I Didn't Know at The Time, But . . .

Every weekend, squadrons of ill informed and marginally proficient private pilots were marched past the little Flight Service Station. Their aeroplanes, specially fitted with flea market radios and failing transponders, awaited them. Soon they would lift off and disperse into marginally VFR skies for an afternoon of tormenting the air traffic controllers.

© NLA Factor, 2010

No comments: