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Capt. Lambert in Biplanes


Windswept

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Diary Entry #106: Juneau, (PAJN), to Ketchikan, (PAKT)

 

Early morning at Juneau airport. Lambert was pacing up & down outside Babushka.

Manwell had gone to get croissants for breakfast & appeared to have got lost.

" 2 days to get to San Francisco!" he bellowed at Roger, "2 days!!" "Night flying, that's all there is to it!!"

Roger was not thrilled at the prospect. Just as he was about to demure, Manwell came roaring back on Boris.

"He fast Mr Lambert!", Manwell enthused.

"B-gger that, where have you been?"

"I had trouble finding croissants. I get donuts instead!"

Lambert controlled his fury & hustled them aboard, started up Babushka & watched the gauges like a hawk before declaring all was well for take off.

"We will be taking a circuitous route gentlemen, following sea lanes, dodging mountains", Lambert announced.

They wended their way to Ketchikan without incident & Lambert informed them they needed to be ready for an early start to Vancouver in the morning.

"Haste is of the essence. Drink carrot juice, you'll need it!"

 

Meanwhile, at Sloterberry Farm, Jane, Emily & George were having a cup of tea in the kitchen, when in walked Harold & Lucy.

Jane gasped  & dropped her bone china tea cup on the floor, where it shattered into a thousand shards.

Just like her heart had shattered when she saw Harold darken her door with Lucy. 

 

& out on the motorways Augustine was calling up base, "Code M22, Black Range Rover, I'm going to head off down country lanes.

Shoot its tires out or ram it, ok?!"

& she took the next off ramp & headed South East.

At pace.

Mildred was crouched in her seat daring not to look.

Belted in as tight as she could be.

"No belt for me!", Augustine had called to her at 150 mph on the motorway, "Might need to bail out!"

 

Lambert in a hurry to leave Juneau

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Swinging West to miss mountains. Into the sun again

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Left seat view on the way to Ketchikan

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Lining up for Ketchikan airport

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Landing. Taxi ways are below runway level, on the left. Everyone had noticed how much greener the scenery was becoming as they made it further South

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To be continued

 

Windswept

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Diary Entry #107: Ketchikan, (PAKT), to Vancouver, (CYVR)

 

It was breakfast in Ketchikan.

Lambert was chewing his corn beef hash while briefing the crew.

"Long journey today chaps. More than 700 miles. We'll be filling the ancillary tank & using it no doubt "

Roger looked up from his bacon & eggs, paused & frowned, but did not speak.

He glanced at Manwell. who was engrossed in his steak & chips & never noticed Roger.

"Conditions will include patchy cloud, possibly some rain. We will be following sea lanes & skirting around mountains.

Anyone read 'Passage to Juneau' by Jonathan Raban?"

There was silence.

"Thought not. Well, he sailed the Inner Passage from Seattle to Juneau in a 35-foot sailboat.

We're covering much of his territory in the lower portion of his journey. If he could do it in a flimsy sail boat, then we can do it in a crate built like a brick sh-t house!", Lambert declared emphatically.

He was met with muted enthusiasm. Roger & Manwell hated the long legs. They struggled to stay asleep.

 

An hour later they were airborne & threading their way out of Ketchikan & the surrounding hills  to more open space. Lambert had control & would relinquish it later to Manwell, who flew the final hours.

They took turns sleeping & nothing out of the ordinary occurred.

Safely at Vancouver, Lambert headed off to find Pinky Bars to assuage his sweet tooth. Failing that, he would settle for Mars bars.

 

Meanwhile, back at Sloterberry Farm, Jane, Emily, George, Harold & Lucy were staring at each other.

Jane finally cleared her throat, "Harold, Lucy, this is my sister Emily & her live in lover George. George is a disbarred Vet!"

Emily protested Georges descriptor, but Jane ignored her as she was just getting warmed up.

"Emily, George, this is Harold, he is a Brain Surgeon. The woman with him is Lucy, I think she is his friend with benefit nurse.

There's something going on there that is unseemly & professionally improper, if you ask me!", Jane pronounced churlishly.

"Hang on!", Harold protested, "what are you suggesting!!"

"You know dam well what I am suggesting!", Jane screeched, "Now I want my notebook back, thank you!"

& she glared at Lucy so hard that George had to turn away.

 

Meanwhile, out on a country lane just North of Sloterberry Farm, Augustine had the Cobra running between 70 & 80 mph.

"Can you see them?", she called to Mildred over the roar of the engine & screech of tires.

Mildred looked back, "No, no, I think they have gone! You can slow down!", Mildred implored her.

"Ha!!", Augustine laughed as she threw the Cobra into a fast right hander.

Straight into Jane's cows morning excrement.

Cobra tires lose grip quickly in cow poo & before they knew what was happening the Cobra spun backwards through the box-thorn hedge surrounding Sloterberry Farm, then hit a low concrete wall in the front of Jane's garden

Mildred felt the seat belts cut into her shoulders & she gasped. It was a full racing harness, something she would later be grateful for.

Augustine was not so lucky.

Not being strapped in & minus her wig, which the box thorn hedge had neatly removed, she sailed backwards out of the driver's seat & landed head first on top of a Garden Gnome.

With a sickening thud & shriek.

There was a stunned silence inside the cottage.

Then they all raced out to view the carnage.

Harold quickly assessed Augustine's skull.

"Compression fracture!", he cried out. 'Needs immediate surgery. Get her on to the kitchen table . Boil water. get any medicine kit stuff you have!.

Jane rushed in & cleared the kitchen table in a jiffy & threw a sheet over it.

Harold & George laid Augustine out on the table. Harold rolled her on her side & propped a pillow behind her back while Lucy held a tea towel over the seeping wound.

Mildred stared at Harold. Something about him bothered her.

She turned away & turned back to find him staring at the back of her head from close range. "I say, do you mind turning around again?", he asked.

Shocked Mildred obliged. Harold whipped out a small magnifying glass & peered at the back of Mildred's left ear lobe.

"Thought so!", Harold muttered.

"What?", Mildred demanded, turning around & seeing Harold had gone white as a sheet.

He then went over to Augustine & peered at the back of her left ear lobe.

'Oh my g-d!", he cried.

"What is it!", Lucy & Jane demanded together.

"Lucy!", I can't operate!", Harold advised her, his voice quivering.

"What, why?", Mildred  demanded.

Harold sat down & gripped the edge of the table.

Finally he threw his head back & roared. "Because this is my Mother & you are my sister!!".

There was a stunned stunned silence.

Even the dairy cows, who were watching through the kitchen window were later to comment how quiet it went.

"How do you know!!", Mildred demanded.

She had heard rumors of a love child, but Augustine had always dismissed it as Fake News.

"Lucy, look behind the left ear lobes of myself, this lady here!", & he waved at Mildred, "& the person on the table"

Lucy did as she was bid.

"Holy sh-t " she exclaimed after checking all three of them.

"What is it??", Jane asked

"They all have a small heart shaped birth mark behind their left ear lobe", Lucy announced, her voice trembling as she slipped the Notebook to Jane, hoping the family discovery would divert her.

"Right!", George announced, "Now you have all met, we need to something for the elderly lady on the table!"

"We need suction to lift the skull back off the brain!", Harold explained.

Jane suddenly spoke up.

"Carry the table to the milking shed & we'll put the milking cups on her head!"

"Brilliant!", George agreed & he & Lucy carried the table out.

George & Mildred sat on a settee & stared at each other.

Both were in  tears.

But out in the milking shed, it was touch and go for Augustine.

& 10 miles up the road a black Range Rover limped along on shot out tires as a black helicopter hovered overhead.

 

Heading out of Ketchikan for Vancouver

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Steering away from mountains, following passes, & staying under 10,000'

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Some rugged territory between Ketchikan & Vancouver

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On approach into Vancouver International

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Left seat view of Vancouver, (CYVR), in the distance

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On the ground at Vancouver International

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Diary Entry #108: Vancouver, (CYVR), to Eugene, (KEUG)

 

Lambert, having consumed 3 Mars bars in a row, had had a sleepless night.

Yet he had the crew up at 4 am & ordered double espresso shots all around in the Vancouver aero club kitchen.

With Manwell looking like an owl & Roger sleeping with his eyes open, Lambert explained his strategy for getting to San Francisco by the 5th of December. One day away.

"Right chaps, here is what we are going to do.

We're going to leave shortly to fly to Mahlon Sweet airport in Eugene, Oregon. Dodge around some mountains on the way, but generally a straight run South, Inland.

We should be there by midday. We will sleep in the afternoon", he was interrupted by Roger emitting a loud "Ha!!", which threw him off his speech.

Frowning, Lambert continued. "Then at 7 pm tonight we will head to San Francisco from Eugene. I have rooms at the Fairmont Hotel!"

Roger yawned, Manwell nodded vigorously &  then Roger seemed to catch on. "Hang on Monsieur, we are flying in the dark?"

"Yes!", Lambert agreed.

"But who will fly the plane at night?"

'You will, you have the best night vision!"

Roger Rabbit fell silent. Stunned by this news.

"Don't worry old chap, it will be a full moon when we fly from Eugene to San Francisco, & all you have to do is follow the roads & railway lines!", Lambert offered encouragingly. 

 

So it came to pass that they left Vancouver before dawn. Roger was in the left seat, up on a cushion, & grateful when dawn then daylight arrived, at which point Manwell took over

They didn't get lost  & as promised, after arriving in Eugene, Lambert whisked them off to a Motel by lunchtime, to eat rest & sleep.

As they lunched, Roger cleared his throat.

"Monsieur, just before we left Vancouver, you took a phone call?"

'Yes!", Lambert replied abruptly.

"May I inquire Monsieur as to the nature of the call?"

Lambert paused from chewing his broccoli omelet.

"Nothing really. It was my wife. Apparently she has a brother she didn't know about. Brain Surgeon!", & Lambert shrugged his shoulders & went on eating.

"Oh, that could be useful!", Roger replied.

Causing  Manwell & Lambert  to stop eating & stare at him.

"Why?", Lambert finally asked.

"In case the little grey cells need a tune up, n'est pas?", Roger replied.

Lambert shrugged again. "Apparently he won't operate on family. Her Mother's at death's door & he's not touching her with a forty foot barge pole!"

"Shocking monsieur, shocking!", Roger exclaimed.

"Si!!", Manwell added.

Lambert shrugged again. "Doesn't bother me!"

 

 

 Pre- dawn departure from Vancouver

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The lights of Vancouver from the left seat

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Headed South into the dawn

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One of the PNW volcanoes poking above cloud. Babushka was at 9,600'

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Mid morning, & a tapestry of green & brown on the way into Eugene, (KEUG) They made good time

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On the ground at Mahlon Sweet airport, Eugene, OR

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To be continued

 

Windswept

 

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Diary Entry #109: Night flight to San Francisco

 

True to his word, when they arrived in Eugene late morning, Lambert whisked them off to an Airport Motel.

Ostensibly to sleep the afternoon & leave for San Francisco.

Manwell slept, snoring loudly the whole time.

Lambert played cribbage.

Roger stared at the ceiling.

When it was time to ready Babushka at the airport, he took 5 double espresso slugs in  a row, then, with eyes out on stalks, pronounced himself ready.

 

Lambert was a bit concerned that Roger was hyper, but figured alertness was better than having him fall asleep in the left seat.

After rigging cushions & push rods so that Roger could actually fly Babushka, they were off.

 

After a shaky start, Roger soon found highways leading South & tracked them.

He was aided by a full moon that cast an eery white light across snow covered portions of the landscape..

They arrived over San Francisco International to find it lit up like a Xmas tree, took their place in the queue & made it down safely.

"Well done chaps, made it by the 5th of December. We will get some maintenance done on Babushka then I must sort out our route to New York. 7 days for that!", Lambert explained

Manwell nodded & Roger slumped in the left sleep. The caffeine had worn off.

 

Meanwhile, the melee continued at Sloterberry Farm. Augustine still lay on the kitchen table in the cow shed whilst all around her were milling people were milling around.

Unsure what to do.

Suddenly there was a screech of brakes in the driveway & a red MG Midget slid to a halt in the gravel.

Out stepped Robert & Lucille.

"Thank god you are here!", Lucy exclaimed, running over to greet them.

"Harold's mother is on the operating table in the milking shed & he won't touch her. Medical ethics he said!"

Robert frowned. "Since when have ethics bothered Harold?", he murmured. "Lucille, get me bags 1 & 2 & the FOK please"

By then Jane had arrived. "No, not the joss sticks. The cows will inhale the smoke, it'll get in the milk, then the cheese, & I'll be disqualified!!"

"Light them downwind!", Robert instructed Lucy as he began rummaging in Bag #1.

"Where is Harold?", he asked Jane.

"Kitchen with his new Sister. She's a bit hysterical!"

Robert pulled another hypodermic & ampule from his bag & headed for the kitchen.

He quietly approached Harold from behind & with skill & precision stuck a needle in his neck & gave him an Upper shot.

As Mildred, who had seen it all, gasped, he gave her a sedative.

Outside Jane pulled Lucille aside, "What's the FOK?", she asked 

"Field Operating Kit. These 2 have worked in the middle of Afghanistan., they know what they are doing!"

At that moment Harold emerged from the kitchen tearing his shirt off. 'Get the cups on me, I want to test the pressure!"

Hesitantly Jane got the milking machine going & pressed the four cups on to Harold's back, 1 at a time. She could not help but admire its manliness.

Harold grunted & said to Robert, "Two should do it!"

At that moment there was a noise behind them  & they all turned to see Augustine, her hand raised feebly in the air, calling for room service.

'Good sign!", Harold enthused, still has motor skills. Right, lets go!"

'Hang on!", Robert protested, "I haven't got all the cameras set up yet!"

 

 

 

The MG Midget that has just arrived at Sloterberry Farm. 

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Roger takes Babushka out of Eugene, (KEUG) for the night flight to (KSFO)

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Eugene city lights

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Moon light flying, headed South

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Following the yellow lit road

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Over KFSO

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About to touch down to just complete the leg in time

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20 hours ago, Windswept said:

Augustine still lay on the kitchen table in the cow shed

The kitchen table in a cow shed?????

I suppose that;s one way to mask bad cooking!

 

Dave Britzius

(Cape Town)

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17 hours ago, Heinz Flichtbeil said:

Hello Windswept,

oh... now I am away from KSFO to Salt Lake City.....

So we don't meet ....

May be in Medicine Bow :)

Greets Heinz

Hello Heinz

I'm off to Boise, Idaho today. Forecast not too bad. May be able to dodge snow.

Perhaps New York :D

Windswept

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3 hours ago, DaveLTB said:

The kitchen table in a cow shed?????

I suppose that;s one way to mask bad cooking!

 

Dave Britzius

(Cape Town)

Dave

It's a makeshift operating table!:D

Windswept

 

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Diary Entry #110: San Fancisco, (KSFO), to Boise, Idaho (KBOI)

 

In San Francisco, while Babushka was checked over, Lambert went looking for Chinatown. He had a hankering for Peking Duck. Roger & Manwell rode the trams & went to Fisherman's Wharf.

They were only allowed 1 day off as Lambert wanted to keep moving.

"Tight schedule gents. 7 days to get across America!

I have plotted a course to avoid mountains. 1st leg is long, 530 miles heading North East  to Boise, Idaho.

We leave early tomorrow morning. Then its Casper Wyoming, Sioux Falls South Dakota, Aurora Illinois, Akron in Ohio & finally, New York!" Lambert beamed.

Manwell shifted from foot to foot & Roger yawned. "Monsieur, we are not flying this beast at night again are we?", he asked.

Lambert looked a bit shifty. "Not as far as I know!", he replied.

What was unsaid was that if they fell behind he would fly 24/7, in shifts if necessary, to catch up!

 

They headed out of San Francisco the next morning under clear cold skies.

Lambert was feeling particularly pleased because it looked like they would get to Boise without running into the snow storms that had been around that inland North West area very recently.

His path took them across the North West corner of Nevada and the South East corner of Oregon. Sparse open country in most cases, some cultivation on fertile river flats. A few low mountains occasionally, but nothing like what they would have encountered if he had chosen a direct route East across Colorado. 

 

They climbed slowly to 11,200', winds were variable & manageable.

Outside air temperatures were around -8 C. There was a lot of snow on the ground as they headed further inland and got over the empty regions of Nevada & Oregon, & on up into South West Idaho.

 

They found Boise was out on a snow covered  plain, and Lambert pronounced himself satisfied when they finally made it in the early afternoon.

While he went off to see The Treasure Valley Roller-Girls, (an occurrence that Roger thought most odd)

This was plain in his discussions with Manwell about it. "Mais Manwell, does it not strike you as vrais weird, that a grown man would want to go & watch young women clad in crash helmets & the body armor, skate around a track trying to knock the living b-jezus out of each other? Non?'"

Manwell shrugged. he would have liked to have gone, but wasn't invited.

"We head to Casper, Wyoming tomorrow!", Manwell announced. "Where is that?"

Roger shrugged a rabbit shrug, which was not much of a shrug as they don't have coat hanger shoulders, & waved a paw Eastwards. "Out there in the frozen waste lands Monsieur", Roger muttered.

 

Meanwhile, at Sloterberry Farm, Robert had finally got his cameras rigged & waved to Harold to commence the operation.

But as Harold attached 2 milk cups to Augustine's scalp, Robert collared Jane.

Turning to face into a selfie video camera held out on a long pole he intoned, "Good afternoon viewers, this afternoon we are doing emergency cranial PR surgery on an anonymous member of Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Augustine, Duchess of somewhere or other stuck her Cobra backwards through a box thorn hedge outside Sloterberry Farm, home to the boutique cheese making operation of the lady on my left, Jane!"

& Robert beamed at Jane, who stood gobsmacked, then he beamed back into the camera.

"Tell me Jane, do you feel responsible for Augustine's horrific injuries?'

'What!", replied a startled Jane, frantically smoothing her hair as she realized the camera was swinging her way.
"Was it not was your cows that defecated on the road thereby causing the accident?"

& at this point Robert held the camera up to Jane's face. 

Jane pushed it away & hissed at him, "You could have given me time to freshen my makeup & do my hair!!"

"I take that as a yes then?", Robert continued.

"Certainly not!", Jane replied indignantly. "The driver was travelling too fast for the corner!"

Robert turned the camera back to himself & intoned, "We seem to have a disagreement as to the facts viewers, perhaps it will eventually be sorted out in a court of law!"

"Robert, put that bloody thing down & help me here!", Harold quietly muttered to Robert as he fished around inside Augustine's skull. "I think there's a piece of Garden Gnome roaming around in here, go & check if anything's missing from the Gnome!"

"I'll go, Lucy volunteered, returning shortly to report that half the gnomes hat was missing.

"B-gger!", Harold muttered, this is going to be trickier than I thought!"

On hearing this, Mildred burst into tears.

"Tea, who's for tea?", Jane suddenly asked.

This was greeted with much enthusiasm.

"I'll have a Vodka & tonic!", Harold called as half the crew headed for the kitchen.

"Should he be drinking?", Emily asked. 

"Oh, he has to!", Lucille replied.

"Good g-d!", Mildred exclaimed, "my brother is an alcoholic brain surgeon!"

"Oh, the drinking is not a problem, one just has to watch when he mixes it with cocaine!", Robert advised Mildred.

"Dear Lord!", she muttered, "I do hope Mother left a Will!"

 

 

On the way to Boise from KSFO

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Getting up near the California, Nevada border

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Nevada wasteland, some snow about

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Some mountains in South East Oregon

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Boise environs, with the airport up ahead

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Safely on the ground at Boise Air Terminal/Gowan, (KBOI)

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Diary Entry #111: Boise Idaho, (KBOI) to Casper Wyoming, (KHAD)

 

Early morning at KBOI & the airport & city are smothered in fog.

Like being thrust under a large white goose-down duvet.

Lambert ponders his options. He wants to get to Casper today. Some mountains to dodge en route, & the fog could be a problem.

He spies Roger munching on a croissant. "Roger old chap!", Lambert greets him heartily.

Which immediately raised Roger's suspicions.

"What do you think of the idea that, due to the fog, & you are our 'radar', we strap you to a chair on the cowling & as you see obstructions, you hold out a paw to point which way to go!" , Lambert nodded & beamed.

Roger was aghast. "Monsieur, are you out of you f-g mind?? I would freeze to death out there!"

'We could wrap you in bubble wrap!", Lambert suggested helpfully.

.

"Ha!!", was all that Roger could muster. "If I am radar, I sit 'inside' the cockpit, not outside!", & he stamped his foot & hopped to the back of Babushka.

Lambert followed him.

"Right ho, that's what we will do then!! But, if the windshield fogs up you don't mind if we hang you out a side window to wipe it, do you!"

Roger drew himself up to his full 2' 6' height & staring coldly at Lambert, told him that Babushka had wipers that worked. "Learn how to use them, dunderhead!"

"Well!", Lambert muttered, "Scant thanks for my innovative approach.

At that moment Manwell appeared in a cowboy outfit, complete with hat, boots & spurs.

"Good g-d!", Lambert exclaimed, "Is there a fancy dress party somewhere?, because if there is I have this off the shoulder kimono I picked up in Japan. Dying to wear it, but no suitable occasion has presented itself!"

"No Mr Lambert. I am celebrating that we fly over the land where 'seldom is heard a disparaging word & the cows eat all day!"

"I think you mean 'Give me a home where the buffalo roam!', chimed in Roger.

"Si, si!", Manwell agreed.

"I don't know what to say!", Lambert shrugged & turned back  to peering into the murk.

Suddenly he wheeled around  & announced that they were departing in 30 minutes.

Manwell & Roger protested about the visibility, but it fell on deaf ears.

They left in thick fog, flew out of fog, across snow covered prairie, then closer to Casper the snow receded.

Finally, they reached Casper & landed at the wrong airport.

"Could happen to anyone!", Lambert sniffed

 

Leaving Boise in low visibility with Roger's nose pressed against the inside of the windshield

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Starting to leave mountains behind

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Snow on the prairies

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Snow has been left behind & now headed down to Casper

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Passing KCPR, the airport they should have landed at. (Casper/Natron County International)

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Lining up for KHAD, Harford Airfield. Lambert picked the wrong airfield in Casper

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On the ground at KHAD. Lambert was confussed by the color of the runway. "Is it mud?", he asked Roger.

"No idea monsieur. I just know we passed the airport we should have landed at!", Roger replied

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To be continued

 

Windswept

 

 

 

 

 

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Diary Entry #112: Casper, (KHAD), to Sioux Falls South Dakota, Foss Airport, (KFSD)

 

Lambert's intention was to hit the airways by 9 am & get a good start for Sioux Falls.

Traversing vast amounts of mid west plains & prairie,it would be a flight of around 470 miles, with a bit of mountain dodging early on.

Manwell hoped to see some Buffalo.

"May well do!", Lambert advised him.

But later that night in Casper, Lambert took his crew to Dinner at Dirty Dan's Steak & Sushi Bar.

Upon seeing the menu, Roger demurred & ordered a Garden Salad. Manwell selected a 12 oz steak with mushrooms & onion rings, & Lambert chose the Sea Bass & Wild Salmon sushi platter.

"Monsieur!", Roger ventured, "How will the fish be fresh when we are nearly as far from the sea as you can get in America?",

Lambert laughed heartily. "I'm sure it will be ok. They fly the stuff in!"

 About 3 am there was an eruption in the back of Babushka & Roger woke to find Lambert gargling loudly into a bucket.

"G-d, I feel terrible!", he complained.

"Sushi?", Roger inquired unkindly.

"Don't think so!", Lambert managed between barps. "I think it was the bread roll!"

Manwell & Lambert exchanged glances.

Lambert continued to throw up for another 2 hours, & at dawn there was nothing left, but he continued to heave, sounding like a wounded bull elk trapped  in a thicket.

Roger & Manwell decided to take him to hospital.

Boris was pulled out, the sidecar attached & Roger drove Lambert to the local hospital.

They returned at midday with Lambert hooked up to 2 saline drips, a potassium drip & a pink Pepto-Bismal drip.

He was carried into Babushka & laid out on a camp stretcher, the drips tied to the ceiling.

"He discharged himself!", Roger told Manwell when Manwell asked why they had come back.

 

Lambert raised himself on an elbow & instructed them to fly to Sioux Falls. "Follow the road!", he advised, then he fell asleep.

 

Manwell took the left seat, Roger the right & they left at 2 pm.

After an hour Roger did some calculations & deduced they would get to Sioux Falls after dark. He began to frantically drink the emergency carrot juice supply.

"Another night with my nose pressed on vibrating glass! What a life!", he muttered.

 

& so it came to be that they journeyed on over sparsely inhabited prairie that stretched on & on.

They took turns flying as the monotony of the landscape was putting the pilot to sleep.

They needed to be alert as a 46 kt crosswind was pushing them off track, but Babushka had the knack of crabbing unaided.

She seemed to know where to point her nose to offset the wind & they did not have to wrestle the rudder against it.

On into a radiant dusk, then  some cloud, & then at Sioux Falls, thick fog.

As they descended Manwell began to pray & Roger pressed himself flat against the windscreen, searching for landing lights.

He caught a glimpse, told Manwell to swing left, & then as they headed towards them, the fog stopped about 100' above the ground & Manwell managed to get then down, again in a bit of a crosswind.

As the engine turned over for the last time Lambert suddenly awoke & announced he had never been to Burma before & would enjoy looking around.

He sat up & collapsed back down onto the stretcher.

Roger found Lambert's handcuffs & cuffed him to the fuselage.

 

Heading out of Casper, Wyoming

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Prairie as far as the eye can see

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South Dakota dusk colors

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Sunset silhouette

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Sunset & clouds

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The lights that Roger saw that led them to safety

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Manwell makes it to the Foss airfield at Sioux Falls

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To be continued

 

Windswept

 

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Diary Entry #113: Change of plans

 

During the night Lambert was called away & came back to the airport 4 hours later looking very disgruntled.

He waited until breakfast before raising the matter with his crew.

As they munched on bacon & eggs, home fries & fried tomatoes, liberally slathered in ketchup, Lambert paused & glanced out at the morning light.

"It's like this chaps. Apparently my Mother In Law is gravely ill in hospital with a Garden Gnome lodged under her skull!"

"Mais, a Garden Gnome, c'est impossible!", Roger exclaimed.

"Well that's what I said to Mildred, but she was very insistent that that was the case & that I must return to England post haste!"

Manwell looked up from watching the egg yoke he had just stabbed bleed out yellow over his home fries.

"Post haste?"

"With all speed, not p-ing around!", Lambert added.

"So why are you still here Monsieur?", Roger asked.

"Ah, well. the terms of my wet lease of the AN-2 require me to be with her at all times. In the event that I cannot accompany her, she is grounded, until I can!"

"Oh!", Manwell exclaimed. "Then we give up & go home!", he asked hopefully.

"Not quite old chap, I'm negotiating for another aircraft lease to keep us in the event. You two will fly on with it!"

"Ah!", Roger said with some perspicacity, "fly in it or fly it?"

"Fly in it. I'm afraid. Terms of the lease do not allow novice pilots!"

"Novice!, how dear you sir!", Roger exclaimed, taking extreme umbrage at the suggestion.

"So you are rated on a Hawker Beechcraft H250 H850XP?", Lambert asked him pointedly.

"A what?", Roger queried.

"An 850 XP,!", Lambert repeated.

"No!"

"Thought not!"

Lambert peered out the Airport  cafe' window & saw a sleek mid size jet touching down

"And here she comes. Gentlemen, lets meet your new crew!"

& with that Lambert left the cafe and ambled over to the 850XP as it was going through its power down procedures.

Roger & Manwell hurried after him. They liked the look of the 850XP.

The cabin door opened & 2 figures stood in the doorway & stared at Lambert, Roger & Manwell gathered below them, then began whispering to each other.

"Greetings!", Lambert called.

He was met with silence.

 

To be continued

 

Windswept

 

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Diary Entry #114: Sioux Falls, (KFSD), to La Guardia, NYC. (KLGA)

 

Lambert entered the 850XP, motioning Roger & Manwell to stay outside.

He emerged after 10 minutes looking concerned.

"Ok chaps, its like this. This is not the regular crew. They do not want to be seen.

They will be in the cockpit when you board. The door will be closed. You are not to approach the cockpit! Got it!", Lambert asked.

"C'est very strange!", Roger complained.

Manwell nodded in agreement.

"Best I can do chaps I'm afraid", Lambert replied.

"Ready to go?"

"Where?", Manwell asked.

"The bright lights of New York City. You will wait there until I catch up with you when I return from England in a day or so!"

"So we will still be on time monsieur?", Roger asked.

"Just, if all goes well", Lambert replied.

The 850X engines burst into life  & Lambert hurried Roger & Manwell on to the jet.

"Luxury!", Manwell exclaimed when he saw the cabin seating.

"Will there be meals, monsieur?", Roger asked.

Lambert dug into a bag & gave them both a Big Mac.

"Bon appetit!", he exclaimed, & with a wave he was gone.

 

As soon as he was off the plane & the cabin door shut, the 850XP began taxiing.

It was held for 10 minutes in the traffic queue & then made a smooth departure & headed East South East.

The 1,027 mile journey passed without incident as the bleak Fall landscape slipped by under them as they cruised at 15,000' among patchy clouds.

Roger did try the cockpit door handle once  on the way to a comfort stop, but it did not budge.

Upon landing at the end of the day, they were instructed to remain in their seats for 5 minutes after the pilots had departed.

Manwell watched as they left. They had hoodie jackets on & their faces were obscured. Roger noted they wore heels.

"Women!", he whispered to Manwell.

"Indeed, si!", Manwell replied. "What happens now?"

Roger fished in his jacket pocket  & took out an envelope Lambert had thrust into his hand, after he departed.

Opening it he found Hotel reservations for the WestHouse Hotel. "Centrally located!", Roger commented.

"Let's go!"
"Is there no message from Mr Lambert?", Manwell asked.

Roger dug around in the envelope & pulled out a scrap of paper.
"4.1"

"What?"

"4.1, there's a number, that's all!", Roger replied.

He paused. "How strange!", he muttered. "Only 1 decimal point!"

 

& in England, Lambert was being bundled into a Black Jaguar at Heathrow airport.

"Did you bring the change of underwear I requested?", Lambert asked, turning to address Mildred in the back seat.

But the person in the back seat was not Mildred.

 

 

On the way out from Sioux Falls

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Snow dusted USA hinterland

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Into Pennsylvania from Ohio

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Descending to La Guardia, NYC

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On the runway at (KLGA)

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Taxiing at La Guardia

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Diary Entry #115: "Que!??"

 

Roger & Manwell enjoyed staying at the WestHouse Hotel.

Overnight a message came from Lambert instructing them to be at La Guardia  airport at 10 am.

 

They arrived by Yellow Cab at 9.45 am & were surprised to see the 850X taxiing out for departure.

"Que!!, que!!??", Manwell exclaimed. "What is going on??"

Roger frowned a tired Rabbit frown & looked around the Cafe'.

He noticed a man in shabby clothing watching them.

The man got up & walked quickly past about 10 minutes later, sliding a newspaper on to their table.

"Que!!??", Manwell demanded as the stranger swiftly exited the cafe'.

Roger opened the newspaper & a note fell out.

"Change of plans, Sit tight, Lambert"

"Sit tight?, what he mean sit tight?", Manwell hissed vociferously. "I could be in Hotel jacuzzi!"

"Calm down Manwell", Roger replied. "All will be revealed. Patience!" 

"Lambert moves in mysterious ways!"

 

& indeed, at that moment Lambert & Weedwacker were entering an East London pawn shop via a side door.

 

To be continued

 

Windswept

 

 

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Diary Entry #116: La Guardia, (KLGA), to Nashua, (KASH), New Hampshire

 

Roger & Manwell waited another hour at the La Guardia airport cafe'.

Manwell drummed his fingers, Roger played Solitaire.

They were just on the point of leaving when an aircraft mechanic entered the cafe' & looked around.

Spying Roger & Manwell, he wandered over to them, wiping his hands on an oil stained rag.

"Roger Rabbit & Manwell?", he asked.

Roger nodded. The mechanic handed Roger & envelope & said he would be back after getting a coffee.

Roger opened the envelope & took out a typed sheet of paper. Manwell peered over his shoulder.

"Gentlemen!", it started, "the next phase of our journey has you ferrying an aircraft from La Guardia to Nashua, New Hampshire.

From there you will ferry a new AN-2 to Bar Harbor for its owner.

After that we need to get you to Halifax, Nova Scotia, where i will meet you with Babushka, if I can get the family matters wrapped up.

I will be in touch about that leg.Good luck!"

"What he mean, good luck?", Manwell asked. Roger shrugged his tiny shoulders just as the mechanic rejoined them.

"I'll finish this & then we'll go over to your aircraft."

After 5 minutes of silence, the mechanic was not talkative, he nodded towards the exit & they followed him out to a golf cart.

He drove them to a hangar about half a mile away, where a very bright yellow bi-plane was waiting.

"What is it?/", Manwell asked

"De Havilland DH82a Tiger Moth!", the mechanic said with some pride. "Just had a major overhaul & you are to take it back to its base in Nashua."

"But, but!", Roger exploded. "It only has  2 open cockpits, we'll freeze to death!"

"Not so!", the mechanic replied & reaching into a locker he gave them both a leather flying helmet, goggles, a WW1 sheepskin line bomber jacket & wool lined boots.

"Warm as toast!", he added encouragingly.

After some discussion about their predicament, Roger & Manwell reluctantly agreed to do the ferrying job & suited up.

They agreed that Manwell would fly from the rear cockpit & Roger would observe from the front one, & signal left or right turns by sticking his gloved paw out the appropriate side.

This would prove to be useless as his arms were so short, so he resorted to leaning over the side of the cockpit he wanted Manwell to turn towards.

"We haven't flown one of these!", Manwell protested to the mechanic in a last ditch effort to escape the assignment.

"No worries, you can fly an AN-2, this is much easier!!"

& with that he instructed them to set the fuel & magnetos for starting, as he turned the propeller over.

It caught on the second try & Manwell managed to hold the Tiger long enough for the mechanic to get out of the way.

With his Vespa background, Manwell quickly figured out the controls & taxied them into line for take off.

 

They departed & had not gone far out of La Guardia when Roger decided this was not a good idea.

As the intercom wasn't working, he tried to crawl back to Manwell's cockpit for a chat, but Manwell would have none of it & motioned him to go back.

So the flight progressed at 5,000', -2 C, 76 kia, & 2 frozen pilots.

In fact when they finally made Nashua & rolled to a stop off the side of the runway, airport security found Roger with his overbite frozen to his bottom lip.

"A Rabbit shouldn't be flying in this weather!!", a helpful EMT lady told him.

He was so cold he couldn't respond in any manner  & had to suffer the indignity of being lifted out of the cockpit & carried to a waiting  ambulance, like a bag of laundry.

& the lady carrying him was scratching him between the ears, which he found very irritating.

It would take them half a day to thaw out. "Never again!", Roger muttered when his mouth could move. "Si!", Manwell agreed.

 

& in East London, Lambert had entered the Undertaker's premises next to the Pawn shop, via a secret door that connected them

He was surprised to find who was among the small gathering clustered around a bed in an ante room.

 

The view of the back of Roger's head from Manwell's rear cockpit

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Heading North North East, away from La Guardia

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Somewhere over Connecticutt

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Heading into Massachusetts

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Fly by

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Dropping down, looking for Nashua, NH

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Safely on the ground at Nashua, (KASH). Both flyers had to be assisted from the Tiger Moth & put in a warm room to thaw out

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To be continued

 

Windswept

 

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Diary Entry #117: Nashua, (KASH) in New Hampshire,  to Bar Harbor, (KBHB) in Maine

 

By the time Roger &  Manwell had thawed out night had fallen.

They slept in a heated room in the back of a hangar, Lambert having forgotten to arrange accommodation.

The next morning they were woken by a Russian lady who in halting English explained that their next flight was waiting.

Shuffling out into the snow dappled  light, they saw it was an AN-2, but not Babushka.

Manwell was confused, but Roger thought he knew the story.

"Re-positioning, its a ferrying  flight for a new owner, should be a doddle!"

"You begin to sound like Mr Lambert!", Manwell remonstrated.

"Mon dieu, slap me if I do that again!!", Roger replied

 

Loaded with Coffee & Croissants to go, they fired up "Silver Wings", as Manwell had named her, &  headed off for Bar Harbor.

 

Roger was struck by the monotony of the snow coated landscape & how "Silver Wings" blended in with it.

Manwell nodded, he was distracted.

He had the manuscript for Jane of Sloterberry Farm out & was trying to find where he was up to.

 

The flight progressed without incident & once on the ground at Bar Harbor, they taxied the AN-2 over to a hangar & handed her over to the new owner.

Who turned out to be a crop duster pilot who was going to have the aircraft converted to that purpose.

 

Meanwhile, in an Undertaker's Ante Rom in East London, Augustine was stretched out in a bed surrounded by a throng that included Mildred, Harold, Weedwacker, Lambert & her current husband, who's name escaped her.

 

Lambert found Mildred & nodded & then shook her hand.

"Mildred!"

"Lambert!"

The greetings were stiff.

"For gods sake Lambert, show some affection, kiss her!", Augustine squawked from her bed.

Lambert went pink, he was not accustomed to public display's of affection.

Lambert leaned forward awkwardly & pecked at the side of Mildred's cheek as Mildred closed her eyes, not in ecstasy, but rather in frustration with her Mother's continued existence.

Harold was later to comment to Robert that Lambert's attempt reminded him of a buzzard trying to devour a piece of a corpse in a Tibetan sky burial he had witnessed when he was trekking through that country.

 

"I have gathered you here to clarify a few things before I shortly shuffle off this mortal coil!", Augustine began. "You see, I have a Garden Gnome lodged in my brain & I am done for!"

"Not true Mother, we got it all, you are not done for. You do occasionally slip out of gear & go off on a tangent though", Harold corrected her.

"Oh bull sh-t Harold. I know I'm done for. Has the bus arrived yet?', Augustine asked. The gathered throng looked at each other & decided that this was a tangential departure moment.

'It's on its way Mother!", Mildred assured her.

'Good!", Augustine replied.

"In my younger days I guess I was what you could call a bit of what is called a wild child!"

She paused. Nothing was said. She turned towards Harold.

"Harold, I think your Father might be The Count of Monte Crisco", you know, that chap who was heir to the vegetable shortening  fortune. But I'm not sure", Augustine advised him.

"Think Mother, you only think!", Harold snorted indignantly. "How many alternatives could there be!", he continued, incensed, for she had struck a raw nerve.

"'Oh Harold, I don't know, it was a full moon, I had had too much to drink. We danced all night.

But in the end there were 15 of us on the billiard table at the Chateau Wanderlust in Saint Tropez that night"

"15!", Harold was aghast.

"Yes dear, Rupert had got his balls stuck in the side pocket & we were all trying to help him get them out!"

"Good g-d!", Harold exploded.

"I think it was the cue ball and the red one, or was it the blue one?  Anyway, when the scrum subsided, there I was alone on the Billiard Table, with The Count & 3 other chaps!"

"And!", Harold demanded

"I'm sleepy now Harold, this will have to wait for another day!", Augustine murmured as the sedative kicked in.

 

 

Roger & Manwell begin the ferrying flight from Nashua to Bar Harbor

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Over South West Maine

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Looking up at "Silver Wings"

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Fly-by over Maine

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Heading down to Bar Harbor

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On approach into Bar Harbor

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Ferrying assignment nearly completed

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To be continued

 

Windswept

 

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Diary Entry #118: Augustine

 

In the Undertaker's Ante Room in East London, Lambert was becoming increasingly agitated.

He had a Learjet on stand by for the hop back across the Atlantic to Halifax to take possession of Babushka, who at this very moment was on the way to Halifax under the command of 2 blond women of strikingly similar appearance.

 

"Is she out to it?", he whispered to Mildred.

"B-ggered if I know!. Its Harold who is giving her the shots!", Mildred whispered back.

They had decided Augustine was indeed out of it & were about to leave when suddenly, like the Phoenix rising from ashes, she sat bolt upright & looking slowly around the room, set off again.

"Did I tell you when I met the Dali Lama in Marrakesh he complimented me on the color of my eyes, Harold? Harold, are you paying attention?"

Before Harold could reply, Augustine rolled on.

"Mildred, I need to clarify something. I think your Father was a waiter at the Hotel Garibaldi in Venice. It was a romantic moon lit night when I went punting along the canals.

I'd had too much to drink, of course, & fell out of the gondola.

Luigi was coming off shift at the Hotel & saw me go under.

Gallantly he stripped off his trousers & shoes & dived into the sewerage to save me.

He then arranged a horse & cab to take me back to his humble dwellings & hosed me down in the courtyard.

I mean dear, I was covered in everything that floats in a Venetian canal!!

In the process of hosing me down, my outfit, which for the time was a bit daring & sheer, well, it sort of flew off & there I was. Jay bird!"

"Jay bird?", Lambert inquired.

'Naked!!", Mildred hissed at him.

"Luigi carried me up to his room & laid me out on his bed. I remember nothing after that.

I had to borrow one of his Mother's outfits to return to the Hotel whence I was staying.!", Augustine paused & her eyelids fluttered. "Harold, who is that man in the corner?', she said, pointing to her estranged husband.

"I think its your husband Mother", Harold replied, trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the sedative.

"Ask him to leave please!", Augustine was becoming testy.

She turned to Mildred, "anyway, 9 months after falling into the Venetian sewer system, you came along!"

"Charming!", Mildred snorted.

"So that is why you have the heart shaped birth mark on the back of your left ear. It's passed down through the female line, you see!"

"And the gentleman just leaving was kind enough to adopt you from a Venetian orphanage when you were 7." "Thank you!", Augustine called after him & waved.

Mildred was stunned by all of this.

"So my real father, the waiter, where is he now?"

"Oh dear, I am not sure. I think an octopus might have got him, or a Swedish submarine conning tower. Something dispatched him underwater!"

Augustine paused for breath, then launched herself again. 'When will dinner be served. Is Donald coming for dinner?"

 "Donald?", Harold inquired.

"Duck!", Augustine replied, "Donald Duck! I own Disneyland. All the characters come for dinner at some stage.

Yesterday it was Winnie The Pooh. Terrible table manners!! My g-d! Stuck his hands into every jar on the table!"

By now the room had fallen silent as the assembled group exchanged worried glances.

Mildred was looking around the room for a blackboard so she could write 'dementia'??, on it. But of course there wasn't one.

Suddenly Augustine sighed & rolled over. 'You can go now, wake me at midnight for the New Year count down!"

 

& at Bar Harbor, Roger paced the departure lounge, wondering where their charter flight to Halifax had  got to.

Suddenly a counter clerk came over with an envelope.

Manwell groaned inwardly & Roger cursed.

 

To be continued.

 

Windswept

 

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Diary Entry 119: Bar Harbor, (KBHB) to Halifax International, (CYHZ), Nova Scotia, Canada

 

Roger ripped open the envelope & read its contents aloud to Manwell.

"Greeting fellow flyers. Change of plans. Stop. Charter has fallen through. Stop. But I have a ferry job for you, to Halifax. Stop.

Go to Hangar 3 & ask for Harry!" Good luck, bon voyage. If I can escape Mildred's family melt down, will see you in Halifax. Cheers. Lambert"

"Mon dieu, not again. The ferry job!!", Roger complained.

"We got to hangar 3 & see the aircraft?", Manwell asked.

Roger shrugged his tiny shoulders & off they went.

In Hangar 3, before them stood a red 'praying mantis', as Roger described it to Manwell.

"Wilga, its a Wilga!", a man emerging from behind the Wilga called out.

"Harry is my name. Get in I'll show you the controls!"

"It's pretty simple" he added. "Throttle, mixture, prop control here. Switches are here. Starter here. Good luck!"

& Harry jumped out.

Manwell managed to get 'Lady In Red' as he had named her, started & they gingerly taxied out of Hangar 3. 

Once he got the hang of the Wilga's quicker control response, compared to Babushka, Manwell settled down.

They flew to Halifax at 4,000' in cold & cloudy conditions, dealing with shifting wind directions the entire trip.

Indeed, a 16 kt crosswind caught them during the landing & for a short time they were going down the runway on one well, until manwell got the tail down.

After handing over the Wilga to a Polish Pastry chef who was buying it for hunting trips into Canadian interior bush strips, they headed foa Motel to await news from Lambert.

"You think he come?", Manwell asked Roger.

"Perhaps", was Roger's enigmatic reply.

 

& in East London at 3 am, Augustine was ringing her milliner convinced it was the first day of Ascot & her hat hadn't been delivered.

"Barry, Barry, is that you!", Augustine shrieked down the phone. "Where is my bl-dy hat! I ordered it 6 months ago. You know, the one where they had to knock off 2 peacocks to get all the feathers!"

Barry rolled over & sighed. "Augustine darling, Ascot is 2 months away sweet heart. Do go back to sleep. Please!"

& he hung up & left his phone off the hook.

"2 months? Good g-d, nobody tells me these things.!", she muttered to herself.

 

 

Bringing up the revs just prior to take off from Bar Harbor

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Over Maine

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Monochrome Fall landscape

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Dropping down to Halifax

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One wheel crosswind touch down

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Manwell holding the Wilga's nose into wind as they roll along the runway at (CYHZ)

 

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So you're in Halifax.  I have some great memories of spending time there!  TBTG, none of them involved flying!! Or at least not flying in a machine!!

 

I hope someone in your flight crew is at least looking at the calendar!  We're nigh on to running out of time to complete this rally as planned.  

 

I'm currently stuck in Munich, Bavaria!  Which certainly isn't on the recommended course.  But is a great place for reliving memories of where I worked when I actually had a job!!  So there you have it! 

 

In my case as well as yours, I'm keen to remember.  When there are women involved, there is hugely a chance that the best laid plans or men and machines might go AMOK!!  

 

I certainly hope to meet you and buy you a round of at least a twenty year old Vintage Port in London!!  It's been a great ride!!!!  Thanks for being a part of it!!!!

 

Rupert

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Hello Rupert

A Port would be delightful.

Lambert thinks Augustine has a case of Taylor's Fladgate 1863 Single Harvest somewhere. He may try to borrow a bottle, but as you may have ascertained, Augustine is slightly unstable at the moment, asking may set her off again.

& Lambert must make haste to Halifax to get in on time!

He may make it on the last day!

Windswept

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Diary Entry #120: Halifax, CYHZ), to Stephenville, (CYJT), Labrador & Newfoundland - Stage I

 

Lambert was 3 miles from Heathrow when the call came.

It was Weedwacker.

"You must come back Lambert, she insists!", Weedwacker told him. His voice had a quiet air of desperation.

"Tell her to b-gger off. I have a plane to catch!", Lambert replied tersely.

"Lambert!", Weedwacker yelled, "I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. She who must be obeyed, must be!", Weedwacker pronounced.

"And if you don't come back, your assets will be seized & your goldfish euthanized!", Weedwacker added for good measure.

"You swine!", Lambert yelled into the phone. "Leave the goldfish out of this!"

"10 minutes!", Weedwacker demanded.

Lambert sighed. "10 minutes.

He tapped on the cab driver''s partition, "Short & Stiff, Undertakers, East London, make it snappy!"

'Ok guv!", the driver replied as he swung around in oncoming traffic, causing Lambert to shriek under his breath.

"Wait for me, this shouldn't take long!", Lambert told the cabbie as he hopped out & was then let into the Undertaker's premises by a side door.

 

He was shown to the main viewing room where he found Augustine dressed in ceremonial attire, sitting on a throne.

Behind her stood Weedwacker dressed in a court jester's outfit, clutching cue cards.

"Lambert, glad you could make it!", Augustine greeted him royally.

Weedwacker held up a cue card that said 'Bow!"

"Lambert shook his head.

Another cue card - "Do it!!, for G-ds sake!!"

Lambert inclined his forehead.

"Approach!", Augustine commanded.Cue card - "Do it!!"

Lambert shuffled forward.

"You may kneel before me!", Augustine told him.

Another cue card - "Do it!"

Lambert sighed & knelt in front of Augustine.

She rose from the chair & taking a sword from Weedwacker, walloped Lambert on the right shoulder with the flat of the blade & pronounced - "I, Augustine, 14th Duchess of Rochester, hereby in accordance with the authority vested in me by Richard the III, pronounce you Sir Arnold Lambert of Wootton Hollow. Henceforth you may tithe your employees & have the Freedom of The City of Wootton Hollow"

"Rise Sir Arthur.!", Augustine commanded. As Lambert rose she turned towards a bay window & stared out. Clutching her bosom she began, "It is a far far better thing that I do now than I have ever done before!"

She paused, breathed in deeply & off she went again -"His youthful hose, well sav’d, a world too wide, For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all"

She paused again for dramatic effect & smiled benignly down on Lambert from her throne. "You see Sir Arthur, I have a garden gnome lodged in my brain. I am not long for this world", & she waved her arm extravagantly towards the heavens & recited, "No matter where; of comfort no man speak: Let’s talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes, Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth, Let’s choose executors and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath, Save our deposed bodies to the ground?"

 

"Lovely stuff Maam, thank you for the Knighthood & shoulder bruising, but I must away, for a winged bird awaits me!", Lambert whispered to her.

"A poet!", Augustine trilled, "Begone good sir & may Her Majesty's Customs officials be kind to you en route!"

Weedwacker motioned him to leave & walking out backwards with a bow thrown in, Lambert made his escape, tumbled into the taxi & requested a direct route to Heathrow, post haste.

"Arthur?, When did I become Arthur?', he mused as he was whisked to Heathrow & onto the Learjet that had warmed up prior to his arrival & began taxiing as soon as the cabin door was closed.

 

Lambert slept the whole trip & arrived at Halifax in the early morning.

He left to find Roger & Manwell, an easy task as they were standing out on the tarmac scanning the sky.

Soon there was a rumbling noise, like 10 out of tune Fordson Tractors ambling along a country lane & Babushka dropped out of the clouds at 45 degrees & eased onto the tarmac.

But it taxied to the far end of the runway & pulled up next to a small black bus.

2 figures emerged from the aircraft & quickly boarded the bus, which left at speed.

"Monsieur, that is Babushka?', Roger asked Lambert

Lambert nodded. "Find a golf cart & we will go & get her!"

 

To be continued

 

Windswept

 

 

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Diary Entry #121: Halifax, CYHZ), to Stephenville, (CYJT), Labrador & Newfoundland - Stage II

 

Just before they boarded Babushka, Lambert pulled Roger & Manwell aside.

It was snowing heavily and they were not happy to be trapped outside.

"Gentlemen, I appreciate all you have done to keep us in The Race. I have gifts!", & he handed Roger a small parcel & told Manwell his was inside Babushka.

Roger hastily undid  the wrapping. "Chocolates!, how thoughtful Monsieur!", he murmured. 'I thought something from your native country would be appropriate", Lambert replied.

Roger stiffened. 'Monsieur, for the 100th time, I am Belgian. & these are the Swiss chocolates. How insulting!"

He was about to throw them to the ground when Manwell emerged from Babushka with an ear to ear smile. "Loretta!!", he cried as he made for Lambert, arms outstretched, lips puckered.

Lambert ducked, & dived into Babushka. 'Swiss chocolate is better!", he hissed at Roger. 'Be not ungrateful!"

Roger shook his head & let Manwell lead him by the arm to see Loretta, Manwell's fondly remembered Vespa.

"But where is Boris & the Sidecar?", Roger inquired. Lambert indicated it was not to be discussed.

Roger looked around, "And the dashboard is  blue, it used to be gray. Mai, this is not Babushka!!"

"I can assure you it is gentlemen, & now we must make haste. We have a day or two to make up!", Lambert replied.

He was happy to be back in the Left Seat & soon had Babushka warmed up & rolling down the runway at Halifax, (CYJT).

Roger was not happy they were departing in increasingly heavy snow.

"Oh g-d, nose on the windscreen time again, I fear!", he muttered to himself.

"Monsieur!", Roger called to get Lambert's attention as they ploughed through the snow.

"Where is Stephenville?"

Lambert cleared his throat & yelled above the roar of Babushka's engine, "Its on the West Coast of Newfoundland. The town functions as a local service centre for the southwestern part of the island, serving a direct population of 25,000 people from surrounding areas and over 90,000 people along the entire west coast of the island. It was formerly known as the Acadian village, between 1848 and 1870. The populace of the village consisted of Roman Catholics who eked out a living, farming and fishing. The town's population continued to grow because of the stable economy. It was also formerly home to Ernest Harmon AFB, which was operated by the United States Army Air Forces and later the United States Air Force from 1941 to 1966., according to Wikipedia", Lambert replied.

 

It was a bouncy trip initially & Lambert was busy monitoring wing icing & Manwell was tweaking the engine to hold the power.

Roger guided them & eventually they made it out of the snow, but struck messy weather on the approach into Stephenville.

Lambert got them down in one piece & they hurried to the terminal to warm up.

"Her heaters aren't working!", Roger complained.

Lambert nodded in agreement.

"I'll have them looked at when we get to Goose Bay tomorrow!"

 

 

Dicey take off

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Leaving Halifax in driving snow

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The snow has been left behind

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Nearing Stephenville, diving to get under oncoming cloud

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Under the cloud now & coming into Stephenville via the seaward approach

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Landing at Stephenville, (CYJT), in inclement conditions

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To be continued

 

Windswept

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Diary Entry #122: Stephenville, (CYJT), to Goose Bay, (CYYR), Newfoundland & Labrador

 

Lambert was itching to leave for Goose Bay. He had been watching the weather & a lot of snow was headed towards Greenland & Iceland, stops further along the trip.

"Hurry!", he admonished Manwell as he emerged from the Airport Cafe' still munching on his breakfast slice of Bacon & Egg pie.

Roger carried  3 cups of coffee in one of those egg crate cardboard holders,  & they clambered aboard, flicked innumerable switches & got Babushka going.

They departed in a mix of rain & snow, but this soon cleared & it was patches of cloud & blue sky for the rest of the journey.

They reached Goose Bay without incident & after securing Babushka, Lambert called a meeting.

"Ok chaps, very long haul tomorrow. We're headed to Narsarsuaq in Greenland. 674 miles, most of it is over water.

We'll have the auxiliary fuel tank full, a life-raft & survival suits"

'Mon dieu, survival suits!!", Roger exclaimed.

"Do you not, how you say, fancy our chances?', he continued, hopping up & down in agitation.

"No, no Roger, just precautions!"

 

& meanwhile, in an East London Undertaker's viewing room, Augustine had just bequeathed the title of 'Duchess of Gywillfudy' on Mildred, after she had turned down 'Duchess of Wolverhampton'. 

"Much classier", she had confided to her brides maid when they met by chance in a High Street Tea Shop, 2 weeks later.

But Augustine's attempt to create Harold as 'Viscount Harold of Peterborough' failed miserably when he refused to show up for the investiture.

Weedwacker was beside himself & spent more than an hour trying to track Harold down, before giving up.

So Augustine gave the title to Weedwacker.

'Viscount Weedwacker of Peterborough' had a nice ring to it, he thought.

He hoped his day was finished but at 4 pm Augustine turned to him & said, "Get me the Palace!"

Weedwacker blanched. "You don't mean!"

'I do!", Augustine confirmed.

Weedwacker left & made some calls, then returned to give Augustine a cellphone.

"She's on the line!", he whispered to Augustine.

'Thank you Weedwacker. That will be all!. "Hello, is that you?' "How are you? How are the Corgi's??

'Oh dear, yes, they can be, as you say, 'right b-stards' at times"

"There was a pause while Augustine listened. . "Yes, those were the days. I do miss Maggie swinging her handbag!'

"Now, what I am ringing about dear, I wonder if I might ask a small favor?"

"Yes, I understand."

'Well, I need to borrow your open carriage. The one you use at Ascot!"

'Why?, oh its just a small thing really.

For my funeral.

You see, I have a Garden Gnome lodged in my brain & I know I shan't be around for too much longer.

& I did think riding to the cemetery in your carriage would makes such a wonderful farewell statement!"

"What? "Not set up for it?' 

"I'm sure we could get some boards in there to give a flat platform!"

"Oh, its in the workshop?' "Major issues?"

'Getting it motorized?"

"Wonderful!, V8 or V12?"

"Electric power? Really? Oh dear, I'll have to rethink this. Thank you. Bye!"

Augustine frowned. "B-gger, b-gger, b-gger!", was all she said.

 

Leaving Stephenville in a snowy mix

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Weather has cleared up. Pock marked Newfoundland/Labrador landscape

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Over Goose Bay airfield, (CYYR)

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Usual Babushka steep approach into (CYYR)

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Combating the cross wind on touching down

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Bit of sliding on the icy airfield

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To be continued

 

Windswept

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