Confusing wildlife at all altitudes

And now the exciting conclusion...

Sadly it didn't look like it was going to happen, so we decided to watch a few more take off and land before we headed to the lake when the most perfect thing happened. A plastic surgeon named Rich asked "So are you members?" I told him we were working on it and then he asked if we wanted to go up. Sweet! Since he was taking off in about 5 minutes I would have to help him prep the plane. As it turned out, preping the plane involved hooking it to a golf cart and bthe wings as it got pulled down the runway. Then I strapped myself in and waited for the tow plane to land and connect up with us. We would be flying in a G-103, I rejected this name and rechristened it the X-103, which sounded much more badass. In fact, here's a picture.

See? It really does deserve the extreme title. Once the tow plane was ready the tow line was hooked to the front of the plane. Now I will say at this point that calling it a "tow line" is a pretty grandiose term for what pretty much amounted to one of those yellow, nylon ropes you buy at Wal-Mart for $7.00. The kind you hang a tire swing in a tree with and wonder how many weeks before the line snaps. That rope. It was a little disconcerting to be pulled along the runway and up into the air with it. But, as it turned out, I would be continually redefining my concept of disconcerting on this trip.

On the (extremely bumpy) way up I began to question the judgement that led me to get into a plane with no engine and only hot air and wishes to keep it airborne. Especially at 3000 feet when the tow line was released and we dropped a good 30 feet in the space of a second. We leveled out, I made some idle chatter with him and he was told me about the plane. He mentioned a "little clock thing" on the instrument panel when I hit him with "You mean the Altimeter or the Variometer?" He paused a second and said something like "Oh so you know about planes, good". I silently thanked Microsoft Flight Simulator 1992 for my unconsious knowledge of planes. I got in another good exchange when I asked him about my "brown patches of ground give you bettter thermals" theory. It was at that point that the impossible happened: he asked if I wanted to fly the plane. Going out of my way to seem knowledgeable was one thing, but risking my life... then I decided how often do I get to die by glider? Not often enough. And it was settled.

I took the stick and managed to be a pretty good pilot, I even found a thermal that took me up a few hundred feet. These video games really know their crap. Eventually I also had to thank the county fair Rock-o Planes for their strengthening effect on my stomache, otherwise I might have vomited when I got a little too tight in the turns. But overall it was really good. I have to say the most memorable thing might have been looking out to my left and seeing a hawk look over at me like "What the hell?!" Amazing what those hawks can express with their eyes. All in all a really great experience that I have now rambled on about for eight paragraphs. Sailing was good too. I plan on going again and even getting my license, I think that'll make for some good stories of me swooping past the tin shack "control tower" and some old man shaking his fist and screaming "Maaaveriiiic!" That's it for now kids. I promise a shorter post tomorrow.

- Scott

P.S. Old fighter pilots do not find it funny to scream "Bogey on our six!" when in the air. Just so you know.