This is the difficult season, and summertime's quick trips to the airport are now akin to arctic expeditions. Airplane engines are not amenable to cold weather starting, and the airplane's small wheels are easily thwarted by just a few inches of heavy snow. Getting from a cold start to the end of the runway is winter flying's biggest challenge at an airport like Dundee. Preparing for a wintertime flight means bringing a kerosene heater and a short piece of ductwork, a battery charger, an extension cord, a shovel, and a measure of patience to the airport with you.

For all that is written about big airports and commercial aviation, it is hard to keep in mind that flying's heart and soul still is found at the little airports. During the difficult season though, the coming and going of winter storms makes these airports unreliable as destinations. Too often our few days of good weather follow a snow storm that has left the runway unuseable.

I had no place I could go this weekend, but the airplane needed some exercise after several weeks of neglect. More or less I forced myself to go flying just to warm the oil and charge the battery. If I were to use the brakes enough to shine the rust from the rotors, it would be so much the better. It was an uninspiring day, with calm winds, a few inches of light snow on the ground, a milky colored sky, and temperatures in the mid twenties.

With such a limited expectation for the flight, I was stunned by my burst of inspiration just two minutes after takeoff. Making a dogleg turn to the southwest near the racetrack, I noted that I was lined up with "Uncle" Marv's backyard runway just a few miles ahead. I felt a mischievous grin start to spread across my face and I throttled back to stop my climb while I decided what to do about it.

I was being drawn to the threshold of his runway and I fought the temptation to just cut the power and land, deciding to first make a low pass just to check things out. I noted there was no wind, I would have an uphill landing and a downhill takeoff in snow that was no deeper than I had just departed. There were no cows wandering about, and no vehicles, equipment, or debris was in the way. The approach and "go around" paths were clear. As I passed, I noted that Marv and Fran were both in the porch windows, each with a cup of coffee in one hand and waving with the other.

I had never landed at Marv's before, and I'm not really sure if anyone but Marv has ever landed there. I have been there by car, and he gave me a standing invitation to land years ago, but short and narrow hill- country personal airstrips can be quirky places and are not to be taken lightly. I had never had a reason to land there, but the raised cups of coffee and the curl of wood smoke from the chimney changed all that.

Marv was at the edge of the runway as I rolled to the end and blasted the tail around, pointing the nose down the runway for takeoff. I got out of the plane and greeted him with the observation that he had a classic "high wing" airstrip. He laughed, understanding that I was referring to the narrowness of the runway, and the fact that high wings were necessary to clear the "rough" along each edge.

I had a great visit, fully as enjoyable as any I have ever had at any other airport. The house was heated to the kind of warmth that only wood- burning people can afford, and the open- hearth stove held several pieces of knurly cherry, nicely coaled and glowing under a fresh piece of white oak. We sat in front of the stove in easy chairs, laughed about the old times, and talked about airplanes. What more could a fellow ask of an otherwise dreary morning?

A long visit was not in order though, for I noticed that a southwest breeze was starting to stir. The opportunity for a downhill takeoff in calm wind was one factor in my decision to land, but this breeze was a tailwind, and would make the takeoff roll longer. Small details such as this can make a big difference on a short airstrip.

I left Marv's with a feeling of contentment that lasted through the rest of the weekend. It was a great visit with an old friend, and there was some satisfaction to a successful landing and takeoff from a short and narrow runway. Most of all though, I appreciated how I can get into my clunky old airplane and consistently find and interesting people and places to visit.

Marv was off to the right taking a picture that didn't turn out when his wife took this one. The sky shows it was just a plain Jane dull winter day. I don't have a hat on, so that means the wind was calm and the temperature was reasonable for January.