As a reward, you see.
I finished the taxes this morning, washed the bitter taste out of my mouth that always accompanies that job, and spent a little time on building the RV-12. The skies were clear and the winds just shy of unmanageable, so I decided to treat myself to a little flying.
The weather was okay, but that pesky 10G14 direct crosswind from the right caused me to do a little more work than I had hoped for on the landing. It took a three-quarter bootful of left rudder to counteract the heaping cup full of right aileron that kept us on the straight and narrow against the corrupting influence of the wind We approached the runway at a speed across the ground that seemed way faster than usual. That was a result of having a net zero knots of wind on the nose, I figure.
It was quite the fandango in the flare and touchdown with the wind unable to decide between the 10 or the 14 knots. The wheels were down before my eyes told me to expect them to me, but they chirped on without a bounce through the auspices of Fate rather than any modicum of planning or skill on my part. From there it was just a matter of holding the left wheel up with the control stick and the nose pointed straight down the runway with foot agility. It all came out just fine in the end. Better to be lucky than good. Sometimes. Wouldn't want to rely on it, of course.
I taxied back to the hangar and shut down the engine. With the canopy up, the cool breeze conspired with the warm sun to talk me into just settin' there a spell, soaking up the experience.
If there's one thing an RV does well, it's to convert four gallons of gas into feeling like a million bucks.