From: The
Gone Flyin' website
WARM RASPBERRY
PIE
August 4, 2004
One lunchtime
several summers ago... once upon a time when it didn't
rain every day... the conversation momentarily lapsed.
Almost on cue, one of the more dedicated pilots spoke
up, stating that he was certain that if it wasn't for
his little airplane, he would starve to death. Most of
the guys at the table recognized this as an
exaggeration, but everyone else pondered for a moment.
On a good week, more than a third of their meals were
coming at the end of an airplane ride.
Most of the fly-
around gang is retired, and they gather quite regularly,
just like so many other groups gather over coffee
everywhere else. The threads of several conversations
can run concurrently, and carry on for a week or more.
Talk of the weather has a bit more significance to these
guys, and there is always some aspect of the day's
flying to talk about. Over all though, coffee
conversation is pretty much the same wherever you go,
and however you get there.
Any talk of a new
place to fly for breakfast or lunch is always more
important than any other topic. To hear the guys talk,
you would think that they were refugees, street urchins
or post- Armageddon survivors; conversations regarding
new places to find food carry a nervous sense of
urgency.
Most of these old
crows have been flying around this area for decades, and
of course they know all the places that are available.
It is always reassuring however, to know that farther
afield a good meal can be had in Cooperstown or that the
restaurant at Wyoming Valley has reopened. I found it
amusing that this summer, while we've all been scanning
the distant horizon for signs of a friendly campfire,
good pickins' have appeared right in our back
yard.
On a ridge
northeast of Prattsburg, truly in the middle of nowhere,
the Speckled Hen Restaurant has opened for business ...
just around the corner from a private airstrip that had
recently become available to us. Such a happy
coincidence is about as rare an event as the conjunction
that guided the Wise Men to Jerusalem. Larry was the
first to find out about it, and he had to pinch himself
to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
A week ago Sunday
I had a wonderful morning, starting with a breakfast at
Middlesex. I flew to Weedsport for a mid-morning coffee
and then flew to Prattsburg for dessert. I had stayed
far too long at my first two stops, and despite an
ambitious start on the day, I was running late. I
worried that I wouldn't arrive in time to have the slice
of pie that I was promising myself.
In calm air under
a blue sky, the plane swished into the grass at
Prattsburg and almost in one motion I parked the plane
and started hiking down the road. I walked through the
door a minute before closing time and asked if I could
get a slice of pie to go. The waitress replied that I
could have whatever I wanted, any way I wanted. I hate
to inconvenience people, but the greeting was so
friendly that I sat down and selected the red raspberry
pie from their list of choices. I accepted their offer
to warm it up, and I accepted the offer of whipped cream
on top. When I was asked about a beverage I replied that
a large glass of milk would be good.
I watched the
staff as they subtly made the shift from serving meals
to cleaning up, and I looked around this new restaurant.
It is a freshly restored farm house which probably
should have been razed instead of repaired. I am told
that just two years ago, a visitor entering the front
door would have looked right down into the cellar. Today
it is as "cute as a bug", inside and out.
Sunday was a long
awaited fantasy day for me. I always talk of "wasting
half the day in the airplane" and on this day, that is
exactly what I did. I traveled around and found a slice
of heaven just down the road from a quiet country
airport.
Click Here to
view the Gone Flyin'
website.
