[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Brad had watched Jack land and take off on the lake a million times, but he had never been in a small plane before, except for the commuter flights out of Presque Isle. Certainly nothing this small and never on the water. The four guys had pulled T-shirts on over their swimsuits, while Jack put on a pair of Op brand shorts over his light blue brief. Since he was the novice, Brad got to go up front, Dylan right behind him. Erik was next to Dylan and Ben took the smaller seat in the far back. The takeoff had been calm and gentle, the lake like glass. The Cessna lifted off with barely a jostle and climbed quickly over the western hills. The sky was bright blue with a full sun.

“Perfect climb out,” Jack said. Brad enjoyed the view from the air, especially since he knew exactly where they were. “A cold front is expected to roll in in later, with gusty winds,” Jack warned.

“Is that bad?” Brad asked.

“Depends,” Jack replied. “We’ll just keep an eye on it and make sure we get down before it gets here. Plenty of time.” Far off in the western sky they could just barely make out the band of clouds of the approaching front. It was moving slow and at least 50 miles away.

The guys circled the lake. Jack flew above the house and tilted the wings, a signal to MaryBeth that all was well. They turned south over Maine Route 11 and crossed over Hedgehog Mountain, which was really just a huge hill. They crested the mountain and flew along another lake, making their way down the Fish River band of lakes dotted the eastern edge of the great North Maine Woods. In the wilderness of Fish Lake, they saw a pair of moose. Jack circled and dropped low so they could take in the Moose. Little known fact of Maine is that it is second only to Alaska in moose population in the states.

Jack climbed back to 1500 feet and turned southeast. They picked back up Route 11 again. Once they were over Ashland, they cut across to the east and followed the Aroostook River toward Presque Isle.

“Dudes, that’s Haystack, we should go climb that,” Brad pointed out excitedly. A small mountain rose out of the ridge just before Mapleton. More of rocky pile of debris from the ice age, Haystack is a well-known local point of interest for local hikers. “I’ve climbed it and laid out in the sun on top,” Brad added. It is so peaceful and what a view.”

“Let’s circle it,” Jack offered as he guided the plane in a loop around it. “Brad you take the controls,” Jack offered. As Jack gave direction, Brad flew the plane around the tiny peak. They then continued east, crossing the vast potato farms that sustained the local economy.

Above Caribou, Jack stayed a wide distance from Loring Air Force Base, a restricted fly zone. He climbed to 200 feet as they made their way toward the US and Canada border. The guys were mesmerized by the huge cargo transports making landings at the base. By the time the guys made their loop, including watching air cargo planes land at Loring Air Force Base, the winds were just starting to pick up out of the west. The temp had dropped 5 degrees, marking the entry of colder air. The plane was hitting some chop, making the ride a little more eventful with mild turbulence. Jack seemed unfazed. Ben held his crotch, a posture he took whenever he started to get nervous or excited.

“Getting bumpy,” Ben announced to anyone who was listening.

“Dude, just keep rubbing your balls, we’re fine,” teased Erik, referring to Ben’s nervous habit. “Just don’t get carried away.”

“You wait…” Ben replied.

“I am going to start to head back,” Jack announced. “The front is getting close and we need to get down before the lake gets too wild.” They had crossed over Fort Kent and headed across the village of Alligash, the start of the famous Alligash waterway. Canoe groups dotted the waterway as they flew south, over the northern tip of the undeveloped land mass that is northwestern Maine. An hour and fifteen minutes after they took off, they crossed back over their home lake, Jack descending to 1000 feet as he flew east past the lake and looped around. The plane bounced through the near 360 degree turn. The once blue sky was now pale grey, with the clouds of the cold front rumbling in.

“Water is getting rough,” Jack warned. For the first time, the guys felt a bit of nervousness in Jack’s voice.

“Are we okay,” Dylan asked, having picked up Jack’s tension.

“Yeah, fine,” Jack replied. “It will just be eventful, but we are cutting it close with the wind.” None of that calmed the guys. Even ever confident Dylan gave his brother a frightened glance. The wind was gusty, the plane bouncing as Jack worked to hold his landing point in line. Dylan felt weird sitting in a bouncing plane in a swimsuit. The wings wobbled side to side as the plane descended to 500 feet. The lower they got, the bumpier the flight became, the effect of the wind squeezing between hills. Jack held altitude as the plane crossed the eastern shore, over the secluded beach.
“Hey that’s where we were earlier,” Dylan announced. Erik looked out, but Brad and Ben were too focused on the bouncing plane to care.

“That’s an awesome little beach,” Erik said back to Dylan.

Ben grabbed Erik’s shoulder. He held tight. Ben was terrified, and Erik could feel him shaking. “Everything is fine,” Erik tried to reassure Ben.

“Everything is good, guys,” Jack said, hearing Ben’s concern. None of the usual banter was going on. About a mile down the lake, the plane bouncing, Jack lowered the power, further adjusted the flaps and guided the plane downward. The waves were rough on the water and the plane was being battered by the gusts. “Almost there….” Jack announced. Brad was frozen in place. None of the guys were thinking about swimsuits. From the windows, it looked as if they were just skimming the water. About 100 feet off the water, the plane was tossed by a huge gust, even Jack was surprised.

“Damn,” Jack exclaimed. The gust had pushed him well off line. Jack made the immediate critical decision and quickly throttled up, pulled the flaps back in. “We are going to abort,” Jack announced. The plane skimmed 75 feet over the lake and quickly started climbing. The engine roared. The plane was rocking hard on the climb out.

“I think I almost pee’d myself,” Ben whispered to Erik.

“Pee, I almost did worse,” Erik replied.

“What do we do now,” Brad asked.

“Well, we’ll try again, but if we can’t get down here, we abort to PQI,” Jack replied. “The landing will be fine, I can handle the wind, but we have to hit that water nose high in those waves,” Jack explained.

The four guys looked at each other. Not landing back at the lake never occurred to them. They all were thinking the same thing, “all we have on is swimsuits, little swimsuits.” Dylan started to blush, realizing that he might be exposed in just the tiny yellow and orange Speedo. “Damn, I wish I had shorts,” Dylan said to anyone.

“But you look so cute,” Erik replied, teasing.

“Now, being in my swimsuit feels weird,” Brad added. He glanced down at his bulging crotch.

“You’ll be fine guys,” Jack said. “We just wait in the plane for it to calm or MaryBeth to come get us.”