OK, another breast-baring tale:
Just after I acquired my PPL, I was determined to show off my skills to a mate. I had joined a club in Yorkshire, that operated an L-shaped grass strip - near a certain RAF FTS.
Flying a Condor (OK so I'm no spring chicken). Condor and horsepower are like oil and water. Mate is a tubby chap. Hot day, short strip.
Rolling to the r/way end, I do my best impression of tons of confidence. Open the throttle, off we go. Gently. End of strip appearing, and Condor does not want to soar. Way past decision point. Strip ends with a cornfield. Finally heave the wretched machine into the air with nothing, but nothing to spare. I look down shaking, and notice the carb heat is out. Ram it in, and the Condor goes into a rocket-propelled zoom.
Mate says "are all take-offs as exciting as that?"
Postscript - find ears of wheat around the undercarriage when I return.
Moral: find a fuel-injected aircraft, or do your checks properly.