Probably an ok place for a first post.
Years ago when I lived in Edinburgh I was a member of the Scottish Cave Rescue Team, sort of by default through being a member of the only Scottish caving club. Callouts happened about once per geological time period, however one supper time the phone rang...
...down to central police HQ at Fettes Avenue and onwards across Edinburgh by minibus, destination Assynt in Sutherland where a holidaymaker had gone missing from their hotel. The local MRT had found marks round a pothole entrance and suspected the missing man might have fallen in.
After twenty minutes the radio called us back to Fettes Avenue. We thought we had been stood down. But no, there on the playing field at police HQ was a great yellow Wessex thundering away (which tells you how many years ago!). A bit of elbow secured the bucket seat by the open door and we drifted across Edinburgh at a couple of hundred feet, looking at the top of the gasometers and small clouds popping past the sponson beyond the door. Gobsmacking.
Flew up the whole of Scotland like that, herds of deer running away across the moors in front of us... For much of the journey we followed the A9, and I swear it is true the RAF do use the roadsigns
Following those two days I knew I had to do it! Twenty years later I'm half way through the PPL.
Cheers, M.