My Powell River Peak editor phoned me at home one evening in the late ’90s and asked me if I was interested in flying with the Snowbirds for an hour or two. When I said of course I was, she told me to get on the next ferry to Vancouver Island, check in at CFB Comox where I’d spend the night, and the next morning have fun.
So off I went.
We flew in formation, we went straight up and straight down, we flopped over upside down, and at times our wings seemed to almost touch the ones beside us.