"Spud" makes it home!!!!!

My trip to Colorado with my dad to bring Spud home was a success. Dad flew in from Indy last Tuesday and we flew to Grand Junction on Wednesday evening. We spent Thanksgiving with my Uncle Bill complete with lunch at the Golden Corral (Senior Discount). Friday was spent loading up and 22 hours driving between Saturday and Sunday got us home. Make sure you look at the ones at the end of Alex, Blake and little Carter.



Here are a couple memorable stories.

Last night in Albuquerque dad and I had just finished eating at Cracker Barrel (the trout) and I decided to top off with gas. I pulled into a little gas station that really wasn't big enough for the truck and trailer but I squeezed in anyways. The place was very crowded with travelers heading home from their Thanksgiving travels. As I stood pumping gas a fellow walking around from behind the gas station caught my eye.

He looked to be an older American Indian who was very well lubed up with alcohol. I could see his long gray hair sticking out from below his well work cowboy hat. He was dressed in a flannel shirt, jeans, and an old tattered coat. He had a black patch over one eye. He used one hand to lean on his wooden cane and the other to hold his prized possession, a can of beer. I watched his expression as he saw the airplane on the trailer. He suddenly stopped walking; his eye got big and blinked a couple of times. As he stood there swaying while leaning on his cane I could almost hear his slurred words as he said slowly, “Woe!! I walked a lot further then I thought. I’m at the airport.” With that he downed his beer in one gulp, threw the can down, and shuffled back the way he came.





The other funny story came when I got home. Before taking Spud out to the airport I swung by the house for a few minutes to unload a few things and to see Erika. I got out and was leaning over the truck bed when I heard a couple of yelps and here came the neighbor boys running for all they were worth. As they came running across the yard their mother was screaming at them to get back inside and get their shoes and coats on. “Who cares that it’s 50 out today. There is an airplane in the front yard!!!” All three of them were barefoot and mom only convinced them to stop long enough to get their shoes on. Little Carter started to cry when he found out we couldn’t fly it today.



As Erika asks me often, “Why can you never leave an airplane together?” I don’t know the answer to that question and am not sure if I ever will. Maybe that will be on my list of questions for Saint Peter. However, since this post is about two months old, Spud is back together and first flight may be this weekend. Stay tuned!