If you blinked – like I did – you probably missed the holidays. They were there, I’m told, because my latest Discover Card bill says so. But as I look back on the latter part of December, 2009, I can’t help but think I must have dozed off sometime around Dec. 9 and work up midway through January.
My point is that I forgot to tell everybody “Happy Holidays.” So consider this an official apology and a belated seasons greetings. Or, if you’re feeling particularly lenient, you can accept this as a very early 2010 Holiday post.
Have I been Flying since my last post? Unfortunately, no. My airplane funds dried out shortly after my second solo flight (you can read about it here if you missed it). I still managed to snag a free ride flight when Kevin tested his Piper Warrior after some routine maintenance (read it here), but apart from that, my feet have been planted firmly on the ground.
That’s the bum news. The good news is the most amazingly awesome Christmas Present Ever:
Merry Christmas, Here’s A Sectional Chart
My cousin, Anna, who is a rock star pilot, bought me a sectional chart of the Southern Idaho area for Christmas, complete with a knee board to go with it. It’s great, even if I don’t know what the heck any of those crazy symbols mean.
Before I get too carried away on one of my typical tangents, let me briefly introduce Anna. At the bright age of 7 or 8 she saw a Blue Angels show and instantly decided she wanted to fly airplanes. So while I was out causing trouble as a high schooler (as much trouble as a science club, jazz band drummer can cause – namely not showing my work on math homework), Anna was building model airplanes and reading book after book about piloting.
By the time she got to high school, she had already been taking airplane lessons. And then she soloed on her 16th birthday. And became a private pilot at 17 years old. Now she’s in Graduate School at the University of Idaho and actually owns (yes – owns!) a vintage era Cessna 170 taildragger. I’ve been trying to con her into a ride along for several month, but schedules, weather patterns or engine starters haven’t permitted. Some day, though.
Dang it! What did I just say about going off on a random tangent? Oh well, Anna is a great pilot and a great person and deserves as many random tangents as possible.
My point is that she got me a section chart that rocks. She also gave me one of her old ground school books to look over (though regrettably I left it at her house on accident), so maybe I’ll figure out how to interpret it.
In the meantime, I’m still trying to sneak my way into any airplane cabin I can find. I knew going into this whole flight training thing that I’d be lucky to solo before running out of money. So I’m counting the fact that I did solo – Twice – as a big moral victory (read about it here if you’re curious).
But every time an airplane flies overhead, it makes me lonesome for the embracing love of a cramped cockpit, the smell of 40-year-old cracked leather, the sound of a propeller cutting through the air and a radio full of panicked pilots worring about yours truly ruining the flight pattern.
