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I used to fly on a hill overlooking the coast near Pescadero and the onshore winds would keep the plane up until the batteries went dead. Most of the time, a red-tailed hawk would come along and attack. Sometimes he'd rip a wing off. Other times I would go into a dive, pull up, and nail him. Nothin' quite like dog fights with a hawk.
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Charlie
1966 912 Polo Red
1950 VW Bug
1983 VW Westfalia; 1989 VW Syncro Tristar Doka
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