In my flight training days out of Crystal River FL, I flew over Lake City on my long cross country; the last hurdle to getting my license. I was a student pilot in IFR conditions in "turrible awful" need to pee! I flew over a hole in the clouds less than my wing span, but a clear shot to the ground. When I circled to try to get through it, I couldn't find the hole. Then I peered at my VFR map to discover I was circling a town at 900' with 1200' towers in the vicinity. It's a thousand wonders I didn't pee right then an' there. Coming to my senses, I called ATC, changing my flight plan for the third time to return to base. Breaking out of the cloud cover and into daylight, my bladder immediately relaxed, and my toes could uncurl. An hour later, I landed safely. Pullin' up to the fuel pumps in front of the FBO, I turned off the switch, got out and headed to the potty, but not without leveling the prop as I passed the front of the plane; a habit I followed from my first flight instructor. I heard one click as the magneto made contact, and that bitch started up! Talk about Wylie Coyote an' his ears layin' back, baby, that was me. I swallered hard, but jumped back, slidin' into the seat like an eel through a frog's ass(that'd be slick an' tight at the same time!!) I stood on the brakes, not lightly, then switched to "full off." I'd only turned the switch one click, which was to "right magneto!" You can rest assured EVERY flight since that one, when I exited the plane, the keys were either on the dash board or in my hand! I have lived a life of "Wonders never cease!"
