Monday, March 12, 2018

Achieving temporary immortality

At last !  I am a pilot of distinction !  Having survived brushes with imminent demise, screwed up thises and thats, a couple of embarrassments (ok, more than a couple) and a few more unmentionables, I can now claim to be THE HIGHEST-TIME LIVING, ACTIVE CALLAIR S1 PILOT IN THE WORLD!  
Lest you think this is some trifle in the annals of aviation, please allow me to explain: I am the ONLY living, active CallAir S1 pilot in the world. The few became the fewest and, thankfully, I'm it. It's a status that is, if you pardon my allusion, perishable, as long as I can avoid being the "perishee".

It also happens to be that time of the year when the annual inspection is due. Many of my fellow aviators opine that airplanes are worn out more by unscrewing things and screwing them back in than by flying. The hours-flown total for the last year is quite low, partially because minor re-do items had to be re-done after the restoration, a little bit owing to weather and mostly because I do more talking than flying these days. Now that some of the kinks are being worked out I hope to do more flying this year.


The first grand plan is to wend my way South to the annual Sun-n-Fun Fly-in at Lakeland FL next month. I tried this last year and didn't make it because the airplane wasn't out of the shop. This year, the fly-in comes first and the shop second. I hope it works out.

Dave in South Carolina made up a custom aerosol can of paint for my rudder/brake pedals and I hope to have them reinstalled when the weather turns warmer later this week. 

No flying today. The wind is howling outside and the temps took a dive this morning - today just happens to be the 25th anniversary of the "Blizzard of '93" in the North Carolina mountains, a date that will live forever around here. I must sound like a really old fogey when I spin that yarn to my grandchildren but I don't care - I used to listen to the old timers when I was that age and still remember some of their tales. The older I get, the more I appreciate them and wish I could turn back the clock. If I could, I'd make more of an effort to listen and remember.





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