Good showing for a Friday. Local dung flies leave the
manure heap at the base of the slope, and congregate around the
stench emanating from the photographer.
Simon squeezes out what he thought would be a silent windy pop,
Jim's fart-o-meter instantly alerts him to the social faux pas and
he gives Simon a thirty second death stare of fatherly disapproval
(insert tired gag about man flying a
very small model)
meanwhile at the summit, the Sherpas take a break
waiting for the wind to drop (again)
Gary's Mig has sat in a box unflown for Four years....today's the day!
checking the gyro...
meanwhile the Minimoa migrates from the mound
'no pictures, no pictures!'
vintage glider jousting
Mig away! the rapid flight pattern is made very exciting by gyro induced speed wobbles