PPG Music Drop
July 2, added July 5, 2007 Naperville, ILSung to the tune of Kenny Rogers "The Gambler:"
On a warm summers evening, on sprawling grass in nowhere,
I met up with a friend, we would soon join in the air.
The stillness was arriving, and rays left of sunshine,
I readied my machine, the sky would would soon be mine.
You got to know when to hold em, know when to pull 'em,
Know when you need to run, and when to brake just right.
You never lift your feet, when your wing still is soft,
Lifting is for those, fast enough to get aloft.
OK, enough of that for now.
It was my favorite condition: warm and nearly still even thought
enough breeze for a light-wind reverse. After my first launch I
discovered my newly enhanced throttle was uncomfortable so I shut down
and came around to land. Oooh that felt good, a nice long slider next to
Tim. Undoing my fix (and additional throttle spring) was easy and I
relaunched. Tim joined me soon after with a perfect little forward.
Off to the dwindling open areas west of Naperville. A few times we
had to be pretty creative on routes to comply with FAR 103 but it's
still possible. For now. Sometimes I follow right-of-ways but still stay
400-500 feet high to avoid any appearance of danger to the nervous
groundlings. If they can only barely hear you, they won't consider it
annoying. In fact, they pretty universally think it's cool since we
don't buzz around the same place.
Part of the fun is heading out in no particular direction. Just
finding something that looks interesting and going in for a closer look.
There are a lot of abandon farmhouses where the owners have long traded
their farmland for a developers megabucks. Can't say as I blame them.
After all, now they can go out another 100 miles and buy farmland but
don't really have to farm anymore if they don't want.
Calm, smooth and warm with command of a 3D world—it's almost
spiritual. While swooping among the sod farms and alternatively taking
pictures, though, my MP3 player fell out. I just thought it was a long
break between songs but no, the whole thing was gone. Bummer. Searching
was fruitless, Don McLean could understand—even going back to the place
where the music died didn't help. So we headed out for our romp. On the
way back, I gave another look, hoping for a favorable glint off the
setting sun. It worked! I found it. Then I lost it. Then I found it and
this time started a tight circle around it, coming in lower until I was
foot dragging. Then I just let off the power, walked over, picked it up
and relaunched. Man was that satisfying.