Almost landed in St. John's. Almost, that is. We were down to 5500 ft. Figured we were good to land. But the plane's nose started to go up again and the speed numbers on my screen accelerated at a great rate. We were climbing.
The ceiling, they told us, was about a hundred feet, not enough to land. We were heading for Deer Lake on the other side of the island.
Nice, there. Almost sunny.
Sat on the ground for an hour.
Sat and sat. Stood for awhile. And sat some more. Lots of my parts were complaining.
Took off for St. John's once more. Had yet another water and cookie. Fastened seat belts for landing. And went down to 2000 feet, then climbed again. Circled at 3000 feet for more time.
Going down. Bumpy. Dark grey clouds. Land, trees---I think...we're.....YES. We're clapping. Down!
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