Pants on fire.

I’m sorry to have to report this but there’s no easy way of saying it.

Bob lies.

Blatantly and utterly lies.

I’m sure he would claim it was in a good cause but he tells porkies none the less!

After some airwork today I found myself in a sector of the practice area I don’t normally work in. Although the visibility isn’t too bad there’s a lot of mist obscuring the horizon. I was horrified to see an airstrip off my left side. Panicking that somehow I’ve blundered into some kind of control zone, I turn to Bob.

“Where the hell am I?” I ask.

He shrugs “I don’t know.”

I shoot him a look that could bring down missiles.

He knows.

He’s not going to tell though.

I look around once more, confused by the airport and his apparent lack of concern that we’re about to get CADOR’d for busting a control zone. I circle around until we are pointing south. Hoping that orienting myself with Lake Ontario will help, I desperately glance around looking for something familiar. I spy Trilium Lake and quickly get my bearings.

“That’s Claremont.” I state, reasonably confidently. Bob confirms this. The airport was Markham, private but a mere ATF zone. I wasn’t in controlled airspace.

Bob of course knew this but sometimes I think he likes to watch me sweat.

This isn’t the first time he’s lied either. The previous lesson we were heading back from a long, high workload flight. Eventually Bob had relented and let me bring us back home, via a diversion route.

Once I had Frenchman’s Bay in sight I’d relaxed. Gently bringing us down to a more suitable altitude. “You see that brown field over there, the one with the line of trees about a third of the way down?”

I confirm that I have the field in sight.

“Can you take us overhead it? I want to take a look.” Bob asks.

I agree. I’m not sure why he has taken an interest in that particular field but I’m not really concerned.

The more astute of you may see where this is going. I carry on flying; fat, dumb, happy and oblivious.

No sooner have I announced “there’s your field.” Than Bob counters with “and there goes your engine”

I don’t even waste the time to curse him out. I need to act quickly. I’m at the perfect height and facing in the right direction. If I start a rate one turn now, it’ll all just fall into place.

I do and it does. I make the field easily.

Bob of course was counting on this. He wanted to see if I could quickly identify my situation and act on it.

Because I made the field, I may even forgive him for his dastardly act of untruthfulness.

Oh who am I kidding? I know Bob lies; I even know why he lies.

I don’t know what is worse though. That he lies, or the fact that I’m infinitely grateful for the act he does.