Afternoon temperatures peaked close to 100 hot-and-humid degrees Fahrenheit. On an even hotter piece of asphalt, the air around us hung like a blanket in a hot parked car. The wind sock remained lifeless. Dad and I had been waiting for a ride home from a towered airport where we had delivered an Aeronca 7BCM Champ. We had planned to get a ride in a truck over a well-traveled toll road. But with a small fleet of aircraft rentals at their disposal, two pilots-one a designated pilot examiner, the other a flight school owner-had decided to take us on the short flight back to our home airport in one of their Cessnas.
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