Discussion in 'Trip Reports' started by Kayak Jack, Jul 9, 2012.
It's always sad to see the end of a happy era. I will miss the flight reports.
Well thanks, Jon, I will too. I'll try to add some comments about our vagabonding with bikes. There are three distance ranges that I intend us to ride:
1. So close that we can leave home on the bikes.
2. Nearby, but we load the bikes into the car, drive to an area or town, ride, then return home again that day.
3. Far enough away that - after driving there and riding, we would rather stay in the area another day and see more stuff.
I'm "exploring" various towns and trails using a combination of Travel Advisor, Yelp, and Google Maps. I list areas, things to do, places to eat, and places to remain over night (RON). For now, I'm avoiding cities and sticking to small towns. Some towns so small they don't even have a Mc Donald's! So, we look for something like "Fred and Ethyl's Burger Joint".
Around here the planes are using out roads as landing strips.
Last week and this week we have had a small plane ( each week ) make a forced landing on different roads. Last weeks did not fair to well for the place or the pilot. This weeks both were OK and made the landing without a scratch.
Sorry to hear of the forced landings. They seem to have a habit of it?
Commonly, when making a forced landing on roads, the obstacles aren't very evident until it's too late. Wires across a road are pretty much invisible until you are already there. Along side of roads are bothersome things, like utility poles, msil boxes, signs, etc. And, we haven't even mentioned vehicles - or a kid on a bike.
I had thought that a field, lush with corn or hay or other greenery, would be a pillow to landing. Turns out - not so. The Duck has a fixed landing gear, meaning it sticks out there all the time, and doesn't retract. The wheels catch in tall greenery, and the plane flips upside down. A belly landing would be much better in that stuff.
AS THE RUPTURED DUCK FADES
The Duck went through its annual inspection very well. No surprise there. The buyer is buying. A couple of interesting side points - at a pilots' breakfast that I couldn't get to, sale of the Duck came up. Friends vouched for her being in very good condition. Separately, the fellow who did the annual spent time with my buyer, explaining how good its condition is. And then added, "It's a sweet airplane. If you don't buy it, I WILL!"
Now, we're wading through the paperwork. It seems that the finance company's philosophy involves "when the weight of the paperwork equals the weight of the buyer, we're nearing completion." Administrivia sucks.
It was a good run and I will miss the Duck. I have really enjoyed it. Thanks Jack.
Thanks, Bob. I enjoyed sharing some experiences here. There are much better pilots on here than me. But learning to fly at age 70, and then doing it for almost 10 years was, as you say, a good run.
I've heard - and believe - that we shouldn't arrive at the grave all sad and decrepit. But should come in skidding sideways, with a big grin on our face, and shouting, "That was one HELL of a ride!"
I'll jot notes about our biking trip experiences. I cut quite a dashing figure atop a 2-wheeler. Red and white striped blazer, white straw bowler, etal (NOT, no fancy duds). But then, you shoulda seen me on my Honda Super 90 in Nam, with our monkey - Emmet - on the gas tank, his hands firmly clasped around the windshield supports. We looked flashy both on the flightline, and riding into the officers club at Bien Hoa. (Just for the curious out there, some thought that Emmet L. Monk looked sharper than me.)
Our first squadron commander over there (416th Tactical Fighter Squadron, the Silver Knights) was Major Emmet L. Hayes. He wasn't a popular leader at all. So, we named our mascot monkey after him. Which didn't make us popular with him either. Then when, of all things, the human Emmet got a line number to be promoted to lieutenant colonel - that got us spring-loaded to a disgusted position. So, one night in the club, the Wing Commander was drinking beer with us at our table. I proposed to him that he grant our Emmet, the monkey, an immediate field promotion from our honorarily granted rank of major, to lieutenant colonel. This would give the monkey date of rank ahead of the man, meaning he would outrank the man. The Wing Commander proclaimed it so right on the spot.
When Emmet the man learned of it a few days later, he was roundly p!$$ed. Too late, we'd already won the race. Emmet L. Monk, Lt Colonel U.S.A.F. ranked him.
An administrative transfer of command ceremony occurred today. The Ruptured Duck now has a new manservant. I need to walk Greg through my checklists - greatly expanded from the original short list that Cessna published.
Tomorrow, we will inaugurate my bike as a "Ruptured Duck", and take up travels on and with it.
Too bad Keith wasn't there to pipe in the Transfer.
Now, THAT would have been nice. Island Piper!
One time, at one of the Rendezvous, I'd had a couple of beers, and dozed off in the sunshine. That cotton picker came up behind me - quietly, I might add - and let out a loud wail with that Scottish saxophone of his. HOLY COW! I went 20-30 feet straight up.
It's hard for a fella to play the bagpipe when he's laughing that hard. I miss those Rendezvous.
Keith was honored in D.C. by the Marine Corps, because he had provided bagpipe music at so many funeral services for Marines. He's an honorable guy.
I miss them too. I was fortunate enough to have been a witness to that spectacle. How it happened and what ensued was Classic Comedy. Those were the Days.
It proved to us that Jack actually could move fast , if it was for just a very short duration , but fast anyway.
Ahh yes - those were the days.
Years ago, a friend hit me between the eyes with, "Right now are the good old days." I didn't get it, and asked him to 'splain it.
"Well, we look back at incidents of a few years ago, and lament, 'those were the good old days'". Maybe a few years from now, we'll remember todsy, and say the same thing about it. So, it's better if we thoroughly enjoy todsy as today, first. And then enjoy it agsin in a few years. "
climbing down off of cracker barrel now
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