SixPapaCharlie
May the force be with you
- Joined
- Aug 8, 2013
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Sixer
It was 20G30 and crappy out but I had to go see a guy about a plane.
Weather was marginal but I made the 9 mile flight from KDTO to 52F.
How did I pass the time? Books on tape? Crossword Puzzles?
It wasn't that bad actually. At 165kts the trip goes by quicker than you'd think.
I only filled the Gatorade bottle once. Alright you get it, it was a very short flight.
I haven't been flying much lately because of because.
I think 1/3 the gust factor so add some speed and let's do half flaps.
Somehow I cross the numbers at like a hundred knots. Lets just call it "bad piloting"
bounce bounce bounce and use all of the runway because people worked hard to make the whole thing. Don't make their work in vane (or is it vein?)
Taxi the plane onto the grass patch for transient and hop into my friend plane to go learn all about the make and model (which is not important right now)
Oh by the way if I forgot to mention it, this story is going to be lengthy.
We fly and stall and land and takeoff and just put this plane through its paces.
We wrap up and I hop into the Cirrus.
Starts right up and I give it throttle and nothing...
More power and now it is doing a doughnut and right about the 180 degree mark, the plane stops doughnuting and will not budge.
Stay with me.
Now I am sitting there full throttle and rocking my body (not like smantha fox) to try and shake it forward. As if adding another 190lbs is going to be the little bit it was missing.
Nothing.
shut down, and get the tow bar. Certainly I am stronger than a 310 HP motor.
The free castering nosewheel is completely cocked (not a penis reference MC) to the left.
I try to straighten it out but the pressure is too much and I bend the tow bar instead. It was at this point, I knew this was going to be one of those stories.
I call text Tim (@tecprotb) hoping he is at his hangar. Tim has everything in the most amazing man cave anyone could imagine.
He says no, he is resting at home having the best most restful pleasant Sunday a man could have. Just the greatest uninterrupted Sunday ever.
I say "I'm stuck in the grass at 52F"
Tim who is now my Super hero says "I'll be there in 20 minutes and we will see what we can come up with"
In the meantime, a couple guys in a truck come by and try to tie my now bent tow bar to their trailer hitch and pull but I am not liking the way it looks so I say "Let's not do this"
Tim arrives.
We go to his A&P hangar and read the manual on how to jack up a Cirrus.
We take out the tie down rings insert the jack points.
We go to Tim's hangar and get pieces of ply wood and tools and a big Jack.
We jack up the plane and slide wood under each wheel.
Tim watches from a safe distance as I start the aircraft.
I gun it and the plane moves maybe half a foot and will move no more.
Tim is yelling something at me.
I shut down and open my door and he says "You are just dragging the wood"
Then he asks a game the changing question, "Is your parking brake on man?"
Yes.
Yes it was.
I released the parking brake and like a Christmas miracle, the plane effortlessly rolled along like a dear in the meadow at the dawn of a new spring, chasing butterflies.
I flew home looking down at all the cars below me and thinking "There... Down there is where I belong. Not here in a complicated flying machine." I should be allowed to travel in things like slow cars or maybe even just shoes. This plane stuff is more geared toward brilliant minds that can do complex things like reading and knowing what levers do.
Oh well..
If I recall at Osh Tim was quite fond of the leinenkugel, summer shandy.
I will see to it that a case of this ends up in Tim's man cave in the very near future.
Thank you Tim!
Weather was marginal but I made the 9 mile flight from KDTO to 52F.
How did I pass the time? Books on tape? Crossword Puzzles?
It wasn't that bad actually. At 165kts the trip goes by quicker than you'd think.
I only filled the Gatorade bottle once. Alright you get it, it was a very short flight.
I haven't been flying much lately because of because.
I think 1/3 the gust factor so add some speed and let's do half flaps.
Somehow I cross the numbers at like a hundred knots. Lets just call it "bad piloting"
bounce bounce bounce and use all of the runway because people worked hard to make the whole thing. Don't make their work in vane (or is it vein?)
Taxi the plane onto the grass patch for transient and hop into my friend plane to go learn all about the make and model (which is not important right now)
Oh by the way if I forgot to mention it, this story is going to be lengthy.
We fly and stall and land and takeoff and just put this plane through its paces.
We wrap up and I hop into the Cirrus.
Starts right up and I give it throttle and nothing...
More power and now it is doing a doughnut and right about the 180 degree mark, the plane stops doughnuting and will not budge.
Stay with me.
Now I am sitting there full throttle and rocking my body (not like smantha fox) to try and shake it forward. As if adding another 190lbs is going to be the little bit it was missing.
Nothing.
shut down, and get the tow bar. Certainly I am stronger than a 310 HP motor.
The free castering nosewheel is completely cocked (not a penis reference MC) to the left.
I try to straighten it out but the pressure is too much and I bend the tow bar instead. It was at this point, I knew this was going to be one of those stories.
I call text Tim (@tecprotb) hoping he is at his hangar. Tim has everything in the most amazing man cave anyone could imagine.
He says no, he is resting at home having the best most restful pleasant Sunday a man could have. Just the greatest uninterrupted Sunday ever.
I say "I'm stuck in the grass at 52F"
Tim who is now my Super hero says "I'll be there in 20 minutes and we will see what we can come up with"
In the meantime, a couple guys in a truck come by and try to tie my now bent tow bar to their trailer hitch and pull but I am not liking the way it looks so I say "Let's not do this"
Tim arrives.
We go to his A&P hangar and read the manual on how to jack up a Cirrus.
We take out the tie down rings insert the jack points.
We go to Tim's hangar and get pieces of ply wood and tools and a big Jack.
We jack up the plane and slide wood under each wheel.
Tim watches from a safe distance as I start the aircraft.
I gun it and the plane moves maybe half a foot and will move no more.
Tim is yelling something at me.
I shut down and open my door and he says "You are just dragging the wood"
Then he asks a game the changing question, "Is your parking brake on man?"
Yes.
Yes it was.
I released the parking brake and like a Christmas miracle, the plane effortlessly rolled along like a dear in the meadow at the dawn of a new spring, chasing butterflies.
I flew home looking down at all the cars below me and thinking "There... Down there is where I belong. Not here in a complicated flying machine." I should be allowed to travel in things like slow cars or maybe even just shoes. This plane stuff is more geared toward brilliant minds that can do complex things like reading and knowing what levers do.
Oh well..
If I recall at Osh Tim was quite fond of the leinenkugel, summer shandy.
I will see to it that a case of this ends up in Tim's man cave in the very near future.
Thank you Tim!
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