Chapter 22

Seventeen ... and taking flying lessons ... from a real honest to god flight instructor.

40 hours later, my examiner shook my hand and said, “Fly me around.”

“Yessir. You want front or back?”

First he thought about the definition Tandem, or in tandem, is an arrangement in which a team of machines, animals or people are lined up one behind another, all facing in the same direction. Nobody has a tandem trainer ... they’re all side by side, Good lord ... she’s watching. He bethought the most famous tandem... “Umh ... what do you have?” He said, “Cub?”

I had fun watching his thought process. This guy is no poker player. “Bigger,” I said.

“Bigger?”

“I have no idea ... the military of the world has tandem trainers ... but not for basic.” he said. “T-6 ... SNJ ... Some Russian, Japanese, Indian.”

“Well ... come on.” I said. I got in my ‘34 Ford. “I’ll bring you back.”

He looked at my flight instructor.

Ben grinned and shrugged. The AD was Ben’s shock and he wasn’t going to spoil my fun. Mr. Examiner loaded up. I pulled out ... got on the radio and said,” Okay, Bud. Come on down.”

I pulled a U-turn and parked next to Ben again.

Bud greased the landing and taxied next to us. He shut down, and deplaned.

“Allow me the privilege of introducing you to my Sandy. AD1Q minus the Q meet my examiner. Mr. Examiner, please meet My warbird.”

Formalities observed, I said, “Front or back?”

“Dual controls?”

“Yup.”

“Back.”

“Got your ‘chute?”

“My parachute? Well, yes ... but...”

“She’s old, 84 and we might have to get out ... old folks get cantankerous.”

Bud grabbed his out of the front, stepped off the the wing and climbed down the fuselage side. I handed Mr. Examiner the check book and we commenced. He had paid attention when Bud dismounted and climbed up. He settled in.

My turn. I handed back the second helmet and pointed out the headphone jack. I checked his belts and climbed in. I strapped. Seated on my ‘chute, I helmeted and plugged. I spoke as I ran through the start list ... touching everything as mentioned.

Bud took my fire bottle and stood where I could see him.

Glory be. She starts.

I yacked at the tower, got permission, and we were gone. Thirty seven hundred horses straight up. We passed 5 k and still hauling. The torque is tremendous and we slowly barrel rolling on the prop. At seven k I leveled out and quit showing off.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “With nothing hanging she’s touchy.”

“Oh my God ... that was exciting.” He said, “This is yours? Not Buds?”

“Inherited from my mom ... I’ve been lusting after her since I was old enough to walk.”

“May I try?”

“Sure ... nothing too far ... she’s set up for 6 hours loiter. Full throttle ... like I just did, she’ll suck the windows out of a hangar.”

Riding with a fully integrated aerobatic flight instructor is a real treat. When he’d flown a full competition airshow I said, “Don’t hit the arming switch... 800 rounds of 20 mil.”

“Loaded?”

“Yup ... although the rounds are probably corroded and stuck.” I said, “The last time I looked the brass was green. Mom had new rounds loaded... 17 years ago. Just before she was murdered.”

“Selene Dent ... I got it now. The Austin Court House steps. You’re the pocket knife baby.”