StatCounter

July 2018




I give up

I have come to realise that as long as I am married to this woman, she will NEVER run out of 'great ideas' for things for me to do. It's endless. The more I do, the more she thinks I can do and the vicious circle starts all over again.

Think I am kidding? Here is her latest idea as to what she thinks the island needs.




Play time!

OK, all work and no play makes us grumpy. One of the things that makes moving around from one place to another so interesting are the different local events that occur in one place but not the other. Here, for instance, we have the yearly poker runs on the river...





... followed by pirate days...




...not to be undone by the yearly duck race. This event is a fundraiser for local charities where you 'buy' a duck. Nearly 2000 of them are released just outside of the town dam and the first one to reach the finish line gets a prize.





Finally, after a long day of play on the river, we recover at our local pub where on 'wing' night the beer flows freely,  and the (chicken) wings and onion rings are fabulous. The village of Rockport jokes that it is a "Sleepy little drinking village, with a fishing problem"






We also managed to squeeze in  a show by the 'Circle de Soleil' We have been wanting to see one of their performances for 20 years and somehow were always too far away. It absolutely lived up to its reputation as a stunning cross between impossible and breathtaking feats of gymnastics and artistry.

Ahhhh, but I saved the best for last. Janice and I had planned to go on an adventure on Mr.Toad's wild river rafting ride. Unfortunately, 2 days before the appointed date, Janice stubbed a toe and went to the hospital for X-rays, so she was obviously out. Fortunately, my friend Geoff agreed to step in for her when I promised the experience would make a man out of him.

I mean really! Who, in their right mind, would pass on a chance to get beat up on a 4 1/2 hour excursion on a class III/ IV river for the ride of your life?



Why, there were even times when our heads were above water! Unfortunately, Geoff was momentarily unavailable while this picture was taken. 


Geoff, with his head above water, relaxing with us afterwards because he did not cry, not even once.

From the flight deck

It has been suggested that this should be my next paint scheme for my airplane

Anytime I tell someone that I fly my own plane, the first thing they do is to tell me about a crash - some ghoulish tale filled with lip smacking gore. Their implication is that flying is about as safe as taking two sticks of dynamite with a glass of water to cure a hangover.

The attraction is inexplicable but all consuming. I remember taking a long hard mental pause when I had a few friends who had serious accidents. Like the rest of the pilots I knew, I was saddened to hear of their mishaps but deep in my gut I knew that it would never stop me. I explain (what you would call rationalize) that everything we do carries risks. Motorcycle riders know (or should know) that statically, they are 26 times more likely to die in an accident that someone who drives a car. Still, they ride.


On the other hand, I know that the greatest risk I take is the drive TO the airport. Aside from the incident you know about where I got my plane wet, I have had a few other experiences that I will never share here because... well, Janice reads this too, you know. Flying is one of the very few areas of my life where I allow myself to be detached from any argument to the contrary. Who knows, others may be right and I may be wrong. I don’t care, I am still going to fly.

I am careful and serious but I don’t confuse confidence with hubris. Flying is so much fun, I can’t get enough of it. The air up there feels so thick I could cut it with a knife and spread it on bread.


Sometimes the only way to believe in forever, is to see it firsthand.



My run up to a takeoff


UP...

...UP


...and AWAY to go dancing with the angels!!!