It's that time of year again.. I think as I hurriedly load the Thrush. I'm loading in the dark, which is nothing new, but this morning the load is just a bag of clothes, and a few tool boxes of spares. I just get everything opened up and the rain starts.... gonna be one of those mornings
Left home early enough this morning to be taxiing out to the pad by 02:30... Damn, I'm late...
It was driven home when I saw the dim pair of obstruction lights coming over Telegraph pass. Dog gone it, Dan was coming over the hill for our rendezvous / departure time to put us at Gallup at sunup.
The goal was to be in Central Iowa this evening, and battling the afternoon build up in the big rocks of Colorado is just no longer fun to either of us.
Pulling on the pad I scramble out of the Thrush and drag out the fuel hose. rats... Someone left the valve on, and the pump has lost it's prime. I stuff the hose into the left wing, wedge the handle open with the gas cap and start jumping on the hose. The first jump goes swell, but no joy... the second rolls my ankle, and I start cussing at it, on the third the hose hick up's, belches and farts all at once as my petroleum resuscitation kicks in to gear! Success ! Ahhh shit... The hose jumps as it loads up with jet A and the nozzle slides out of the wing WFO...spraying the wing with jet A.... Nice... Guess the first leg of the morning's gonna be a smelly one

when are we going to get the single point back on line I stammer... Filled up on the left side I slip under the nose and hop up on the right wheel and start in on the right tank.... I hate early morning limbo routines...
Now the pad is all lit up, and I look up to see Dan taunting me with a turn light as he orbits .... with max legs planned he is not going to be amused with the hold up...
Fueled up, pump off, fuel valve OFF, I scramble around the plane one last time. In the plane, a quick look around the cockpit, and everything looks good. Oh jeeez... I can't remember the key sequence to get the FM over to talkabout... We're NORDO and talkabout allows the FM to come off the repeater so we can communicate the whole way there. Almost on que, as soon as I get the radio sorted out, Dan comes on line "Any time you're ready Slick!"... Really? Ok..I deserved it... But really? It's flipping 02:40 for Petes sake...
I love flying an empty Thrush, and an empty Thrush at 3am is even better

Pouring the coals on I point it east and let her run. With the ceiling and rain there's no point in climbing for a while...
Dan comes on over the FM and asks what the plan is? This is cursory small talk really, as Dan has more trans continentals in Ag a/c from flying fires than most anyone I know... but I humor him none the less... "well, I figure straight shot to Poco Dinero ranch where we oughta be able to see Phoenix, if it's good by then we'll go to 11.5 and let Deer Valley slide under the right wing followed by Payson, and Holbrook under the left, Kit Carson for more Go juice oughta get us enough to get there in three legs..."

Thrush looking lost at eleven five
Dan : "Kinda long on the last leg don't ya think?"
Bonehead rob : " We'll be legal... Besides no sense in showing up to spray their stuff full of our gas"
Landing Gallup proves to be a mess, FBO's all tore up, remodeling or some such. Fortunately Wiseman has taken over, because we're late... A lesser crew would have gone back home and made us pay a second call out fee.

Gallup gas and go
Leavin Gallup I point us straight for Chama, which again takes no navigational wizardry, and is also conducive to my vhf radio habits... Or lack thereof... The same heading at 11.5 slides you right through La Veta Pass with ease...
The wind gods are either truly pleased, or more likely just really pissed at someone else and have forgotten us, because we are now clocking a buck seventy across the ground and the mid day build up on the eastern slope is not even going to stand a chance at messin with us... Burlington, here we come

Open mouth insert sock... The wind sock that is.... How does this happen? The flipping wind at Burlington is 90 degrees off the runway and blowing 20+... Whatever... Don't they know this ain't Kansas ?At least we know we don't have to be on the look out for the local aggie...

Kit Carson hot fuel
The last leg is overcast and has us VFR over the top for longer than I'd like, something about a polar express or some jibberish... but the wind difference below the clouds and above them was astonishing. Since fuel is tight on this one I elect to fly the better wind, I hate the choice, mostly because I've lost that gamble before, but this time the bet paid off. Twenty five out it turns blue bird and five miles short of the strip the fuel lights hit Bingo... Perfect timing, perfect Wx and a good 8+/- hr run out. I'll take it as a good omen for our season. Marty?
Pulling in to my standard 1/4 mile final it occurs to me that this place must have four seasons.... But to us that come for a few short weeks every year it seems to be locked in time, never changing... A green sea of corn and soybeans. Good Lord this place is a sleeper of a Supercub play ground.... someday I say... for the mean time it'll be sun up till sundown running... yeaahh baby the vampires finally get some daylight work
Take care, Rob