OK, so I was arcing about the web reading other blogs last night and came across FlyingGma’s Blog about going to a fly-in with the top down. She and her husband started out on their motorcycle, but then changed their minds and took a Corvette convertible instead. Then she made the point, “When you drive with the top down or on the motorcycle for that matter, you smell all the smells. The good with the bad.”
It is amazing how the mind works. When I read the passage about smelling all the smells, I thought of two things from my past with regard to “all the smells.”
The first, involved an an old friend, a woman who had soloed airplanes. We were driving somewhere and passing a landfill. The road traversed from northeast to southwest and the dump was off to port (our left, south of the road). The windows were down and I made the comment, “I hope the winds are out of the northwest to keep the smell away from us.”
It was at this point, she licked her finger, stuck it out the window at 65 mph. Then with her thumb, she indicated toward the back of the car and said, “It’s blowing straight back.” I damn near fell out of the car I was laughing so hard! It took me a very long time to regain my composure and then I had to re-explain the concept of relative wind to her. I don’t believe she ever finished her private ticket.
The other memory was much more pleasant. I remember spring and summer days when the strawberries were blooming and then became ripe. The strawberries filled the fields where I flew ground reference maneuvers when I was a student pilot. And yes, all the way up to 1000 feet, you could smell the strawberries. Especially when you were flying the Cubs with the doors open.
It was such a pleasant experience – flying the old Cubs over the strawberries. They smelled so good. Of course, there was no doubt as to what I would do if I had an engine failure. I knew which field I was going to land in. And then I would sit and wait for Charlie and the gang to come rescue the airplane.
And of course while I waited, I would eat my fill of strawberries.
© 2010 J. Clark