright Brothers EX Flyer he named, appropriately, Vin Fiz. Mountain ranges were a major problem for early underpowered aircraft, so after reaching Chicago, to avoid large ranges, Rodgers steered southward to Texas. Accompanying him on his record-breaking attempt was a support train carrying spare parts, mechanics and Rodgers' wife, Mabel. Rodgers crossed into Texas and reached San Antonio by Oct. 22. Two days later, he landed in Uvalde and later in Spofford. The next morning, he crashed while taking off but survived. On Oct. 26, 1911, Rodgers landed in Del Rio. The arrival of the airplane was such an event that schools closed to allow children to see the Vin Fiz land in a field east of San Felipe Creek and south of the railroad tracks. Rodgers' stay in Del Rio was brief, but his landing brought aviation to Val Verde County. From here, Rodgers proceeded westward toward El Paso and landed in Pasadena, California on Nov. 5, 1911, but failed to win the Hearst challenge. In his attempt, though, Rodgers flew over 1,000 miles of Texas and landed in the state 23 times. (2005)
Erected by Texas Historical Commission
The Story
In 1911, chasing a $50,000 Hearst prize for the first transcontinental flight in 30 days, aviator Cal Rodgers set out from Long Island in a Wright Flyer christened the Vin Fiz after the grape soda that sponsored him. Underpowered against western mountains, he swung south into Texas, trailed by a support train carrying spare parts and his wife. When he landed at Del Rio on October 26, schools let out so children could watch the airplane come down beside San Felipe Creek. He reached California on November 5, too late for the prize but having crossed the continent by air.
Why it matters
Rodgers' battered, much-repaired flight was the first crossing of the United States by airplane, a daring proof that aviation could someday span the nation.
The story behind this marker
AI contextThe era
In the first years after the Wright brothers coaxed a powered machine into the air, flight was still a carnival marvel more than a means of travel. By 1910 airplanes were fragile lattices of wood, wire, and canvas, powered by engines that produced barely enough thrust to clear a fence, let alone a mountain range. Pilots were a tiny, daredevil fraternity, and most Americans had never seen an aircraft leave the ground.
Into that moment stepped the newspaper barons, who understood that spectacle sold papers. William Randolph Hearst, one of the loudest voices in American publishing, dangled a fortune before anyone bold enough to fly clear across the continent within a single month. It was less a scientific challenge than a public dare, and it captured a country hungry for wonders.
Texas, and the country around Del Rio on the Rio Grande, sat squarely in the path of anyone clever enough to route a weak airplane away from the high western peaks. The low country along the railroad offered a corridor a struggling flyer could follow — and a support train could follow it too.
People & events
Calbraith "Cal" Perry Rodgers was a newly minted aviator, not a seasoned one, when he set his sights on Hearst's fifty-thousand-dollar prize. To pay for the attempt he struck a bargain with the Armour Meatpacking Company, agreeing to fly as a billboard for their new grape-flavored soft drink, Vin Fiz. He christened his customized Wright brothers EX Flyer with that name and lifted off from Sheepshead Bay on Long Island on September 17, 1911.
Early aircraft could not climb over the great mountain ranges, so after reaching Chicago, Rodgers turned his nose south toward Texas to skirt the highest ground. He did not fly alone. A special train shadowed his route, loaded with spare parts, a crew of mechanics, and his wife, Mabel — a rolling repair shop for a machine that broke often and badly.
Rodgers crossed into Texas and reached San Antonio by October 22. He landed at Uvalde, then Spofford, and one morning crashed on takeoff yet walked away. On October 26, 1911, he set down at Del Rio. The arrival was such an event that the schools let their children out to watch the Vin Fiz come down in a field east of San Felipe Creek, south of the railroad tracks. His stay was short, but it brought the airplane to Val Verde County for the first time. He pushed on toward El Paso and finally reached Pasadena, California, on November 5 — far too late for Hearst's thirty-day deadline.
Its place in the American story
Rodgers lost the prize, but he won something the prize could not measure: his was the first crossing of the United States by airplane. In an age when a single flight of a few miles made headlines, a man had strung the whole continent together under his own wings.
What makes the feat so distinctly American is how battered and improvised it was. The Vin Fiz was rebuilt so many times along the way that little of the original machine is said to have finished the journey, and the effort was bankrolled not by a government or an academy but by a soda advertisement. It was equal parts engineering, endurance, and sheer stubbornness — a proof of concept written across the map.
His path also mattered for reasons beyond the record. By flying over more than a thousand miles of Texas and touching down in the state nearly two dozen times, Rodgers carried the airplane to towns that had only read about such things. He showed a still-doubtful public that the machine, for all its frailty, could someday span the nation — a promise the next generation of aviators would make good.
If you visit
Stand near the marker in Del Rio and try to picture the scene the inscription describes: a whole town's schoolchildren turned loose to watch a flimsy flying machine descend into a field beside San Felipe Creek, just south of the railroad tracks. The creek and the rail line are still the bones of the landscape here, and knowing where the Vin Fiz came down gives an ordinary stretch of ground a jolt of history.
This is border country on the Rio Grande, dry and wide, and it rewards a traveler who likes to imagine the sky as much as the scenery. Rodgers used the low country and the railroad as his guide rails, so as you drive the region you are, in a loose sense, retracing the corridor he chose to dodge the mountains.
Make it one stop on a longer road trip along Rodgers' Texas route — he landed in the state some twenty-three times — and the marker stops being an isolated plaque and becomes a single frame in a coast-to-coast adventure. It is a fine place to remember that failure and triumph can arrive in the same flight: he missed the prize, and still made history.
Written by AI to add context, grounded in the marker’s inscription and the historical record. The inscription above is the original, unaltered text.
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Related people
- · Cal Rodgers
- · William Randolph Hearst
Related events
- · First transcontinental airplane flight, 1911
Themes & tags
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