
Claudette was there, studying for her checkout in the Grumman that has just returned to service, and she fetched Tom, who was still busy fixing something.
He told me I was right that the brake was broken, and reached into the trash can in the shop to show me a length of steel cable that had frayed and eventually snapped. :o
I'm so glad sometimes that I'm basically a coward...

He'd fixed it at French Valley, then flew it back with Allen, who is on the round side, up front.
It went OK until they tried to land- to do a 3-pointer in that plane, you have to pull the stick all the way back- right into your body- at the right moment. Well, if your belly tends to get in the way at such moments, you may find you have to go around a few times and eventually wheel it on.
There was nothing Tom, who is thin as a rail, could do about it, because the two sticks are linked. Great story; I wish I'd been there. But on the ground, watching.

I've got at least one more weekend here in this sunny Shangri-La By the Sea, so I booked the Champ for a block Sunday morning.
If anybody wants to look at the Los Angeles sectional and suggest a 200-mile round trip that doesn't involve flying over mountains or more than two miles of water, I'm open to suggestions... :)