KCMI to K24 to KCMI--3.4 hours

I left Champaign about 4:15. Winds were about 150 @ 7. The purpose of this trip was to fly down to Jamestown, KY and pick up my grandparents. I was to bring them back for my little cousin Lars' baptism. The weather along my route was supposed to be scattered layers of clouds between 4,000 and 7,000 feet, so I filed for 5,000. Figured I'd split the difference. Radar also showed a smattering of what appeared to be isolated thunderstorms building to the northeast of Louisville. I'd have to keep an eye on the Nexrad to make sure they didn't start popping up any closer.

At Champaign the clouds were on the high end, but the further I went the lower they got. Eventually, about Terre Haute, I was punching in and out of the bottoms of some fairly good sized cumulus. That's always fun. At 5,000 feet you really don't get a sensation of how fast you're going over the ground. But fly through a cloud and you're quickly reminded you're scootin'.

Just before I popped into one cloud I got a glimpse of my plane's shadow perfectly silhouetted on the fluffy white. I kicked myself, again, for not having my camera. Another wasted Kodak moment came as I skirted a buildup that, on Nexrad anyway, was indicating it might be a thunderstorm. When it finally came into view it wasn't nearly as intimidating as the radar was letting on. And my stormscope stayed dark. I still wasn't going to fly through it. Even in its relatively diminished state, the big cloud was probably a good 6,000 feet tall. And lightning or no, big cumulus clouds can still rock your butt. But from the safety of about 5 miles away, with the setting sun lighting up its western face it looked more beautiful than threatening.

After passing the brute, I punched through a few more poofies and into clear skies on the other side. About 60 NW of K24, I canceled IFR with Indy Center but asked for flight following for a little further. A check of the K24 AWOS indicated near perfect conditions on the ground at Jamestown. Winds were calm, skies were clear and the temperature was a very pleasant 75 degrees or so.

I made a left midfield entry to the downwind for runway 17. Mainly so I could fly over the ramp and verify grandma and grandpa were waiting. I saw their car, so that was good. After greasing one on, even if I do say so myself, I pulled up to the ramp to find the car gone and no grandparents. They had apparently been waiting at the airport since 5. It was 6:15. At 80+, they really don't like to wait around for much. Turns out they'd left their house before dad could give them my new arrival time. Plus, my grandmother has a very morbid imagination and had, I knew, assumed the worst. She was probably bugging aunt Kievel to drive them to a phone so should could call and learn of her grandson's demise.

The heck of it is, I FLEW RIGHT OVER THE TOP OF THEM. I thought for sure they had seen me. Turns out they had, but grandpa said, "That's not him. He's too high." (sigh) I called dad, told them they'd driven off just as I got there. He said to sit tight. They'd be back as soon as grandma had confirmed I wasn't dead yet.

When they did return, I hurriedly loaded them into the plane. The entire time grandma was asking, "Are you sure we have enough gas to get back? I've heard at least three news stories about planes going down . . . " "Grandma, we're fine. Please get in the plane." Grandpa just sat in the backseat shaking his head.

My troubles didn't end there. I had to perform a very difficult hot start which took at least two or three attempts before the engine finally caught. Of all the passengers for it to happen with, it had to be my grandmother who was already doubtful about our fuel situation. Surprisingly, she didn't say anything except to ask if it needed to cool down a little before we tried to start it again.

As I lined up on 35 the sun was just sinking behind the horizon. We took off into clear skies. Climbing out of Jamestown I picked up my clearance from Indy Center. A nice tailwind and "best economy" power setting at 6,500 feet ensured I'd have 17 gal left when we landed at Champaign. "See grandma? We're going to make it."

The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful. Winds were a little more brisk at Champaign and I could tell on downwind for runway 14L we were getting pushed along at a pretty good clip. I knew I'd have to crank in a little extra bank on base to keep the pattern nice and tight. It was a pretty weird sensation turning from base to final. The conveyor belt of lights that had been moving pretty quickly below the plane slowed to a near crawl all in a matter of about 5 seconds as I put the nose back into the wind. It made for a mild sense of vertigo.

The landing wasn't my best. I bounced it. I guess they can't all be greasers. The funny thing was, mid-bounce grandma patted my arm and said, "That was a very nice flight Larry." I thought, "Thanks grandma, but it's not exactly over yet." The 2nd landing was better, punctuated with that very satisfying "chirp, chirp".

As I pulled up to Flightstar to unload the grandparents, Laurie was there waiting to help. I was very glad to see her. That's actually the scariest part of flying with my grandparents--getting them in and out of the plane. Thankfully, nobody tumbled off a wing.

After I put away the plane and dad retrieved Mode and Eli, Laurie and I went home. The whole way back I was kicking myself about bouncing the landing. Nothing sticks in a pilot's craw more than a less than perfect landing. You could have conducted the rest of the flight flawlessly and by the book, but you bounce a landing and it ruins the whole thing. Laurie has seen obsess about this kind of thing before and is always quick to remind me to get over it. While it may not have been a good landing to me, the passengers didn't complain or scream out in terror. So just live with it. I suppose. Still, if I'd just . . .