Spreading My Wings

The new experiences still come thick and fast. Some, of course, are faster than others, and today's got up to about one hundred and seventy miles per hour at times. Yes folks, courtesy of some generous friends, I flew a plane.

Going to do that brought back memories of dreams I had I think in my early twenties, when I thought I could learn to fly at the aerodrome two or three miles from my parents' house. I don't think I told anyone at the time, and it foundered on the practicalities of paying for it and exactly what someone still (at that point) committed to the brethren lifestyle would do with a pilot's license. Still, I remember dreaming quite hard. The need for a radio may have given me slight pause, but I don't think it ever worried me much. It's kind of hard to remember the way my mind worked back then when I took brethren rules relatively seriously, but maybe that proves I only ever fooled myself that I did.

Back to today. I was not sure what to expect, but thought it would be limited in hands-on time. I also thought that years of controlling machinery of various kinds - bikes, cars, tools, etc - would give me a start. I thought it would be short (the voucher said half an hour). I thought the weather would break.

In the event, our laid-back pilot (casual enough to forget he needed keys to start the plane) showed me roughly what everything did, taxied far enough to do the checks, then asked if I wanted to do the take-off. I was surprised, but said I would, wiggled up the runway and into the air. A plane is basically nothing like a car, and I honestly think that a non-driver would adapt faster. I couldn't help thinking about leaving home last year - I knew it would be difficult, but had spent a long time preparing myself and thinking about what it would take, and even so found the plunge into actually having to do what I'd prepared for almost took more than I had. Life rushes past, and you have to deal with it as it comes. In the case of the plane, it's countryside rushing past, but in the same way it's all hands-on and there's no point saying "hang on, that was just a practice, can I have another go?" At least there's somebody at hand ready to take the controls if the trajectory becomes disastrous.

It will be obvious from my description that when they describe these trips as trial lessons they aren't stretching the truth as I always assumed. I seriously flew that plane a lot of the time, whereas I had thought the punter was fobbed off with a few touches of the controls while the REAL pilot did a lot of flying and condescending talking.

We flew to the South Coast in beautiful weather with clear stunning views, over the Isle of Wight, along the coast and back inland. Before heading back I had to circle over the sea waiting for clearance, first left then right. Once out of the delicate area where several control patches overlapped, we tried a little low flying at about five hundred feet, and some higher flying at around three thousand plus. I'm not sure exactly what went on, as my piece of paper said I was booked for half an hour, but that took a while, and was long enough for one passenger to nap briefly and another to feel ill (not seriously, fortunately). I received a certificate that apparently goes one hour towards a license if I ever decide to take it further.

That was quite an experience, and quite some gift. Another of those milestones that shows what is possible.