Last weekend Scott checked something off his "must do before I die" list. He flew a plane! For Christmas in 2008 the boys and I got Scott a 'Discovery Flight', which is basically an introductory flying lesson.
Little did we know that Scott was going to do nearly all the flying -- Scott sat in the captains seat and did the take-off, flew for about an hour, and then lined us up with the runway and got us within feet of landing on the ground before the instructor took over.
We were amazed that after a few minutes of explaining the instruments to Scott, the instructor told Scott to fire up the engine and taxi the plane on over to the run-way. By himself. And then Scott made the plane take off! While I have full confidence in Scott, this is about when I started freaking out. In that small aircraft it felt like we were being bounced on the end of a string. I just gripped the seat and stared straight ahead for the first 10 minutes. But then I saw our neighborhood below us, and this great view of Lake Conroe:
Once we were in the air the instructor pointed out the sites below us and gave maneuvering challenges for Scott to try, such as changing our altitude, turning, or selecting a site visible in the distance and then flying us to it. I can only think of two times the instructor intervened and piloted the plane-- once after we were already up in the air to just level us off or something, and then just before the wheels touched down on the runway again. Thankfully, Scott was a natural. Doesn't he look the part?
In fact, Scott asked questions about some more advanced piloting stuff, which lead to my my favorite quote by the instructor which began with: "Now that I know you are not totally bad at this" I will let you do something that I don't usually do on first flights. He then proceeded to teach Scott some fine tuning on how to use the rudders for even smoother turns. It was really amazing how good Scott was at maneuvering that plane from the moment he sat in it. Much to my relief, we all survived the flight.
I loved watching familiar landmarks from above. We could not have asked for a more beautiful, clear day to fly. From The Woodlands we could even see downtown Houston! See the 'tiny' buildings along the horizon?
I fretted over this flight for weeks, feeling certain that we would crash in a fiery ball of death and in one fell swoop leave our boys orphans. And it didn't help that when I mentioned our upcoming flight to my sister, her first response was "Don't wear synthetics; they will melt to your skin if you crash. Leather is a better option. That sounds fun though!" Thanks, sis.
When we signed a waiver before the flight, I included the phone number of the friend who was watching our boys, and instructed the receptionist that "this person has our children. You'll need to call her if we die." The receptionist laughed. But I was serious.
But evidently I had no need to be so worried. We had a great time and I would jump at the chance to do it again. But only if Scott was captain.
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