The following day, November 28th, we drove to Weston at the foot of the North Mountain Ridge. There, we helped our Annapolis Valley colleagues assemble a K8, a K6, and an open Cirrus.
It was a cloudy, blustery day. The wind was blowing 25 knots from the south, and the ceiling was under 2500 feet. Later in the day there were light showers.
My, but we were keen. We hustled around the field, getting things ready, and launched George Graham in the K8 at 1240 PM. We watched anxiously as George flew downwind. He made it to North Mountain no problem, and cavorted up and down the ridge for half an hour before coming back to give someone else a go.
While George was doing his thing on the ridge, we launched Dick Vine in his Open Cirrus. We watched as they flew together for a few minutes. As George headed back to the field, Dick flew up the ridge to the west, and we didn't see him again for over 2 hours.
The next to go was Doug Devine in the K8. While he was enjoying the vigorous ups and downs of ridge flying, we launched Stu Baker in his K6. They flew together briefly, and then Stu disappeared up the ridge to the west. We didn't see him either for a long time.
The little K8 was certainly busy that afternoon. After Doug landed, Larry Bogan and Ian McKenzie each had a 40 minute flight.
Although the day was wearing on, there was still enough daylight for me to fly the ridge. So, I decided to give it a try. The others were very supportive, including Hope Graham, who had elected not to make her ridge-flying debut today.
I remember that what followed was a most entertaining flight. As I explored the ridge, the vario needle seemed to be either in the full up position or the full down position. There was no happy medium. Boy, it was a rough half hour.
On the way back, I decided to leave a little extra height to begin the circuit. The downwind leg was so fast, I didn't dare blink for fear of missing it. I turned base at the fence. Crabbing, I increased my speed a little. It was a riveting final approach (it certainly had my full attention) with the ASI needle well into the yellow, and the breeze screaming past the canopy. Things looked good for a touch-down about one-third down the field. A few seconds before landing, things suddenly went quiet. The ASI was within 10 knots of stall, and still dropping. A few more minor adjustments, and then a gentle touch-down was made with lots of field to spare. What a flight!
What a day! However, the day wasn't finished with us yet. As we put the aircraft in the trailers, we noticed it was a little greasy under-foot. During the day, the field had thawed enough to turn the hay-stubbled surface into a slippery mire. Moving the vehicles around became more difficult, and finally, impossible. When dusk fell, every vehicle was stuck in various parts of the field.
All was not lost, thanks to Stu Baker's 4 wheel drive with deluxe interior. While Stu was busy elsewhere, we mud-wrestled his truck out of its mucky spot, with alternating grunts and spins of the tires. Just as it came free, the driver gave the wheels a final spin, sending a shower of wet mud and cow manure in through the open window. Both the driver and his deluxe environment were liberally splattered with pungent brown goop. Seeing that his face received the most vigorous treatment, we asked for a critique of the flavour. We were most disappointed to hear the taste bouquet was not up to his usual standard.
We pressed on with our mud-wrestling chores, and cleared the field about an hour later. Exhausted, we went our separate ways. Stu carried away a fair bit of top soil when he set off for home. His truck looked like a giant mud-ball on wheels.
And, it was a good thing the field belonged to an understanding land-owner, because he could have sued Stu for loss of valuable fertilizer.
I'm sure, even today while driving, Stu still gets the occasional aromatic reminder, wafting up from the depths of the deep-pile carpet in his deluxe interior - a pungent remembrance of our day on the ridge.
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