Ricken Schmicken

You know how sometimes you just can't figure something out, it worked before but it's not working now no matter what you do, even if you know you're doing it right, and you know it could be something stupid you are missing, but if it is it is escaping you? So you wait and you wait until you have convinced yourself that it couldn't possibly be you, and you finally call in help, and as soon as help arrives, whatever did not work for you works for them right off the bat and they did the same thing you did? Yeah, well, here's one for you to enjoy.

At the Poker Run, we were all sitting there, and Nathan pipes up with "Go on out, and if you can get the T-6 started I'll hop in the back and we'll go fly." If not, I have to come back and sit down in embarrassment. (This T-6 is hard-ish to start/keep running.) Up for the challenge, I wander my way out there, climb in, spend all that time buckling up in confidence that I'll need it, get everything set up and ready to go, and all I have left to do is prime it and fire it up. I pull out the primer and get no fuel. Not a big deal, the first 3-4 shots are usually 'empty'. Five or six shots in, I'm still not getting any fuel. I work the wobble pump some more just to be very sure I've got fuel, I pull out the primer and stare at it, I go very slowly, I do everything I can think of. No fuel. I bite my lip, look around, poke it with my finger, try the wobble pump again-yep, getting a rise in fuel pressure-try the primer again. Nada. I tried the primer 30 times, I tried everything I could think of, I tried asking it nicely and I tried telling it not so nicely. Finally I have to concede defeat. It runs too lean anyway, and without the prime there's no chance it'll start. Charlie Brier drives over in his golf cart, and I mumble "I can't get the primer to work". Steve wanders over, and I repeat "I can't get the primer to work." Nathan walks up, hops on the wing, leans in the cockpit, pulls out the primer twice, AND IT WORKS. The bloody blasted thing WORKS.

If I could have hopped up and down in indignation I would have, but I was too securely belted in. Before Steve could even open his mouth, I said something along the lines of "GO AWAY, Get out of here, Don't talk." and he wisely exited the premises. The plane belched and rattled and banged and barely ran for awhile, but finally it settled in and away we went. The rest of the flight made up for the ignominious start. I stuck to the centerline for once, and made an okay landing, and of course the flying around for almost an hour in between on a beautiful day was quite fun. I had to put up with a little harassment, but that's the name of the game. ;)

So why am I sharing this story? Because Nathan may have figured out why it did that to me, and if he's right, there is an actual reason, it would be easily worked around, and I'm only partially the moron I felt like for awhile there. ;)

Seriously, isn't that the way it goes?? *sigh*