It was a typical spring day in Minnesota, warm and clear at last, but with a brisk south wind blowing across the runway. I'd just driven 45 minutes to fly the Cub for the first time since November, and I thought that the wind was still within the plane's capability. Once I broke ground and was promptly churning sideways through the maelstrom, though, it didn't seem like such a great idea after all. I climbed above the bumps and did a bunch of stalls, slow flight and steep turns, reacquainting myself with the old bird's handling and psyching myself up for the dismount. Back at Airlake Airport, I surprised myself with an artful crosswind landing and was feeling pretty good as I taxied off the runway. Then a mighty gust caught the little J-3, it weathervaned to the right, and my frantic jabs at the left heel brake had little effect.