The Beech Musketeer was never much of an aircraft and this one finished its duties looking even worse than normal. There are very few sounds as attention grabbing (albeit short-lived) as that of a metal prop' at full chat trying to plough a furrow for itself. I'm particularly pleased with the wind sock remnants lodged in the starboard wing, the pole neatly sliced its way through the leading edge as far as the spar before flinging the little four seater to the ground in a flurry of stubble, soil and scrap metal - how satisfying's that ! Definition of a good pilot - same number of landings as take-offs. MORE REVS
4 comments:
What puzzles me is, how does a gent recover his Beech Musketeer from such unfortunate circumstances?
This one was removed by a chain round the prop hub attached to the back of a Volvo L70 loading shovel, dragged a couple of hundred yards and parked up in the graveyard behind the hangar.
This is why I try to avoid aeroplanes. Unless it's to fly to somewhere like the 'John Lennon' Airport to meet up with someone like Cindy. Incidentally.
I have actually flown in to Speke, as we called it then, for lunch. We then went on down to Bristol and back up to Leicester. I was sick on the way back, but my client was sick on the way to Liverpool and took her leave there. We didn't crash though.
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