....yellow jackets! That's right. And no, I'm not a fighter pilot. I'm a private pilot, who was taking off from French Valley Airport, after having lunch at the French Valley Cafe.
It was Saturday, June 2, 20012. For those who believe in such things, the poor service that I'd received at the restaurant that day may have been an omen. Well, probably not.
At any rate, my rented Cessna 182 was just reaching rotation speed (the speed at which the nose is raised for take off) when it (and I) seemed to pass through a sudden snow storm. Given that this was Southern California in June, that seemed unlikely.
In reality, a swarm of yellow jackets had decided to take off from runway 36. I was using runway 18.
Although momentarily startled, I managed to concentrate on flying the airplane. The big Continental engine was running smoothly. The engine instruments were giving normal indications. Most importantly, I could still see through the windshield, as the propeller had done a good job of mincing up my "attackers".
Did I mention that, luckily, none of the creatures wound up inside the cabin?
The flight back to my home airport in the Riverside area was uneventful.
Once the airplane was refueled and tied down, I had the unenviable task of cleaning the insect body fragments from the leading edges of the wings, the struts, and from the windshield.
Isn't flying fun?
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