"East it is then. Is there a way for you to talk to me while we're out there?" He begins walking to the exit to begin work on the ship, then stops suddenly. "Oh hold on." He lifts up his left leg, taking off the boot, then does the same with his right. Holding both boots in his hand, he drops them onto the floor with an incredibly loud bang, as each boot weighs about 75 pounds a piece. "There we go, trying to run in sand in those is an absolute nightmare. I've killed eldritch horrors and I would rather deal with them over than sandy boots. Get's all in my toenails and shit." Truly a man with his priorities in order, Maxwell. Makes you wonder, what exactly has he done to make him so nonchalant about slaying horrific beasts, but hate sand so much? Well, I mean, I know, but you don't. Neener neener. 

"Anyway, with that taken care of, activate a transmission sensor or open a porthole or something, cause this is gonna be a long trip. Well. Maybe." He walks out of the ship, his feet still thudding heavily on the ship's floor regardless of the boots or not. He still weighs about three thousand pounds anyway. 

"Also, hold on tight."

Maxwell exits the ship, stepping onto the hot sand. A lesser (IE: Normal) human would be experiencing heat enough to burn their skin from the sun baked particles under their feet right now, but Maxwell's feet are literally tougher than the strongest leather, so he barely registers it as even being there. Lifting the ship with one arm, straining just a bit, he begins to move under it. "Alright, he said to prop the landing pads and break the wheels huh? Not too hard." Using his other arm, he breaks some of the paneling off of the side of the ship, one for each pad. He sets them under the pads in the appropriate spots, then lowers the ship once more. Crawling under the ship now, he wiggles over to the wheels, then one at a time, grabs them, one handed, and rips them off as if they were paper towels. He crawls back towards the front of the ship, chucks them inside to LeeRoy to hold onto if he needs them, and then licks his finger to check the direction of the wind. LeeRoy said east, so once he determines direction, he grabs the ship, and begins to turn it around, pointing the front of the ship east, the rear, where he is, facing west. 

Satisfied with this, he walks back around to the front, grabbing some of the more flexible tubing of the ship as he goes. Once in front, he pokes a couple of holes to thread it through, then connects it to his belt, making a simple, but effective harness. "ALRIGHT LEEROY. HOLD ON." He yells through the front, thinking that the broken windows should let enough of the sound through. Taking a good running position, Maxwell begins at a slow start. With one foot in front of the other, he builds up to a normal human running speed, 15 mph, the ship being drug behind him. Establishing that it isn't yet bouncing around, Maxwell kicks it up a notch, pumping his legs harder, boosting to 70 mph within about 10 seconds. The ship rattles, but stays stable enough to where he feels comfortable really letting it fly at 100 miles per hour, sand churning and flying behind this monster of a man. "Hahaha! Okay! Maybe not so long!"