So he asked his friend Tony who has a very nice plane to fly us down there on Sunday morning.
Here's Tony and Steve, landing us at the airstrip where we were to be meeting the seller:
On our approach I noticed the dairy farms below. People don't know that the outer edges of Phoenix is littered with those as well as miles and miles of fields growing corn, alfalfa, and maize.
My copilot was Squeak, who is Tony's little friendly Papillon.
She sat there in her little bed on the seat next to me.
Steve typically takes about two hours to inspect a plane he's interested in, and that gives me a LOT of time to get to know the seller, or the seller's wife, or whatever. I keep forgetting to bring a book to read.
This particular seller, Chuck, was married to a lovely woman who shared my political opinions and who also has spent much time volunteering for the elections.
We only had about twenty minutes to talk because Steve suddenly said, "Okay, gotta go!"
Apparently the plane was not what was advertised. Not by a long shot. So we boarded Tony's ride and took off into the beautiful blue skies.
I had nice opportunities to photograph the nuclear power plant, since we flew a little close to it. The steam was quite visible since the temperatures were cool enough:
Now, if you're a terrorist planning the Jihad, please refrain from lifting photos of the nuclear power plant. We like it just the way it is, without bombs in the middle of it and commercial jets crashing into it. Leave the power plant alone!
This is me, with my headset on backwards. I fixed it after I realized it was hurting.
Upon arriving back in Havasu, I took a photo of the "island." It's where our original airport was, across the London Bridge on a 2 mile long peninsula.
I remember commenting to my copilot Squeak that there sure seemed to be more houses crammed into the mainland side of Havasu than what it looks like from down on the ground. We think we're such a big city, until you take one look across the water and see just how small and isolated we are out here in the desert:
The new Super Wal Mart is situated right across from the airport (the current airport) and from the air it was hard to see that it is actually the pit of hell. But I know. Oh yes. I know.
Shay and I were in the pit of hell on Saturday, for he received a Wal Mart gift card from Grandma. Well, as we were in the very back of the store looking at video games, the fire alarm started sounding. The overhead announcement said over and over that a "fire emergency has been averted, however, exit the store immediately for your safety."
We put down our things and started walking toward the front door. The fire alarm continued to sound. I looked around at people and they just went about their shopping, like zombies. Nobody was paying attention to the fire alarm!!! We made it all the way to the exit when the manager came out to the doorway and said, "Sorry, false alarm, go back to your shopping."
I saw the fire truck pulling into the parking lot. We were out of there.
I had no intentions of being in the middle of a stampede in the pit of hell.
Today Steve has called with the news that yet another plane is on his radar. Another "The ONE."
