In The Presence of Greatness
Today started out like most any other Sunday. I fell out of bed after first staring accusingly at the alarm clock to make sure it hadn't malfunctioned, and then calling Gaithersburg's weather line with the slightly hopeful thought that the clouds outside my window were lower than they appeared and I could roll over and go back to sleep. It's not that I didn't want to go flying, but it was 7:45 on a Sunday. Gaithersburg reported decent weather, however, and the internet and FAA briefer confirmed our route of flight looked clear.
As Gillian and I headed out to the airport, I couldn't help but think how cool it was that only last summer I had embarked on a 3+ hour drive to visit Juan and Carlos (my Godson), and now I was planning on a 50 minute flight to New Garden, Pennsylvania.
Gillian and I arrived at the airport only slightly behind schedule (but with iced coffees in hand) to find Romeo pre-flighted and ready to go. (Thanks, Rich!)
Rich and I marvelled that the grass strip intersecting the runway at a right angle in the left of the frame is an official landing strip. Sizing it up, I knew I wouldn't want to have to land even a Cessna 152 on it in good winds. We later learned, however, that there is at least one pilot at New Garden that can probably do it with grass to spare.
Rich noted that there had been a few Cub pilots at one of the hangers near the airfield who might be able to assist. Sensing a woman's touch was in order, I volunteered to solicit their help. The first truck I flagged down contained two pilots, eager to help until they learned we were talking about a metal propeller instead of a wood one. They suggested I continue down to the hanger where "Roger" might be willing to assist me. I came upon Roger near his yellow cub and, after we agreed that "aviation needs more women pilots," he offered to come see what could be done about getting our plane started.
After several unsuccessful attempts, Roger declared that our propeller was not "keyed right" and set off to get some tools.
(Ever heard the joke about the pilot that wrote on the squawk sheet that the engine sounded like there was a midget banging on it with a hammer, to which the plane's mechanic responded, "hammer taken away from midget"?)
Right. So, Roger returned with a hammer and proceeded to bang on something.
And then the engine started.
What luck! With promises of free beer should they ever seek us out at Gaithersburg, we were just about to pull away when one of the pilots called through my window, "That was Roger Lenhert!"
"Oh!" I replied, "Okay!!"
Rich and I exchanged quizzical looks before heading to the taxiway for our run-up and an uneventful flight home.
Once back at Gaithersburg, we were curious enough about the pilot's remark to go into the airport and Google "Roger New Garden." Much to our amazement, we learned that we had been in the presence of greatness ...
The Flying Farmer had hand-propped our plane! Gillian reminded me that Roger had touched my shoulder before we left, and suggested that I never wash it again. Although I wouldn't go quite that far, I do plan to go back some day with a case of beer and see if he'll take me for a little spin in his cub.
That's right, Mum. Just like in this video.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Tj-CYjE-RWY
Maybe Rich can bring his truck and we can see if Roger can still land on a dime too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jtchxf0Cw2g
2 Comments:
What a cool flying day! I always said that you find the nicest people at small airports....
Another amazing adventure! I can't wait till it's my turn to sit in the back seat! Your story and the great visuals are a super trip in themselves, and how wonderful to see Carlos and Juan! Love, Mum
PS: If you do go joy riding with Roger (amazing piot for sure!!), please tell me after you come home!
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