I recall doing a night currency flight out of KBUR to KWHP solo in a 152 a couple of decades ago. I took off and flew over to KWHP as the expected Santa Ana winds were picking up steam. As I was completing my second full landing things were getting a bit "sporty" (at least for me, I think I had around 100 hrs at that point.), as I took off for my final circuit the Whiteman controller asked if maybe I'd rather come back another day. I was young and dumb and said I'd be okay for one more and then I'd head back to Burbank, the crosswind was getting about to my limits but I got it back on the ground and took off for KBUR. KBUR and KWHP are only a few miles apart, as I was climbing out, contacting Burbank, setting my transponder and trying to comply with ATC instructions the only way I could judge my actual forward track/progress was through the side window. I was cleared to land on RWY 33, which was fairly unusual and a pretty good indicator of the wind, normally even with a strong crosswind they would still have arriving traffic land on RWY 8. I flew a sloppy, slightly high base and flew a fairly steep approach to 33 with 30 degrees of flaps when I felt I had the runway. Just as I was starting to flare a large gust of wind picked me up about 40' in the air. It was right about then I remembered what I'd been taught. My instructor had told me countless times about not using full flaps in windy conditions, I'm not sure why I'd forgotten it that night, I suspect because we'd actually been flying three different airframes during my training and I don't recall ever doing night flight in heavy winds as part of my PPL curriculum. In any case my brain started working again and put in a little bit of power and started retracting the flaps and made an actually pretty decent landing. As I taxied back to parking (which at that time was on the Mercury ramp at the southwest corner of the intersection of 8/26 and 15/33, with the touchdown zone for 33 pretty much right outside the door of the terminal.) I realized I really needed to relieve myself. The little boost that gust had given me had caused me to cross the intersection before I touched down, thankfully there was no traffic on the ILS to 8 and I was able to scoot across without delay. I threw off my headset and seatbelt as soon as I reached the ramp, by the time the airplane stopped I'd already shut it down and was halfway out the door. I was looking around for chocks when I finally accepted the fact that I may wet myself as a sober adult on the Mercury Aviation ramp at KBUR, luckily one of those obnoxious corporate jets must have blown my chocks up against the wheels of one of the other club airplanes and I was able to retrieve them quickly and do my best Harvey Haulass to the terminal restroom. The old Mercury terminal had a "porch". Most people these days would never consider Burbank as a GA field, and that's true, but back in the day there was a large GA presence. There was a couple of FBOs, Martin/Media Aviation and Mercury Aviation, I worked for both at one point or another, but the point is on a night like that the "old farts" would come out and sit on a bench on the porch. As I was walking up the couple of steps making a bee line for the door they started offering their opinion/comment/criticism/advice regarding my arrival. Thank God I was a skater, I still own 32X32 501 Levis from high school age that still fit, but when I was skating I preferred baggy khakis, otherwise I'd wear jeans. If I would've had to fumble with a button fly that evening I think I might've pissed myself. The relief I felt from draining the tank was immeasurable. I realized that I had to go back out and tie the airplane down due to the winds. I went back out across the porch and down the steps and tied down my little airplane. I gathered my belongings and walked back up the steps and across the porch. One of the old guys asked if I'd like a cup a of coffee. That's a story best left offline.
