Did I say Phoenix?

Well, I meant to say Tuscon. That was today's destination. Out again early, blast off at 8AM for a little over a four hour flight. The land at Midland is flat and desolate and dry and that is the way the scenery starts out, then it starts to get bumps, not unlike skin eruptions, then it turns to billowing hills and finally there are jagged mountains. But most of all, there are few, very few roads and towns and even individual dwellings. It is mostly a vast wasteland. All of a sudden you will see a very green field which looks so out of place in this yellow ochre land.

At one point, we all crowd into the cockpit to see El Paso/Juarez. This is a huge built up area and the only town of any size we have seen all day. Finally we pass over a mountain ridge and there in the next valley is Tuscon. The first thing I notice is acres and acres of airplanes. Found out later that this is where old airplanes go to die.

When we emerged from the plane in Tuscon, the first thing I noticed is that all my hair had blown into my face, there was a stiff wind. Second thing was that is was very temperate, the temperature was quite pleasant. There is a lot of military action here and the first thing I see flying by is a GIANT helicopter with two rotors not lined up from to back but on goal post like arms to the sides. Next four military jets swoop in so very gracefully one after the other, very loudly too, I might mention. The ground crew was out there in numbers and so very helpful, so we were handing out hats and giving tours. Two, obviously wealthy, men from a near by jet also tour and are complimentary also.

Upon returning from the necessary visit to the facilities, Gene is in animated conversation with what I thought was a member of the ground crew as if he knows him. Turns out it is Eric Gorrell, Fred's son who works at another FBO and saw us come over. He calls his Dad and his uncle Dave to tell them who he is with. Turns out Gene was telling him about flying with the two of them the week before. Dave and his wife will join us in S.F.

The ground crew ferried us and our luggage to the FBO where we were picked up by a hotel shuttle. That shuttle also delivered us to the Pima Air and Space Museum, which is the reason for selecting this particular destination. The photos in shown here are of our fellow travelers pictured with the planes they flew in combat in Viet Nam. Makes you take a step back, stop and think about what these happy go lucky guys have been through in their lives. Gene tells me that my cousin Betty's Ken has three Distinguished Flying Crosses from that conflict. Good grief!!

The museum is huge, several hangers and a lot of planes outside. It is very well done. The guys are in heaven. They also have a cafe, to our relief, as the one in the hotel is only open in the evening. They have cleverly positioned the planes, some big ones on stands of about three feet so smaller ones will nestle under their wings, some hanging above. Outside, the wind continues, sometimes steady, sometimes like a sandstorm.

Peggy's brother lives here and he has joined us at the museum. She then leaves with him to spend the evening with his family. The remaining 5 meet later in the hotel restaurant for food, drinks, and, you guess it, more flying stories. After awhile I leave and am soon asleep. The extra two hours added by time change has made this a very long day. I think it was around 8 when I crashed. The good news is that we do not meet tomorrow until 9AM. Good thing as we will be on a tight schedule after that.