The air was smooth – so smooth it felt like we weren’t moving. Or maybe I was so excited to reach our destination and see our friends that every second seemed like an hour.
We heard M – surprised – usually can’t hear our destination this far out – and radioed we were near Tahoe.
M & M2 called back.
Tahoe was beautiful. There were only a few boats. As we got closer to our destination, we called R for the runway winds.
M replied barely any wind but from 170. Where are you? He thought we should have arrived 15 minutes earlier.
Actually, he was looking forward to seeing us.
We thanked R.
M replied saying I know you’d rather speak to her but it doesn’t hurt my ego.
I, of course, said what the situation required: Thank you, R.
General Yeager told me to start letting down.
Oh! Was I supposed to be PIC? (pilot in command) Was I supposed to be flying the plane?
Kidding. It was so smooth and we had it trimmed just right so we didn’t need to have our hands on the controls. Of course I did have my hand there oh so lightly.
Gen Y took over when we were 5 miles out.
There was no wind, so we landed to the north. First we flew up the mile long runway to lessen the taxi time. Greased it on.
That was the start of a wonderful and relaxing weekend.
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