Flying at Medicine Lodge

Sam and I took four planes to fly an unusual north wind. We drove to Medicine Lodge Creek, by Grandma and Grandpa's. We flew his JW, my heavy goose-necked JW, the Zagi, and my little Spork. No photos of the last two.

Sam getting ready to try again. It takes some skill to throw a plane.

Not pretty, but it made it.

Wow, look at that matching shirt. Sam had a good time getting to know his plane. He made some mistakes, got the plane behind the lip of the hill and had to land, and got it flying again. It is a very fun and robust plane.

The JW Goose in the air.

I wear the pants.

Launching the Goose again.

Too low. A little too low.

It made it in the air, but I never got it back up to altitude. I had to land it on the hill (it hit rocks, can you tell?) and hike down to get it. The shame. But it survived.

Sam Maidens His JW

After working on his plane for ever, I "helped" him finish it. He hadn't flown since he was 15, so he let me trim it out, but he flew like a pro after that.

It wasn't very breezy, but we risked chucking it at our little local hill. I flew the first flight, and got it too slow, and stalled it. Best to just let it run fast, even in light lift. The second flight was successful, and after trimming it out, I handed it to Sam.

Ah, idaho.

After about 15 minutes the lift died, so he landed it. Just barely squeezed over the lip of the hill.

Not a long flight, be enough to see that it really scoots along if you let it.

Now we need some wind.

Skip Johnson

Adam's new nickname is Skip. He likes hopping along better than crutching. Some photos.

Chores.

Blow up these two, and click between them. He's flying.

Hopalong?

More XC

Sammy's second season of cross country didn't start off so swell. At 22:30, he was somewhat off the leaders. But it was hot, and straight, and flat, and there was no shade.

Nerves before the race?

Talking strategy. Actually, there are some trees back there. The road along these trees was the far stretch in the 5k course.

Ok, I was somewhat surprised by the start, so didn't get a good photo of Sam off the blocks. But he is there. Circled in blue.

Other dads were saying things like "Ok Hunter Fischer Aiden Braiden Kaiden, you're at 12:15, so 8 seconds ahead of pace. Time to kick it in!" As Sam went by, I said "go faasta."

Ugh. One more mile.

Sam chasing some Rigby boy.

Everyone was cheering him on, except me. I was busy.

One last push before the finish line..

A shot calculated to please Emily.

Sam and his Natty. She says "Jeeze you're all sweaty."