Off we go ... literally

No wind when I got home tonight, so took my little yellow plane out flying. Went to a football field across the street. A WIDE open football field. With two goal posts. Of course in all this HUGE, WIDE OPEN SPACE, I flew the plane directly into one of the goal posts. Goal posts, I learned, have a tendency to NOT move when hit by little, plastic planes. The plane moved, however, in about a thousand different directions. Glued the thousand pieces back together. And tried to get one more flight in for the night. Didn't notice that the wind had picked-up. IT FLEW!!! And it kept flying. Away. Far, far away. I lost sight of it. It's gone. I don't think this will be a case of "Lassie Come Home." It probably doesn't remember where I live. Hell I don't even remember where I live half the time.

Farewell little yellow plane. Sorry about the goal post thing. Be free.

Maiden Flight

Found a BEAUTIFUL flying field so took the Wild Hawk out for her maiden flight. Wide open field with one tree in it. I, of course, put the plane IN the one tree ... and spent 45 minutes poking it out of the tree with fishing rods taped together.

Never could get it to fly again though. It could never get enough lift to fly.

A family showed up and were watching as it repeatedly nose-dived into the ground, pieces flying everywhere. And the guy gets out of his car with his family ... with a plane ... I gave him the field ... his little plane SOARED into the heavens, circling and dipping and diving for a good 10 minutes. An INCREDIBLE flight equipped with a PERFECT damned landing.

I left with a badly bruised male ego.