Patrick Dean's first flight in the plane he spent eight years building got under way with a smooth takeoff and ascent.

But only minutes after lifting off from Suburban Airport in Laurel, the small plane suddenly jerked to the left. The wing flaps dropped uncontrollably, the aircraft went into a 180-degree turn, and Dean looked down at the Baltimore-Washington Parkway for a place to make an emergency landing.

"I'm in trouble," the 42-year- old architect from Howard County recalled thinking. The plane went into a nose dive, heading for a patch of woods just off the highway, and Dean closed his eyes.

One of about 29,000 pilots of home-built aircraft in the United States, Dean was lucky on that brisk Friday afternoon last month, coming away from the crash with just a broken nose and bumps and bruises. But the accident damaged his flying aspirations nearly as extensively as his aircraft.

His passion for aviation had driven him to spend 1,000 hours and tens of thousands of dollars to build the sleek, unusual-looking plane. Now he wonders whether he'll ever fly again, much less build another plane.

"To see it broken up like this - it really breaks your heart," Dean, a father of two from Clarksville, said last week as he looked at the wreckage, which sits in a hangar at the Laurel airport.

Experimental aircraft, a category that includes homebuilt planes, make up 10 percent of all general aviation aircraft in the United States. But the numbers have grown steadily over the past 15 years, according to the Experimental Aircraft Association. The pilots must be licensed, but the planes need not be certified by the Federal Aviation Administration the way manufactured small aircraft are.

Still, the safety record of experimental aircraft is nearly identical to that of manufactured small planes, according to EAA, a Wisconsin-based organization of recreational aviation enthusiasts.

'Very conscientious'

"For the most part, 'home-builders' are very conscientious about what they're building and the care that they take in following designs," said Chris Dancy, spokesman for the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association, a general aviation advocacy group based in Frederick that boasts more than 415,000 members.

"Once they're actually flying them, they're held to the same safety standards as any pilot," Dancy said.

Dean's interest in aviation was sparked years ago when he sat next to a young pilot on a commercial flight who was reading a flying magazine. He took his first lesson in August 1996. Less than a year later, he earned his pilot's license.

After growing weary of expensive airplane rentals - costs can run up to $100 an hour - Dean decided to build a plane.

"I thought about buying a plane, but it's really expensive," Dean said.

Besides, he was up for a project that he could throw himself into.

"I've always been good with my hands," he said. "I can pretty much learn anything as I go."

The kit for the white Genesis aircraft, which Dean purchased on the Web site of a company that also sells used planes, arrived in June 1999. Dean assembled everything except the engine, which he bought separately for $13,000.

After his plane passed FAA inspection in June last year, Dean waited for a day with clear skies and calm winds to go for a test flight. His wife, Lori, didn't know he was taking the plane out that day.

Safety was a priority. Dean had installed a video camera in the cockpit so he could monitor how the plane performed, and he wore a motorcycle helmet. On a lark, he had shoved a knife in his pocket before he left his house.

Preparation

At 4 p.m., after spending 30 minutes sitting in the cockpit mentally preparing himself, Dean was ready for takeoff. He planned to circle the airport a few times and come back in.

"Everything seemed right," Dean said. "I pulled out on the runway and sat there for a minute. I'd been nervous for a while. I didn't know what to expect."

He hit the throttle, sped down the runway and took off. The initial minutes of the flight were exhilarating, Dean said. But when his ascent reached about 500 feet, the plane began to go out of control and plummeted.

About 200 feet from the ground, Dean pulled the bright red lever to release a parachute that was attached to the plane.

Crash in the woods

Dean crashed into the woods on the southbound side of the Baltimore-Washington Parkway, just north of Route 197, the parachute tangled in a tree. The flight had lasted 15 minutes.

"I was shocked," he said. "I wasn't sure what to do."

Dean was pinned in the cockpit. Realizing that gas was gushing from the plane, he grabbed his knife and worked frantically to cut his seat belt. Several bystanders helped pull him from the cockpit. One woman applied a compress to his injured nose.

"If I wasn't wearing a helmet and wearing a seat belt. ... That and luck, I guess, saved me," Dean said. "I had a total feeling of disbelief the entire time."

Dean was flown to the Prince George's Hospital Center in Cheverly. The southbound lanes of the parkway were closed for hours. Lori Dean said it took her two hours to get to the hospital because of the backup.

The cause of the crash is unknown. Investigations by the FAA and the National Transportation Safety Board typically take months to complete. The footage from the video camera was turned over to the FAA.

The blood-stained cockpit and the battered wings rest among dead leaves in the hangar, where the scent of gasoline hangs in the air. The engine was the only salvageable part.

The couple returned to the crash site a few days after the accident and found the knife, his glasses and the keys, which they plan to keep as memorabilia in a case at their home.

'Attachment'

Dean said he won't be building another plane because of the deep "emotional attachment" that develops. He likened the experience to a Jeep he customized in high school that was totaled after another driver crashed into it.

"You don't want to put your soul into something and have it happen again," he said.

His wife has encouraged him to continue pursuing his passion.

"I know how much he loves to fly, and I would hate for him not to be able to do something he loves so much," she said.

But Dean is unsure whether he will fly again. Even though his only physical scar is a faint red mark on his nose, his love of flying has been battered.

"Right now, my dream has been crushed," he said. "I don't know if my disappointment's going to stop me, or my fear of flying."

In an attempt to focus on something else, Dean has begun to poke around about planes for sale.

"But it's not going to happen for a long time," he said.

tyeesha.dixon@baltsun.com