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Thanks to work and the weather, we hadn't flown in a couple of weeks. 
Therefore, even though the temperature this morning was just above 
zero, and the runways were twin sheets of ice (thanks to an ice storm 
that preceded our snowstorm), we decided we HAD to fly today. 

Worse, we hadn't taken the time to run up the engine after changing 
the oil a couple of weeks ago (in our shirtsleeves!), so we really 
paid the price today for our laziness.   Nothing like decowling the 
engine and checking for oil leaks when the wind-chill is minus 14 to 
make you vow NEVER to put off till tomorrow what can be done today. 

That done, Mary ever-so-carefully taxied out to Rwy 25 for departure. 
With the taxiways and runways glare ice, a slow pace was rewarded, and 
an "on-the-roll" run-up was required, since brakes wouldn't hold us, 
even at run-up power.  Luckily, we're from Wisconsin, and have been 
flying in Midwestern winters for 14 years -- so we're used to such 
nonsense.  But the utterly deserted sky and ramp told us that we were 
the only ones who regarded today as a good day to fly -- despite the 
crystal clear skies and light winds. 

As Mary applied full power for departure, we started an ever-so-slight 
drift to the right, toward the snow banks, thanks to the cross wind. 
Once started, it's hard to stop, but the combination of light load, 
cold air, and 235 horses pulling meant that we were off in just a few 
hundred feet -- no worries! 

Grinnell, Iowa (KGGI) was our chosen destination, located about 50 
miles due west, straight down Interstate 80.  Home to Grinnell 
College, a well-respected private university, it's a wonderful town 
with excellent restaurants, a quaint and lively downtown, and a very 
friendly airport.  We had attended a Bed & Breakfast Guild meeting 
there last winter, and had a marvelous time -- but we had (*gasp*) 
driven the car, so by our best estimate we hadn't flown into Grinnell 
in a couple of years. 

We were met at the plane by the FBO owner, a very nice guy who bought 
the place from a friend of ours several years ago, and has done a nice 
job with it.  The runways and taxiways were perfectly cleared of snow 
-- almost manicured, in fact, despite the ice storm.  When I commented 
on this, he said "You've just got to play the storm right.  Get out 
there and run the plow up and down right when it's changing over from 
freezing rain to snow, and you can get it clear down to the pavement 
before it freezes over." 

Now *that* is attention to detail. 

You can tell there is big money in town, and much of his business is 
catering to the biz-jet crowd. Despite this fact, his heart is in GA, 
and it shows.  Running his own extension cord out to our plane, he 
helpfully plugged us in (an absolute necessity at these temperatures) 
while Mary did the paperwork and I fetched the cowl cover.  There was 
no dawdling in this weather, and small talk was held until we were 
indoors.... 

Spotlessly clean and tastefully decorated with historic artifacts from 
the airmail days, the FBO is the absolute antithesis of the "radio 
shack" most people expect in Smalltown, Iowa.  Warm and full of good 
stuff to eat and read, it's an excellent "front door" to Grinnell, and 
you can tell that they're used to showing it off. 

When we inquired about a courtesy car, it was offered without 
hesitation.  We asked if he could recommend a place to eat in town, 
and he immediately responded "the Depot" -- an old, converted train 
station that has been a restaurant for several years.  We had eaten 
there before, and liked it fine, but it was a bit pricey for our 
tastes. 

Our friendly FBO owner volunteered that the restaurant had recently 
changed hands, the new owners were now "fire-grilling" everything, and 
had cut the once-high prices down to more reasonable lunch-time 
levels. 

 We were sold, and asked which car was "ours" for the noon hour... 

Imagine our surprise when he handed us the keys to an almost-new 
Cadillac DeVille!  Shiny and clean (despite the weather) this car had 
every bell and whistle Detroit has ever put in a car, and we were soon 
tooling down the road in style! 

For once, we didn't feel like the Beverly Hillbillies when we arrived 
at a nice restaurant!  We've grown so used to driving clapped-out old 
police cruisers, or '74 Chevy Novas (visit Maquoketa, IA some day...), 
that I was truly nervous driving such a beautiful automobile on the 
icy roads.  With real wood trim, a hundred yards of top-grain dead cow 
on the seats, and electronic gizmos everywhere, this was truly a fine 
driving machine -- and (after so many years of driving airport 
beaters) I barely knew how to handle such luxury. 

After a great lunch (a fire-grilled pulled-pork barbecue sandwich on a 
gigantic fresh Kaiser roll, finely-battered, thin onion rings, and a 
cup of the best cheese-and-bacon soup I've ever had), we waddled back 
to the FBO, fat, dumb and happy.  We talked at length with our new 
friend about everything under the sun, from the trials and 
tribulations of handling corporate flights, to the reasons for having 
such an amazing (some might say extravagant) courtesy car. 

He stated that he'd been working at airports since high school, and 
had spent too many years dealing with broken-down old courtesy cars to 
count.  He vowed that if he ever owned his own FBO, that he'd NEVER 
provide junk cars for pilots -- and wow, has he kept his word!  Best 
of all, his investment is paying dividends with his business, since 
folks flying into town remember this sort of thing.   His sales are 
up, he's doing well, and people are obviously happy to see him. 

Our flight home was just as nice as pie, with sunny skies and light 
winds.  Topping off a great flight, I greased my landing on Rwy 12 in 
Iowa City, with the winds 170 at 11.  Normally nothing to write home 
about, today's glassy runways made it imperative to avoid *any* 
side-stress at touchdown, or we'd be risking an "interesting" 
excursion into the snow banks.  Tires crunching over the snow and ice, 
we rolled to a gentle stop without ever touching the brakes, as smooth 
as a baby's bottom... 

So there you have it -- another great flight.  If you ever find 
yourself toodling down I-80 (either from 1000 feet up, or on the road 
itself), stop in at the Grinnell Airport.  You'll find lots of neat 
stuff to see, some truly friendly people to talk to -- and a really, 
really, REALLY nice courtesy car!