Sometimes
One of those things about flying, sometimes things go badly.
Hang in there, Forest, hang in there.
Pilot’s Soul
Well, that last post (maybe two or three ago?) that regarded the wonderful book of aeronautical wisdom and ways to stay alive and have fun while flying. It was outstanding. A dear friend of mine recommended a different book about flying, Wind, Sand and Stars, by Antoine De Saint-Exupery. Two days later my flight instructor recommended the same. Hmm. Well then that settled it. The same dear friend actually lent me her copy (thank you!) and I began to read it.
If that other book was about the pilot’s practice and skill, this book is about the pilot’s heart and soul. It’s beautiful.
Here are two tidbits, and a little video clip from the cockpit of the Ercoupe :)
There is a particular flavor about the tiny cabin in which, still only half awake, you stow away your thermos flasks and odd parts and over-night bag; in the fuel tanks heavy with power; and best of all, forward, in the magical instruments set like jewels in their panel and glimmering like a constellation in the dark of night. The mineral glow of the artificial horizon, these stethoscopes designed to take the heartbeat of the heavens, are things a pilot loves. The cabin of a plane is a world unto itself, and to the pilot it is home.
Happiness! It is useless to seek it elsewhere than in this warmth of human relations. Our sordid interests imprison us within their walls. Only a comrade can grasp us by the hand and haul us free. And these human relations must be created. One must go through an apprenticeship to learn the job. Games and risk are a help here. When we exchange manly handshakes, compete in races, join together to save one of us who is in trouble, cry aloud for help in the hour of danger—only then do we learn that we are not alone on earth.
The breaking of a beautiful dawn
Walking home from work looks like this
The first week of school is a very, very very busy time and a crazy adventure. In a new district & school, the craziness lasts for whole first semester. So for the next little while (5 months) while I won’t be posting things but for once in a while.
Wisdom, and a big day tomorrow
Tomorrow I’ll grab my stuff and jump onto a little airplane for an hour flight through some very pretty mountains to my new home, Nondalton. The four days that follow will be no less then sheer madness, and on the fifth day will be the wildest, funnest, and craziest thing we teachers go through: the first day of school!
I’m pretty sure the whole ‘unpacking & settling in’ thing is going to have to wait for labor day.
So far I have been amazed by how wonderful this district is. These folks know how it’s done and I’m honored (and..frankly..moderately trepidated!) to be a part of their team. I am left awe-struck time after time at the deeply rooted care and devotion exhibited by all staff I encounter–teachers, admins, ed. support, business–and championed by the superintendent. It’s incredible. This is a good, good place to be.
———-
Now, on flying! I just finished an absolutely excellent book about flying, “The Thinking Pilot’s Flight Manual.” I highly recommend it–it’s the best stuff I have read thus far in my (short) aviation career. Here are a few notes from the lighthearted-but-poignant last section, a compilation of truths and opinions all come by the hard way:
The weather is not going to get better in the next 5 miles.
One close encounter with a tower or a set of power lines appearing out of the haze or fog when scud-running, or going below minimums on an instrument approach, will give you years of the most hideously vivid nightmares you can imagine.
Tornadoes really are caused by mobile homes. In hot, muggy weather, be cautious of airports near mobile home parks.
When making a decision regarding weather, an effective tool is to ask oneself if this might lead to looking stupid in the NTSB report.
Departing with one component of a redundant system out of service will make the other one fail in flight.
Everyone looks silly wearing a headset.
Males over age thirty look ridiculous dressed in military flight suits when near a civilian airplane. The effect is amplified if the pilot in question has a pot belly. If he has any patches or wings on the jumpsuit, he is an embarrassment to the airplane, and there is a good chance it is secretly laughing at him.
A pilot with any poetry in his or her soul knows that it is always appropriate to quietly thank the airplane for a flight after putting it away. In fact, some assert that those who do not do so may have no soul, and should not be allowed in the sky.
The cliche is depressingly true: the chances of making a superb landing are inversely proportional to the number of people watching.
The rainbow around your airplane’s shadow on a cloud is called a glory. The first time you see one, the name will make eminent sense.
There is nothing more beautiful than this world when viewed from aloft.
Glacier buzzing
Change
The old adage says that the only constant in life is change. I sit here in a coffee shop down on the Kenai, exactly where I sat two years ago on the brink of beginning a new life as a classroom teacher, and now I am a few days away from beginning a new life, again, as a teacher in a new district. There are a lot of things that’ve changed, there are lots of things that are the same.
There were lots of times when I laughed until I cried and there were times I cried and cried and cried, but never cried until there was nothing left but to laugh. My childhood dream of flying has come true. I learned more then I ever thought there was to learn about life and death and happiness and sadness from my students and the community I was so lucky to call home. I have two lovely nieces now–I am excited to teach them to fly some day. So much life!
Thought on life and its constant change: the most important thing in the world is the time we share with the ones we care about.
Five or six years ago when I was quite close to finishing up my degree, I had this funny thought that I may someday go teach and fly in Alaska. It feels good to have made it! Now I have this funny thought that someday I’ll learn to fly instruments, get a commercial certificate and fly part 135 (charter/air taxi) in the summer time. It may happen, it may not, regardless it’s a fun funny thought to have :).
This is a haphazard post already, so how about one of my favorite book quotes? Yeah!
Here was peace. She pulled in her horizon like a great fish-net. Pulled it from around the waist of the world and draped it over her shoulder. So much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see.
-Zora Neale Hurston, from “Their Eyes Were Watching God”
Ercoupe again!
This time, in Bettles!
I passed my checkride, got checked out in the Ercoupe, then buzzed around a few times to get comfortable. Then it was time to sally out on my first real xc trip as a private pilot. The trip–going and returning–was both beautiful and challenging. Some weather gave me a pretty good run for my money on the return trip. Lots of zigging around cloud obscured hills, refiguring my route when I couldn’t make it the way I’d planned. It was tiring but a great experience, and it helped me to realize just how much I appreciate the things that Forest taught me :). To top it off, there was a stunner of a big blue sky in Bettles saturday evening–combined with the photogenic Ercoupe, it made for a lovely panorama. I highly recommend the Bettles Lodge–the staff is super friendly and the lodge is beautiful.
What now?
Well, yeah, what now? What does one do after coming to a grand crossroads?
In this particular case the answer is trivial: jump in an Ercoupe and go joyriding :)
Crossroads
I am prone to write here, possibly to a fault, about how I have wanted to fly as long as I can recall–I spent large amounts of my childhood jumping off of things to get a tiny little bit of the thrill of flying, yada yada yada. I’ve posted about ‘milestones’ here–my first flight lesson, my first rotary wing lesson, my first solo. In this mortal coil the happy milestones we pass sometimes terminate at a crossroads, one of those beautiful places in life with big surreal views of life and all it is. In those places, we chose where we will go next. I came to a crossroads yesterday.
I’M A PILOT! HAH HAAAA! WHOOOHOOOOO!
Milestone
I have a little story to tell. It starts just like one my regular summertime days here in fairbanks–I get up around 8, eat a bowl of cereal, brush my teeth, go to the coffee shop to get coffee (surprise, right?), read the comics and get the weather report for my flight lesson, which is usually at 10. The weather looked good. I was excited to go fly–the previous day, I’d done well with my landings and I was eager to do it again. We did pattern work, and sure enough I was landing safely and correctly each time–Forest* didn’t even have to say anything, or touch any of the controls. It felt good. At the end of the lesson Forest says: why don’t you come back at 1:30? We’ll do another lesson. Cool, I thought! If I keep this up, I’ll be able to land really well every time in a week or two, then maybe I’ll be able to solo!
I come back at 1:30, and we do more pattern work. It went well, just like the morning lesson. I was close to getting my landing on target each time, and it felt good. At the end of the lesson, for some reason, Forest asked for plane right after we landed–which is funky, usually he lets me taxi and park. Funky, but ok, I’m sure there’s a good reason. I take my hands and feet off the controls and Forest takes the plane. He fast-taxis (like taxiing, but, well, fast. about 40mph) down the runway, turns on the taxiway, then immediately pulls off the taxiway into some random parking spot. Funky, but ok, I’m sure there’s some reason. Forest pulls out airplane logbook and logs the flight, puts it away, then pulls out my logbook from the behind-the-seat wall pocket and begins to log the flight lesson. Funky, but ok, I’m sure there’s some–oh. Uh. Now he has turned to the back of my logbook and is filling in the student solo-flight forms. Oh. Ohhh. At this point, I say something like “Ummm..Forest..you’ve got my gears turning here..I’m kinda wondering..” and he smirks for a moment, then finishes filling out the form.
“Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. You need three takeoffs and landings–come back and pick me up when you’re done. Don’t forget, you need to call ground to ask to taxi for takeoff. Oh and hang on a second, I need to get my coat. Ok, go have fun.”
And with that, Forest hopped out of the plane, closed the door, and lit a cigarette.
*”Forest,” i.e. Forest Kirst, CFII, is the flight instructor I’ve been learning from. He is outstanding.
Why I fly
I spend some time here & there thinking about why I fly. The trivial answer is: because I like to! Of course this begs the not trivial question: why do I like to fly?
Try this: look away and close your eyes for about 30 seconds, and before you open them take three deep & slow breaths. Exactly when you open your eyes, not a moment later, observe the object that happens to be centered in your gaze. What color is it, how is its texture? Is it old or new? Good. Now think about how you saw that object when you opened your eyes. Hopefully there was a fleeting moment, a peculiar moment, in which you saw things differently. Like a quickly fading dream or deja vu, the moment you think about it, it is gone. Dust blown into the wind.
Now. Imagine: when you closed your eyes, suddenly you popped into an other world. This is a magical world–it looks a lot like the one we live in, but also somehow looks different. There are different rules, all sorts of terrifying things that can kill you very very quickly, and best of all, a new type of freedom you’ve never felt before. You have been well trained for the dangers and rules, and you can handle them without too much worry or panic. You can spare some time and energy to soak up the beauty and freedom of this mystic world. And when you open your eyes you are back in this world–you don’t see just one thing newly, you see it all. The whole world. The problems, the pain, the beauty, the suffering and the laughter, you see anew. You stop and smell a flower.
Just like when you closed your eyes a minute ago, this moment fades too. A bit slower, albeit. Soon, maybe ten minutes or maybe a few hours, you have re-calibrated and you function in this world just as you did before you closed your eyes. Well, almost. There is a residual after effect…you are a little bit calmer and a little bit happier. And you remember the other world. And you will be back.
That other world is the sky, and that is why I like to fly.
The ten percent!
Roy–an insecure middle aged man who–most of the time–is a complete a**. Once in a while he opens up and you see the hurting person inside.
Brian–happy go lucky, Forest Gump-ing his way through life, and mostly unbeknownst to him, madly searching for something, something which he doesn’t know what it is.
—
Roy: I chickened out, I didn’t go. Think about all the bad things that could happen!
Brian: Who knows! Who cares! Roy, you gotta be a ten-percenter!
Roy: Huh?
Brian: A ten percenter, like me. See, I’m constantly trying stupid and outrageous stuff, right? Ninety percent of the time it just blows up in my face, but that’s ok, because I rarely use my own name [tongue in cheek].
*pause, for comic effect*
Brian: See, the other 10% of the time when it pays off, it is, a high, like you would’t believe.
Roy: Damn. Why didn’t I have the guts to go.
—
I love Brian Hackett’s philosophy. Brian Hackett is a character in the wonderful 90’s show Wings. Granted, I like for things to work out, generally, more then 10% of the time, but his reasoning is almost dead-center with how I like to live life day to day and year to year. All of the face plants and horrific foot-in-mouth moments and the grinding years of working for some extremely tenuous possibility–it is all worth it for that one moment when I bet and the chips fall my way and oh baby hang on because I am going soaring in the stars. As Babe Ruth says: “I like to swing big, with everything I’ve got. I hit big or I miss big.”