It’s 91 miles to Chicago, we’ve got a full tank of gas, it’s (not) dark,
and we’re wearing sunglasses.
Hit it!
We should be at Osh in just a few hours.
Category: Flying
Plan B
It wasn’t possible to get the plane fixed without either paying ridiculous
shipping costs (4 overnight shipments from 4 different locations) or
cutting corners (re-using washers and bolts and gaskets). So here we are,
*driving* to Oshkosh.
Sigh.
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck
Went to preflight the plane. Grabbed the exhaust stack and gave it a wiggle. IT MOVED! The damn muffler is broken.
Nobody on the field works on the weekend, nobody stocks parts. Even if we get it overnighted, it will be monday evening before it’s installed at the earliest.
Fuck!
Sigh
I’m sitting in Rochester airport, half an hour after I’d planned to depart, waiting for a band of heavy rain to pass through. It hasn’t moved much, but it has gone from an angry red to a less-nasty yellow on the nexrad radar picture. Hopefully it will dissapate or at least stop showing lightning on the stormscope soon.
testing email
Text from my cell phone.