The young un went swanning off round our old airfields on his motorbike not so long ago and came back after just a thousand miles in three days complaining that every bit hurts. Huh! They don’t make ’em like they used to.
I remember between wars if we wanted to fly we went cropdusting. Basic light planes doing basic jobs – flying off grass strips and trying not to get tangled up in overhead wires.
Yeh – I know – I’m getting on my soapbox but in some of those crates we flew that’s about all we had to sit on. Fal-de-rals were kept to a minimum to get another few pounds of DDT in the hoppers.
Get her up there with everything straining – open the chute – and spin her out —
Powder or liquid – there wasn’t much difference if you were a bug —
When you see some of these kites you wonder how they were able to carry much more than the Camel bag I use for my spare Wranglers —
but carry it they did – and if ‘more’ was needed for the big farms you could always try to get your mitts on one of these fellas from the Ruskies —
You couldn’t go far wrong with the little Thrush —
and I can always count myself lucky I didn’t have to work up one of those jet engine thingy’s —
One thing for sure – the roller skate that came with it was never gonna catch on out west —
This un looks like fashion over function – nowhere to hide when you fly this custard pie —
Power to spare and a prop to match – built to the KISS formula – keep it simple stupid – rings my bell every time —
Would sure like to set my butt in one of them guys tho’ —
Way to go 🙂
Armchair Pilot Goes Cropdusting