Short Final: Potholes


Years ago when it was one of those typical Midwest spring days where the turbulence was ferocious down low, but the headwinds seemingly doubled for every thousand feet of altitude. We were south of Chicago in a Warrior westbound at 4000 feet, talking to South Bend Approach, when our passengers started turning green. Reluctantly, I asked for 6000 feet.

After a few minutes at 6000, South Bend asked if the ride was any better at six.

Me: “Well … at least the potholes are further apart.”

As the controller came on frequency to acknowledge my response, I could hear a lot of laughter in the background.

Verne Wiese

Beavercreek, OH

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