Night Before Christmas Gearhead Style

Tuesday, December 25th, 2012

Twas the night before Christmas, in the garage of every Gearhead

Ducatis glowed brightly, desmodromic valves in their heads

The muscle car collections were polished and gleamed

Vintage Ferraris dreamt of v12 shrieks and screams

Their owners were ensconced safely in the warmth of inside

Dreaming of future drives, races and rides

Mama in her Laguna Seca hoodie and me in my Dunlop racing cap

Had settled in front of the tv to watch a TopGear season recap

When out in the driveway we heard such a noise

I jumped from the sofa expecting to see the Hep Cat boys

Away to the front door I streaked like Ol’ Blue

Flung it wide open not sure what would ensue

The moon and the stars shone down from on high

Illuminating all which below them did lie

And what I saw I could not quite understand

‘Twas a large man in a sleigh, reindeer reins in his hand

The driver himself was in obvious distress

When he saw me he cried out “can you believe what a mess?”

“The breechings are broken, the belly-band’s busted”

“The runners I’m afraid are just too badly rusted

Children all over will have their hearts broken

The words are so sad, I never thought they’d be spoken

But if I can’t find a way to fix this darn sleigh

There will be no presents on this Christmas day

Think of the hearts of little girls and boys

Just think how sad they’ll be without presents and toys

Oh what will I do, how could it come to this?

They’ll never trust me again, I’ve been so remiss”

It’s said that necessity is the mother of invention

But in this moment I stood not on convention

Reindeer pull Santa’s sleigh six hundred miles per hour

But Christmas this year will be delivered by horsepower

To my cell phone I ran with an idea so ingenious

I called every car club and told them just where to meet us

Within minutes exhaust notes echoed through the hills

Thousands of cylinders eliciting thrills

Alfas, and Mustangs, Hemi ‘Cudas and Bugattis

Ferraris and Cobras, Indians, Harleys, Ducatis

Elvas, and Z-Cars, Porsches, Healeys too

Saw the sleigh in my driveway, they knew just what to do

Each pilot pulled driving gloves on to their hands

Each engine rev’d eagerly for the task now at hand

They knew not to tarry they dared not to stumble

For the fate of this Christmas lie on V8 rumble

The 25th of December is a very special day

Not for presents or ribbons, or Santa’s swift sleigh

The reasons we celebrate do not need to be told

Are for lessons we know to be true, young and old

It’s not about getting cash presents and prizes

That’s not what the meaning of Christmas comprises

It’s not how much you spend on presents under the tree

The real joy in this season is so easy to see

When we all join together to help one another

As brother and sister, as father and mother

There is only one thing we are certainly sure of

What binds us together is quite simply love

Old Santa himself was all laughter and smiles

And I let him drive my Lotus the last five hundred miles

“I sure miss Rudolph and Blitzen and Dancer

But I bet the Milky Way’s a blast in that Mitsubishi Lancer”

The children of the world never stirred from their beds

Despite the roaring of engines so close to their beds

They never saw the tracks in snow left by the tire treads

Or know that Christmas that year was saved by Gearheads

Merry Christmas and Stay on the throttle!

Night Before Christmas

Tuesday, December 25th, 2012

T’was the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp,
Not an airplane was stirring, not even a Champ.
The aircraft were fastened to tie downs with care,
In hopes that — come morning — they all would be there.

The fuel trucks were nestled, all snug in their spots,
With gusts from two-forty at 39 knots.
I slumped at the fuel desk, now finally caught up,
And settled down comfortably, resting my butt.

When the radio lit up with noise and with chatter,
I turned up the scanner to see what was the matter.
A voice clearly heard over static and snow,
Called for clearance to land at the airport below.

He barked his transmission so lively and quick,
I’d have sworn that the call sign he used was “St. Nick.”
I ran to the panel to turn up the lights,
The better to welcome this magical flight.

He called his position, no room for denial,
“St. Nicholas One, turnin’ left onto final.”
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Rutan-built sleigh, with eight Rotax Reindeer!

With vectors to final, down the glideslope he came,
As he passed all fixes, he called them by name:
“Now Ringo! Now Tolga! Now Trini and Bacun!
On Comet! On Cupid!” What pills was he takin’?

While controllers were sittin’, and scratchin’ their heads,
They phoned to my office, and I heard it with dread,
The message they left was both urgent and dour:
“When Santa pulls in, have him please call the tower.”

He landed like silk, with the sled runners sparking,
Then I heard, “Left at Charlie,” and “Taxi to parking.”
He slowed to a taxi, turned off of three-oh,
And stopped on the ramp with a “Ho, ho-ho-ho…”

He stepped out of the sleigh, but before he could talk,
I ran out to meet him with my best set of chocks.
His red helmet and goggles were covered with frost,
And his beard was all blackened from Reindeer exhaust.

His breath smelled like peppermint, gone slightly stale,
And he puffed on a pipe, but he didn’t inhale.
His cheeks were all rosy and jiggled like jelly,
His boots were as black as a cropduster’s belly.

He was chubby and plump, in his suit of bright red,
And he asked me to “fill it, with hundred low-lead.”
He came dashing in from the snow-covered pump,
I knew he was anxious for drainin’ the sump.

I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
And I filled up the sleigh, but I spilled like a jerk.
He came out of the restroom, and sighed in relief,
Then he picked up a phone for a Flight Service brief.

And I thought as he silently scribed in his log,
These reindeer could land in an eighth-mile fog.
He completed his pre-flight, from the front to the rear,
Then he put on his headset, and I heard him yell, “Clear!”

And laying a finger on his push-to-talk,
He called up the tower for clearance and squawk.
“Take taxiway Charlie, the southbound direction,
Turn right three-two-zero at pilot’s discretion”

He sped down the runway, the bestof the best,
“Your traffic’s a Grumman, inbound from the west.”
Then I heard him proclaim, as he climbed through the night,
“Merry Christmas to all! I have traffic in sight.”

“Never run out of airspeed, altitude and ideas at the same time”

Lost Log Books

Tuesday, December 18th, 2012

Here is an informative article on lost log books and how they affect aircraft values.  Click here for article.

Miata vs MINI Roadster Cooper S

Monday, December 17th, 2012

Click here for story on AutoGuide.com

F-18 Crash Caught On Video

Monday, December 17th, 2012

Click here for video and story on AVweb

Wooden Car

Monday, December 17th, 2012

What happens when a wood boat builder decides to build a car – click here to find out.

Kettenkrad article from The Kneeslider

Monday, December 17th, 2012

Here is a short article on the Kettenkrad from The Kneeslider

Tags: motorcycle, kettenkrad

406 ELT Info

Friday, November 30th, 2012

Here is some general information on the new 406 ELT from a FAA website.  Click here for the document.

406 ELT Requirements

Friday, November 30th, 2012

February 1 2013 the Bahamas will require all aircraft to have the new 406 ELT installed and Mexico will follow in June 2013.  You will not be allowed to fly in those countries unless you have the new type ELT installed.

Human Powered Helicopter

Friday, November 30th, 2012

Engineering students of all levels, Freshman through PhD, at the University of Maryland’s Clark School of Engineering and Alfred Gessow Rotorcraft Center are working on a  human powered helicopter.  Click here for full story.