Who Goes Flying When It Is 108 Degrees Out!?

So who on earth would go flying when it's 108 degrees out? Uh, yeah, I guess that would be me. My parents were visiting, and I'd been hoping to take dad with me on one of my flying lessons. He's pretty darn spry for his age, but sticking him in the back seat of a plane during our 108 degree heat wave didn't seem like a win.

It didn't seem that great for me or my instructor, but at least we'd have wind blowing on us from the vents, and we were at least getting to do something besides riding along. So, stupid as it seems, we went up in this insane heat, leaving dad to hang out at Planes of Fame.

Planes of Fame is an amazing museum of historical aircraft; unfortunately, after I sent dad down there, I discovered that only the gift shop and front room were airconditioned. I never would've let him stay out in that heat (I'd given him the car keys and suggested he go home with the AC on), but I was off flying, so I guess I don't get much say. He spent an hour wandering through the hangers of airplanes, with no obvious ill effects. I guess he is a pretty tough old guy!

Anyway, the Piper Warrior I normally fly was not available, as it had apparently blown a head gasket in the heat. Instead, we went up in a similar Piper Cherokee which was just one year younger than me. I'm a little bummed about that, as it was definitely in better condition than me, with far fewer scratches and dents, and an interior which looks nearly new (if not very fashionable).

We went up, practiced instrument flying (I did much worse than usual, but blame it on the new plane), did a few touch-and-goes to get me used to the new plane, and headed in to find dad comfortably hanging out at the school, waiting for me. Again, it was too bad he couldn't go up with me, but at least he got to see what I was up to...