Weather is a trickster!

The weather finally became agreeable to flying and my wife all but called to see if the Champ I rent was available, as apparently I've been grumpy.

CAVU and Calm. Wow.

Up and around for a quick touch and go - it was like cheating! Centerline three pointer with not even a hint of bump, let alone bounce.

Bah, that's no fun - let's fly up the Coosa river at 1000' AGL and 55 mph; that's better. Let the beauty of it all wash over me and laugh when I see some cows tip over a trailer full of hay to get at it. Mental note to get some gloves; at 34 degrees the wind coming through the window seal is rough on them.

Turn back and check the ATIS; calm. Alabama windsocks* aren't out today for some reason, but traffic is using the no-wind runway, three.

Downwind, base, final.....hey, what's....crosswind gust? Not nice, I'm suddenly centerline to the runway lights on short final. Ghaa, swooshie dip swoosh back to it and a little bouncy.

Let's try that again. Windsock on the take-off end hides the wind as soon as it sees I'm watching, falling flat but spinning around the pole. I hate that windsock; it's an evil windsock, and usually lies in some way or another, rarely agreeing with the one on the other end.

Lengthen the final a bit, looking for the "good" windsock on the 3 end of the field. It's up to no good as well, rotating around and going limp as soon as it sees me looking. The flags at the terminal are straight across the runway, right to left. Hey, now, thermal and gusting from the other direction this time? Really? Just doesn't feel right as I stick the tail down on the pavement - am I fast? Didn't seem like a wheel landing to me, but it acted like one.

This is weird, so I go around again.

Okay, I'm gonna carry some more power and wheel land it with a more aggressive crosswind slip. That'll learn it!

Oh ho, gotcha! There's that centerline sticking with me no problem - sneaky ol' crosswind was trying to hide from me and jump out on short final. One wheel down slick as snot and pull the power back, waiting on the tail to drop. And waiting. Great, adverse yaw from the stick and too slow for the rudder to really bite, gonna have to get that tail down by hand to keep my position. I miss the first turn off and have to go to the second, turning right to go back the way I came.

Man, she's taxiing goofy, but I pull off and announce I'm clear. At walking speed it's a minute before I get to where I can see the windsock, who knows that the joke's over and is standing up....tail towards me.

Put the Champ to rest until the next adventure, pat on the prop after post-flight in thanks, and go up to the FBO to pay and chat.

"Wind sure changed in a hurry," I remark.
"Gave you an opportunity to practice downwind landings, though," one of the airport guys remarked.
"Actually, I'm just slow to catch on," I admit.
"Dang, I was going to tell you it looked great," he says, "but now you told on yourself."

:)

* Alabama windsock = trash fire.