We’re all brave in a crowd, aren’t we?

I’m sure we’ve all come across intimidating individuals like these before.

You know the type; they look at you with contempt in their eyes.

Staring at you, daring you to blink first.

They’re extremely brave, when they’re in a crowd, but at the first sign of trouble they all scarper for the hills. Just like your mates at a Saturday nightclub brawl.

Or maybe that was just mine?

Anyway, I was unfortunate enough to encounter a group of them just this weekend. They were just like I describe above and, unhappily for me, this occurred more than once.

Once had been enough, it had unnerved me a little the first time, I won’t lie. But when Elektra leaned across the cockpit and queried “Daddy why are the sheep not moving off the runway?” I really didn’t know what to say.

It’s that time of year that farmers look at the sky and decide that not many people will be flying and so out come the sheep, obviously, to graze the runway.

The first ‘clearing run’ had been conducted on the previous circuit. I’d lined up on final for Rossall’s runway 20, a little high I noted, so kicked Harriet sideways for a little sideslip to get the picture back.

Incidentally, if you’ve never side slipped an AX3 you really should. It can be quite an exhilarating ride, as the already aerodynamically challenged airframe takes on all the flying characteristics of a London bus.

Returning to my approach, everything was looking better now except as I scanned the runway there were a group of about 30 sheep, huddled right on the centreline of 20.

Why?

Why had they chosen there?

There is a bloody huge field to choose from, with literally acres of tasty, luscious, green untouched grass that is much longer, and presumably more appetising, than the grass that desperately clings to the battered and bruised winter surface of runway 20.

But, annoyingly, there they stood.

Staring and chewing, with contempt on their faces.

I made my radio call to no one in particular.

It’s winter. Not many members come and hang around in the caravan on a cold winters day, and there was no one else flying.

Still best to be safe.

“Rossall traffic, G-YL final 20.”

R/T formalities out of the way, my attention switched back to the sheep.

They were still there.

Chewing.

At this point Elektra helpfully added “Dad, how can we land if there are sheep on the runway?”

A fine question indeed, and asked at the perfect moment, short final.

I ignored my daughter’s untimely enquiry and continued the approach.

But there they still stood, and still bloody chewing.

I’m not sure why but the chewing seems to add to the disrespectful nature of their overall posture.

“Fine” I muttered under my breath.

“Have it your way.”

“Rossall Traffic, G-YL going around.”

And with that I unleashed the power of all 50 Rotax horses and levelled out at about 5 feet. Time to give the sheep a little gentle persuasion to move.

But there they still stood.

As the gap between ourselves and the sheep was rapidly diminishing, Elektra chose this opportunity to ask another pertinent question.

“Dad, what happens if they don’t move?”

I thought for a second, and then, grinning, with a slight ‘Jack Nicolas in The Shining’ look on my face I replied “Anyone for shepherd’s pie?”

Fortunately, whilst Elektra looked at me quizzically, presumably trying to work out if I was joking or not, the sheep decided to stop playing chicken and return to being sheep.

As is always the case.

One broke rank, and like a battle line in the Napoleonic war, they scattered to avoid the inevitable cavalry charge.

Kind of.

Until they regrouped again for my next approach, which is where we began.

This time though, their tactics let them down as, like all sheep, they don’t seem to be too well versed in the landing distance requirements of an AX3 microlight. They’d repositioned themselves crucially a further 100 metres down the runway.

The landing was no problem this time, and for once I even decided to use the brakes (AX3’s really do have brakes, not just a pedal that looks like a brake pedal).

As I turned to back track to the hangar I glanced out of the window, and they were still there.

Staring.

I stared back.

It was my victory today.

Until next time…

Copyright © 2020 Dan Roach