“Well lets head back in,” I urgently replied.
He eyed the gauges. “One more round.”
“Okay.” I stuck my head out the window and clicked the shutter button with lightening speed. I popped my head back into the cockpit. “I’m done.” (In my defense I’m not a fume flyer, and I already had over two hundred photos.)
Steve nodded and flew toward the runway. Suddenly, he put the plane in a barrel roll. “What are you doing!” I cried from an upside down position. “What about the fuel?” (I was sure the av-gas was nowhere near the engine where I wanted it.)
“I’m stirring the tanks.” Steve laughed. “How about a slip?”
“I just did a slip last week,” I assured him as he lowered the left wing sharply toward land. (Wonderful, now our short supply of fuel was sloshing somewhere in the wingtip.)
My funny and amused pilot righted the plane and set it on the runway. It reminded me to be thankful for the Lord’s Angels whom I prayed for prior to the flight.