Sailing and flying

I wonder how it works, maybe it's just me. But when I don't dedicate a whole day towards flying, there is something missing. As if there would need to be a certain ceremony of a flying lesson. As if one or a little bit more than one hour wouldn't be enough.

I arrived at the airport from hours of sailing. Greeted Princess who was still warm from previous flying, and sat inside. I still felt like on the boat and couldn't really feel the rhythm. But there I was, in my Princess, again, in the one that I missed so much. There I was and it made me so happy again. "I missed you, little girl" I whispered so that my instructor couldn't hear. He would think I'm crazy talking to the airplane. I put on my headset and... flew. Nothing new, nothing unusual, the same old beloved routine. Well, ok, not that old, after all I did it just like a ten times. It's nothing. But even though, it feels as if I did it all my life. As if I was meant to do that all my life.

The first landing was really nice. I sat Princess nice and slow.

The second approach.... turned out to be learning how to get up from a failed approach... But I was very happy to learn it, actually.

Every next landing was done but crummy, heavily, and so on. Nothing pretty, Princess hurting, me not very happy as I still couldn't get close enough, low enough, slow enough or most of all - I never landed on the number that was supposed to be my destination.

And?
That wasn't my day, that's all. I felt distracted, worried, somehow I wasn't really there, not all of me at least. And I think I should plan it better, prepare better, celebrate it more. Dedicate a day for flying.


After all, it's always worth it.

Aviation Day

I just left the doctor's office with my brand new shiny medical certification third class and student pilot certification. A little disappointed that it's such a small piece of paper but the name, still, makes me wear a smile from one ear to another. So now, I can officially have my first solo flight. Ba! I can actually fly solo. Technically, legally, not that I really know how to do it.

I decided to call my parents but didn't tell them about the visit and certificate. After all, they are not very happy about my "crazy" new idea. But when they told me that today is actually Aviation Day in Poland, I couldn't be silent anymore.

In moment like that, I am even more sure, that I was supposed to go this road from the very beginning.

Yesterday, on the other hand, two beautiful planes. I know I know seeing planes in the air - what's a big deal! But for me, it's even better than before. I always had this tendency to stop, wherever I was going, and stare at the planes in the sky. I couldn't ignore one. One could think - when you start flying, once it becomes a real thing and not an impossible dream anymore, you don't get so excited when seeing a plane in the sky.

It so doesn't apply to me.

One was a little airplane, I don't know what kind. It had beautiful wings, very wide, all the way to the wing tips. It was like one of the oldies, even width of the wing like in a biplane. Breath taking. It was flying above me so pretty.

A few miles later I saw a six person beach craft or something similar. Doing a pattern!! A pattern!! Coming from the downwind to the base leg and then to the final approach. I followed the turns, imagined I set the flaps on 10, then on 20, then on 30, reduce the speed, lower the nose (lower the nose! lower the nose!) and sit softly and smoothly, just like a pretty thing like that deserves.

All that while driving my car, not very straight...

And that longing for flying started o scream even stronger. It's really strange and I myself can't believe it, still. Even if I read so much about it, even I know so well Exupery and Bach, I still can't believe I actually feel physical pain of longing. Just like with love, when the desire to see this other person seems to be tearing us apart - just so with flying, being grounded hurts. Literary hurts. And every airplane gliding through the sky reminds us about the suppressed longing just like seeing an alter ego of someone we are crazy about.

So that's why I went to the doctor today. And I chose one who is a pilot himself. How could I chose one who isn't a pilot! And the moment I saw him, I had this huge smile on my face, this banana smile that doesn't leave me from the moment I get to the car when driving to the airport. Because I knew, he is one of us, I saw it right away. And he knew what I feel. I he knew what language to speak. And we both spoke Loveflyish.

How awesome it is to meet thee people. How awesome to talk to them. To be with them. To understand each other on the level that nobody from the outside will ever understand. To listen to them and hear the wind bending on the wing. To talk to them and sound like humming around the plane's tail. To make gestures similar to touching the yolk, pressing on the rudder, let the flaps go down. And walking like sitting the airfoils on the runway.


How amazingly awesome it is.

One potato, two potatoes, three potatoes, four...

I read once somewhere that if we really want something, the whole universe gets together all the energy  and helps us achieve that.

It didn't seem so when I arrived at the airport on Thursday. The clouds were coming down, the sky was becoming darker and darker and I was sure - I will be driving back home with a taste of the sky only in my mind.
But how could I forget whom I have for an instructor?

Making a complete fool of myself, I asked him if we are able to fly. He looked at me strangely as if I were asking if the sky is up. He also ignored the first drops falling on our heads. So I greeted sweetly Princess Cessna, ask her to be gentle with me and pulled her out into the rainy air.

"Ready?" Asked my instructor.
"Ready!"

We drove to the runway and I did the preflight check. Wondered why airplanes like that don't have the wipers.
"We don't need them when we fly" my instructor said. I was happy the runway was so wide.

When I took Princess into the air, I had again that goofy banana smile on my face. So simple. Such a little thing (or is it really little?) can make me happy like nothing in the world.

I did the pattern but it didn't go very well, a lot of "too muchs" and "too fars". But what are second chances for - I thought and brought that baby up again. I love take offs. I just completely and absolutely love them.

Another pattern and I sat Princess on the ground in a pretty nice way. Happiness. I really start to be able to do that. The rain was stronger and stronger but my instructor didn't give up. "Let's go let's go", he yelled and the beauty of the start again.
By the end of the downwind the clouds came down to us and hugged us tightly. The Princess started shaking and basically did what she wanted to. A difficult conversation.
"Turn turn! Let's go! Faster faster!" my instructor jumped on the seat out of joy. I remembered how I loved my first experienced turbulences in a big jet and I was wondering, if I ever get to the point of being an aerobatic flier like this crazy man who had my life in his hands.
I gave him the yolk and allowed myself to be lazy at this point. Small steps. At some point, I hope, I will be able to land in a weather like this with no problems.

When the rain went away, we jumped into the Princess again and started the pattern. It worked!! Landing after landing, I couldn't believe, I am actually doing this! They were some hard landings and by one the GPS turned off but one I was especially proud of. And the "good job" made me feel so good.

After a little more than two weeks, when I thought I would never learn this, I came to the point when I landed 5 out of 9 times. And today, I opened "Flight Training" magazine and I read:

You're in the pattern today. Again. It seems like it's been a month since you went out and did anything else with an airplane, and probably a few weeks since you had any fun. [Is it even possible, to NOT have fun in an airplane??] At first, it felt good to finally get a chance to sink your teeth into some real landing practice. But now? Well, let's just say that your landings feel like one barely controlled crash after another, and they are hardly advancing your Top Gun dreams. /Rebecca Gibson/

So good to know I am not alone. But I will ace it and one day, I will laugh at all those problems with holding the plane pointed to the runway or keeping it right above it rather than next to it.

And after the start with the rain I see the universe's point. It's not always about the beautiful weather. Sometimes, it's all about seeing that the beauty is in learning how to turn a catastrophe to a bliss, just like Zorba did. And now I actually think, that flying in the rain is even better

than dancing in it.

My First Landing

I did it! I did it! I did it! After almost nine hours of training (where one hour was more like a presentation though), and after nearly 40 landings, I finally got it! It wasn't pretty, but I sat this baby on the ground. Funny, how take-offs and landings are still my favorite things in flying. Maybe because take-offs are always new fascinating beginnings, invitations to new adventures, and landings... well, landings have double-meaning... You need to land in order to take off, that's for sure. And second... it's always so nice to come back to the daisies.

So I finally was able to hold the bird more stable. No sudden movements, just very very gently, gliding through the wind. I still have lots of problems with the rudder. I seem to have difficulty with feeling it. I have an impression I step on it pretty decent, when my instructor screams: right rudder, press the rudder! And I wonder, why is he screaming when I thought I was doing such a good job on the rudder. And then, I wonder, if I pressed it at all. Rudder in a glider requires more pressure, it's easier, because you can feel it better. Here, it's a more sophisticated gentle touch.
Well, this skill too is on its way to me.

Pattern almost good. I'm not sure about the distance from the actual airport but maybe it's not the worst.

And the unhappy trim. Still cannot get the feeling. In the air, it isn't so bad but when I try to land - nto good, not good at all.

Next time: more landings.

My instructor is insane and wants me to fly solo very soon. Very insane. But... the funny things is, that I am starting to actually dream about it...

Airborn

Where does our true nature start? Did I always know that flying is a part of my life? Was that what I was missing all the time?

Sometimes, we squeeze our dreams in little pockets of impossibilities simply because the world taught us to give up on difficult dreams and not to get silly with wanting to dare the impossibilities at all. And so we live wit our biggest dreams in these pockets and never let them out, believing they really are impossible to realize. 

That is, until one seemingly regular Saturday, when a friend takes us to see our dreams floating in the air and begging us to catch them and never let them go.

I was always crazy about airplanes. Biplanes the most. Fell in love with Exupery's writings about flying and I just knew, it must be one of the most amazing feeling in the world, to fly. What I didn't know then was that it was THE most amazing thing in the world. 

When I met T. I thought he is just crazy about flying like I, like many people I met, but he put this fascination to the little pocket of impossibilities. Up until he told me he was taking flying lessons. It still seemed abstract to me and I didn't really understand what that meant. I never thought I could actually also take flying lessons, although admired everyone who did. Way too expensive and this pocket... When you believe something is impossible, not for you, it's extremely hard to get rid of that belief. 

And then, T. took me to see aerobatic training of his flying instructor and said there is a slight chance I could experience a flight in a small Cessna. I didn't believe it really and wasn't sure if I want it at all. In my pocket world, I was completely satisfied with watching someone flying. 

But then, I was put into this plane. And I was taken up. 

And my life was never the same anymore.

I still didn't believe I could actually pursue a license but I knew I wanted to fly again. Suddenly, everything started to come together to a perfect equation: I somehow came across Richard Bach and his books enchanted me completely. T. pushed me to get a pilot's logbook and after visiting the magic aviation store, I knew, that was it. 

I was going to fly. 

After seven hours of flying lessons, I still cannot really land. But that's OK, that too is on its way to me. What I know and what I can't believe I was pushing back for such a long time is that my life means something else now, that my life is now defined around flying. 

On that amazing Saturday, I was born again. 

Air-born.