So I was minding my own business, having a nice home brew Root Beer, as I was on top of a mountain with my red and white cub, checking out the scenery with nothing to do but enjoy...
In comes these guys in a cool looking bird and land next to me. We get to joshing bout mods, repairs, tips and flying stuff... Then turn to our travels and good friends... Then the name Kirby comes up and we are all laughing at the great jokes he told, and I forget for a moment that I am outnumbered and ask: "do you know my friend Eaton????"
and the fight was on!
Minding my own business down in the south, having a brew, when this DUDE walks up and says in the most observant way: "you a cub driver?"
"Nope," says I, "I am a cub PILOT. You drive Cessnas, mush dogs, especially in the flare, and point Cherokees." Now I am smiling under my prestigious SC.ORG $50,000 dollar black hat, (flip flop written in white on the front).
"Pilot eh, then how come you drove up in a Cessna 150?"
Cooly, over my frosty brew, I smiled at him and stated plainly: "Cause that is what your daughter wanted to learn in."
And the fight was on...
As I came out of the house and saw the bull moose approaching my wingtip, I realized that the moose had decided that the cub was a rival for his cows, (moose get stupid at closing time also).
So as I approached in my most concilitory easy going manner, the moose decided to go on the attack. As I stepped back and twisted my upper body allowing has head to pass, I reached over the near side antler and grasped his ears, dug his antler into the ground and quickly did a standard BULL toss and laid him out on his back. After a brief scuffle I had him pinned down, crying uncle. Later I noticed the bit of blood dripping, and realized that as I was putting the moves to him, I had gotten touched by his antler and gouged my cheek...