Long hot summer
Thread Starter
Joined: Aug 2002
Posts: 368
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From: Italy
Long hot summer
It is a long hot summer in Italy this year. And the flying is intense. The cockpit is a sauna, the tarmac taxiways soft. The air is thin, leaving engines gasping and wings grasping for lift. Take offs are long. The thermals punch you hard. The ground below is yellow and parched. Visibility is reduced, haze and smoke. The radio is alive with waterbombers working overtime.
You fly to a mountain strip to enjoy some cool air. At 3000ft
there is a little cement strip, slightly longer than 2000ft, perched on the side of a clift. You come in to land, bouncing on final in the hot air. You park on the dry grass among microlights, 172s, a Comanche, an Islander. A stroll in the woods, a cold beer, lunch. Siesta in the shade. Late afternoon you watch the others take off, study how much runway they use. The "cool air" is 32°C. You are the last to leave. An encouraging pat on the little C152's spinner. Line up right at the end of the runway, flaps, mixture to
best power, brakes, full throttle, off you go. Let her run. Speed creeping up, runway disappearing. No-go point coming up, passing by, speed nearly right, she'll fly, okay pull. Into the air, stall warning, lower nose slightly, hold her down, keep her steady, runway behind us, nose down and dive into the valley, speed building up and we finally climb away. Purring flight home in the evening sun.
It's a long hot summer in Italy and the flying is beautiful.
AE
You fly to a mountain strip to enjoy some cool air. At 3000ft
there is a little cement strip, slightly longer than 2000ft, perched on the side of a clift. You come in to land, bouncing on final in the hot air. You park on the dry grass among microlights, 172s, a Comanche, an Islander. A stroll in the woods, a cold beer, lunch. Siesta in the shade. Late afternoon you watch the others take off, study how much runway they use. The "cool air" is 32°C. You are the last to leave. An encouraging pat on the little C152's spinner. Line up right at the end of the runway, flaps, mixture to
best power, brakes, full throttle, off you go. Let her run. Speed creeping up, runway disappearing. No-go point coming up, passing by, speed nearly right, she'll fly, okay pull. Into the air, stall warning, lower nose slightly, hold her down, keep her steady, runway behind us, nose down and dive into the valley, speed building up and we finally climb away. Purring flight home in the evening sun.
It's a long hot summer in Italy and the flying is beautiful.
AE
Half of the UK has already moved to Spain. Ask yourself whether you want the other half to come to Italy 
