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runaway plane

Poul & I flew in to Bar Harbor this afternoon. He taxied his small excellent plane to the parking area for private aircraft. We both got out and took a look around. There was a beautiful misty salty air and a slight breeze coming in from the sea.

But before he’d had a chance to tie it down, the plane started rolling backwards. Poul peered over at me on the other side and said, “Stop it with your leg until I get a chance to tie down the wings.”

So I did. I stuck out my leg and stopped it from rolling backwards.