Cub Quest poem

I wasn?t looking for her, no nothing even close.
I had flown searches down through Canada and then down along the coast.

Something with floats, that was my quest.
I wandered from State to State, doing my best.

Then back to Alaska, I returned empty handed.
It looked like my float dreams, would soon be disbanded.

One last fast glance, at the Soldotna airport bulletin board.
I saw the little ad plus a photo, and I knew I had scored.

So I snatched off the photo, no use giving others a chance.
Then down to the bank, to check my savings balance stance.

A couple of hours later, I found her down a long gravel back-road.
She stood proudly in a gravel pit, and on 26-inch tires she strode.

I was struck by her color, her classic cub Lock Haven yellow.
I said ?hello beautiful?, ?I think am your new Fellow?.

She had life time struts, and a Super Cub rudder.
I looked in her cockpit , and started to stammer and stutter.

Her deck was clean plywood, her panel simple and pure.
If you like flying Spam Cans, she would give you the cure.

No power, no starter, no battery or lights.
Her oversized gear legs, promised off-field landing delights.

Her cowling was glossy Lock Haven yellow, converted to the Cub Special style.
And with her little C-90 engine, in only five minutes, she could climb nearly a mile.

One pull on her prop, and her engine was purring.
I did not care about the price, she was far too alluring.

So I skimmed through the books, there wasn?t much there.
I?d think about it later, too much knowledge might lead to a scare.

The cash traded hands, and I was soon homeward bound.
She trimmed for hands-off flying, as we floated over the ground.

Now we have had a few adventures, and more are to come.
Me and the little Cub, painted the color of the afternoon sun.

Alex Clark June 2004 Homer, Alaska

Cool!

You waxed lyrical about your Cub number eleven...
I can see it now soaring the bright blue of heaven.

But having dispensed the poetic, it's time to go play...
harassing whales and otters on Kachemak Bay.


(okay so that was pathetic

Way to go Alex, excellent poem!

Brad

Plus now I have floats, the old Edo fourteens.
So no lake will be safe, from my trout fishing schemes.

From idle taxi to downwind, I'll use the plow position
Then onto the step and lift-off, that's the way to go fishin.

Then perch on the floats, while I drift on along.
The sound of water against the floats, that can't be too wrong.

The fly casting has to be sideways, I found out before.
Cause if you try it overhead, you'll catch the wing or the door.

So av-gas and fish frying, the two smells can be quite exciting.
So bring a pole and some flies, you don't need no inviting.

Alex Clark June 2004 Homer Alaska

Outstanding Alex. Just what aviation is all about. Thanks for sharing the thoughts.

Kinda makes a girl wish she was a cub! Or makes a girl wish she had floats! Beautiful, Alex!

Anne.

annestoy said:

Kinda makes a girl wish she was a cub! Or makes a girl wish she had floats! Beautiful, Alex!

Anne.

Click to expand...

And I just wish I had a girl.....

That will give me something to think about the rest of the day.



I'd like to go flyin , but the rain is a pouring.
I could sit around the house, but that would be boring.

I fixed up the log books, back to July of Forty-Six.
And I fixed the Tach Cable, so it no longer sticks.

So out into the woods, past the house I will wander.
To cut some dead brush, so the bark beetles won't plunder.

So deep in the forest, where the ferns grow tall and green.
I'll ponder on living and flyin, if you know what I mean.


Alex Clark June 2004 a very rainy Homer Alaska