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I am just back from Taos. The place is nothing to write about: a retreat for world-weary artists and the closest decent airport for skiing in Red River. A couple of bizjets, couple of Mooneys, a Saratoga, an L-39 and a Bonanza tucked into a corner of a bizjet-sized hangar, and a bunch of spam cans herded separately into long-term ghetto tiedowns.

But on the way back I made a stop in Santa Fe, and that was madness. I ended sitting in a run-up pocket more than 20 minutes while controller sorted arrivals. I saw another L-39, a USAF VIP jet, an AT-6 Texan, and a MiG-15 (pictured) landing, and numerous small craft, not to mention departing American RJ that pushed me off into the pocket in the first place. One local trainer Cessna cleverly cut me off in line, another had the decency to get behind me into the pocket.

When I landed, I missed a couple of turn-offs, enough for the controller to remark about it, so perhaps this was my punishment.

Posted by: Pete Zaitcev at 02:39 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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