He Who Dies With the Most Toys

The Grate Has Seen Better Days

It has been said that “He who dies with the most toys, wins.” It has also been said that “He who dies with the most toys is still dead.”

Did you ever wonder if all the toys that you have accumulated still work? I thought I had a lot of toys but now have my doubts. My family and I came up to Big Bear for the week before our winter vacation was over. It was a chance to let my wife and son take skiing lessons (while I shooshed down the slopes). I signed them up for lessons, two each at two hours, and then arranged for equipment rentals. I had bought a pair of skis, poles and boots at a garage sale that I thought would work for my wife, Hsien-Ling, but thought it better to rent a set for her first time. We found out the boots didn’t fit anyway but would worry about the skis and poles later. As for me, I was all set. I thought.

When we were trying everything on before going to sign up, (when we found out Hsien-Ling’s boots wouldn’t fit), I broke one of the straps on my boots. That was one out of two. Since all the straps were the same vintage and made out of the same plastic…. Hmmmmm. Ok, I’ll rent boots, no sense buying a set at peak retail to use once every other year. But then the rentals didn’t fit my skis. The shop wouldn’t adjust the bindings because of their age, and new bindings would be about $300. At least I don’t have to rent poles. Maybe I can sell them all at a garage sale. That is more than I could do with the tent that I tried to put up last month and found that the top was rotten.

And Now We Have Chains

So how many other toys that adorn my garage are of the same quality? As the fable goes: A lump of gold and a gold-painted-rock are of the same value if you only want to look at them. So I think: “He who dies with the most toys, probably never had enough time to use them all.”

Searching for clouds

Me, Don, Ed, Mac and Chuck and the 206

Today, four buddies and I took off at 0-dark-thirty to fly to Prescott to get our bi-annual flight physicals. We all live here at the airport and all fly different kinds of planes. Ed has a Debonair; Don, a Mooney; Mac, a Sierra; and Chuck has two RV-6s that he built himself. Today we took my Cessna U206 since it has six seats.

What a beautifully smooth flight. We were surprised to see no snow on the Hualapai Mountains near Kingman. There was only a smattering of snow on the peaks to the south also. Although we didn’t see much snow, we did see a few trails that would be fun to cycle or hike in the summer time.

In less than an hour we were there, way too early for our appointments. The temperature was a nippy 24 degrees F. Flight Service said -5C. Cold however you say it, especially in the shade. BBBrrrrrrrrr. We all wanted coffee just to warm up our hands, so we went first to the airport coffee shop. Breakfast was an afterthought. It was pretty reasonably priced as well.

Getting back to the plane was interesting as we had to go through a locked gate and none of us bothered to remember the code that was printed on the other side. With a little help we made it through and were able to taxi ourselves to the other side of the airport to Ritt-Aire where Dr. Ritter has his practice. The Doc is an old friend of mine from Bullhead City. He used to have the only clinic in town, many years ago. We reminisced about old friends as I got my physical. We all passed, even Chuck, who will be 90 this November. He is also the only one of us that doesn't wear glasses.

The flight home was actually slightly longer even though we were going downhill. We skirted some mountains rather than skimming the top in order to avoid the bumps. As I skimmed it onto the runway there was a great round of applause. Whether it was for my landing or for getting them back alive they wouldn't say. One thing I have to say, though, it is a lot easier to push the plane back up into the hangar with five people than it is with only me.