Geese float past overhead in wedges and beg for me to come up and fly with them. I am envious. They get to see all the beautiful colors of fall float away beneath them knowing that they will soon be snug and safe in warmer climates.
Maybe I need my nose hairs to freeze during one more night by the fire. Some say a little nip of quality Bourbon by the fire as the sun goes down is good for you! Maybe the trees won’t be as red or yellow in the fall if I am not there. God forbid the trout should stop rising in the evening or the moon quit being so huge over the swamp or the stars so close on clear nights. What if the Grouse stop drumming in spring? If I’m not at the cabin and the rain bounces off the tin roof, does it make a sound?
“If the day was rainy or drizzly and too bad to fly something else, a joyous afternoon could be had by cranking up the old Champ to cruise the river for miles just enjoying the smell of the av gas and leather and dope and sweat that permeated the soul of that little airplane.”
“For years I have kept a small “tar paper shack” in the middle of nowhere up in the Superior country that is the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.” . . . “Four wheel drive is highly recommended for getting to the place and it doesn’t even have an address. You know what they say, “Necessity is a mother.””
” I have been dubbed “Ayatollah” of the Old Farts Flying Club of South Florida. We have over 300 names on the mailing list and fly somewhere for lunch every Thursday, during season. We have topped fifty planes at these informal gatherings.”
I’m not really sure what caused this but; I have that itch again. It’s that feeling that if I don’t do something about what’s bugging me now I will never be able to in the future. Must have something to do with having another birthday.
From that original core of just a half dozen bush pilots the membership has grown to over 10,000 pilots and enthusiasts, and has made a positive impact on many recreational strips around the country. The RAF must be doing something right!
As boys growing up in the rural Midwest, my brother and I were very fortunate to have been fetched up across the road from a small sod landing strip. As a result we were both bitten by the aviation bug at a young age. I have many fond memories of lying in the tall grass […]