My editor phoned me at home one evening in the late ’90s and asked me if I was interested in flying with the Snowbirds for an hour or two. When I said of course I was, she told me to get on the next ferry to Vancouver Island, check in at CFB Comox where I’d spend the night, and the next morning have fun.
We flew in formation, we went straight up and straight down, we flopped over upside down, and at times our wings seemed to almost touch the ones beside us. At one point the pilot told me that he wanted a closer look at a fishing boat down below and told me to take the handle and do it. So I did. For several seconds, I was in control of a Snowbird all by myself, taking it down closer to the water.
And although he warned me beforehand that many guests lose their lunch at some point and showed me where the barf bags were in the cockpit, I didn’t need them. Very proud about that.