Me, too, Geo'. We used to stand in a line in the middle of a public dirt road that parallels the Savannah River, as boys, and try to knock them down as they streaked across the road above us going toward the dead river lakes in the swamp behind us just before dark. There were big water oaks lining the road, with huge limbs hanging over it, and it was tough work to see one in time to get a shot before he was past you and gone.
As Grandaddy used to say, "They ain't ringing no backing bells", meaning that they had a full head of steam. Woodies don't know but two speeds anyway ..... dead stopped and wide open.
SRH
