Ranking up there as one heck-of-a-cool experience on my list of Things-That-Should-Be-On-My-Bucket-List-But-Didn't-Know-It-Til-I-Tried-It was; riding co-photographer, er...I mean pilot, with my Uncle Tom. His 800 pound toy offered some breathless views of our family's summer home and surrounding area. From take-off to landing and everywhere in-between this flight was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Tom's piloting experience stems from his Army days serving in the Vietnam war (Go Vets!) and his cool, calm nature made it a no-brainer when it came to deciding whether or not to take off in this blue & white 800# butterfly (not sure he'd be cool with me describing it in those terms). Once we untied the plane and he pushed & pulled it over to the fueling station some ominous dark clouds rolled in above the tarmac. As soon as the thunder boomed we had to temporarily bag our flight plans while taking shelter in our car until further notice. Per Tom, a storm like the one we were seeing in the distance would "tear a plane like [ours] to pieces". Hmm.
After a quick 30 minute shower the skies cleared and were soundless and we were ready to roll. Realizing now the depth of the situation I was in...it was just me and the pilot. If something happened to him in-flight my only probable chance of survival would be if I had some sort of clue how to drive this machine. Since my headset microphone didn't work I couldn't ask any questions (at least any that he would hear) over the roar of the engine. So, staring at his movements I tried to give myself a quick visual-only tutorial on how to fly a plane. Push this, turn that, pull that, wiggle this, beep here, silence there. I was lost at 'Turn'. Crossing my fingers and resigning myself to purely enjoying the experience without feeling any sense of responsibility for the need to do everything in my power to ensure a safe return in order to care for my young children as well as returning safely to my husband who would miss me quite a bit, or at least the chance to fly in a 2-seater, I settled into my seat and stared at the pavement ahead of us.
Clearing the runway we took off like a seed blown from a blooming dandelion; effortless and (seemingly) weightless. If only passenger jets could get off the ground this quickly. In a matter of seconds we were 500 feet up in the air, my stomach had yet to catch up, but I persisted in peering out the cockpit at the tiny sailboats, the shades of greens & blues of the lake and bays, rolling green turf of the golf courses and towering lighthouses shimmering in the sunlight that glided past my view out the windows as our "butterfly" glided and tilted left and right. So much so that it felt as though I would roll right out the passenger window onto the idyllic scene below. Helloooo skydiving; aaaaand theeeere goes my stomach again.
An interesting little flying tidbit I learned on this flight is that riding out over the water can be pretty calm yet while flying over land can be like "driving along a street with potholes". After a fly-by of our summer home with my family waving like a band of madmen on the deck we made the trip back to the airport, "7754-Hotel, 1 mile Southeast of Runway 34 we are prepared for landing." Stomach & all.
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