On my way up to Paso Robles to take my flight test I decided to hold the Elph out the little window to circumvent the problem of shooting through scratched plexiglas. A piece of advice: hold very tightly to your camera if you try this. There is a good deal more wind than you might suppose and I nearly lost the camera. That would have been typical.
By way of a short follow up to my previous post on the test: the story of a flight log. My grandfather’s enlistment in the Royal Canadian Flying Corps for the tail end of the First World War was a major source of entertainment for me as a child. There were photos to be examined, letters to be read, and most interesting of all a small yellow book with a leather clasp that contained all his flight data. A log book from the First World War probably only counts as an historical document in my melodramatic mind, but I got a real thrill as I flew up to Paso Robles knowing it was in my pocket. The last time that book left the ground in a single engine airplane, the plane was slow, ungainly, fragile and well armed. I made shooting noises as I flew up. Several planes took damage from my bullets, along with some farm houses and a VOR.
When I passed the test I asked the examiner to sign me off in my grandfather’s log as well as my own. Colin just had the same examiner sign the log for him. Hopefully I will not have to pry the book from his fingers as it is one of my treasured possessions.