Fully erect and at a perfect 90° angle to runway, local windsock has been spending the day taking great pleasure in taunting pilots attempting to land.
“Watch this guy,” the windsock laughed. “He’s gone around 7 times now!”
Today’s forecast was for calm winds, “But then I just got lucky!” said the windsock.
We radioed up to the pilot to find out how he was doing up there.
“This isn’t cool, man! That windsock is a total asshole!” Henri Fulton said. “I really thought I had that last one. I was crabbing in perfectly and just about to straighten it up, then I looked at that bastard… had to do another go around.”
“I swear I saw it laughing at me!” he said, sounding distressed. “Can you cover it up with something?”
The windsock seemed excited about the idea, asking if I could cover it and then quickly remove the cover right before Fulton’s next flare.
We suggested to the pilot that he try another airfield 10 nm north, but he seemed determined. “Oh no, it’s war now! The second I get back on the ground, I’m ripping that f**king windsock a new one!”