Liking the kind of things I do, I was lucky as a kid. Just east of Globe, Ariz. is Cutter field, right on the west edge of the San Carlos Apache Indian Reservation. We had almost six thousand feet of runway, except after a hard rain, when we had forty eight hundred feet. My brother had a Cessna 140, with a fabric 120 wing, and a 125 HP Continental engine. The first plane I flew in was a Piper J-2, Then a J-3, and a J-4. We had available to us a little Taylor Craft, a Piper Tripacer, a little aircoupe, and my brother and some friends owned a 32 Waco Bi-Plane. We could almost literally fly a different plane every day of the week. We even had a Cessna 180 available, but it used a lot of gas, so we didn't fly it often. It was fun to do vertical take offs with that little Cessna. The wind would come straight down that runway at a terrific rate. I never considered the fact that the wind could suddenly die while we about ten feet off the ground, with no forward speed. Lots of cool memories from that place. We had a dentist that bought a Piper Super Cub, with the big low pressure tires, cause he liked to go fishing. He took it out to the lake three times, and we had to go out and haul it back with a flat-bed truck twice. You don't have to be very high in the air for that ground to look really smooth. The guy who owned the second Cessna 180 and some buddies went up by Williams to do some Deer hunting. Cutter is right at 4000 feet, and the little airport up north was about 6800 feet, on top of a mesa. Those guys finished hunting, stuffed all themselves and all their gear, and about three hundred pounds of meat, and proceeded to taake off from that mesa. Once they cleared the edge of that mesa, they rode a ridgeback down from that mesa til they hit hit soft sand in a creek bed at the foot of that mesa. He knew better, just brain vapor lock.