Last Thursday I woke up in a sweat. Yes, I know, at my age there could be another source for nighttime sweats but this time it was just good old-fashioned happens-at-every-age fear. What if the pilot has a heart attack mid-flight? Or some necessary part falls to the earth (arriving right before we do)? What was a mother of two thinking of going up in a can held aloft by a single-prop?
When I pick up Erin to head over to the death trap, she breezes in my car looking like she’s ready to head to the Hamptons. She’s so comfortably nonchalant about the whole experience, I’m almost convinced this wasn’t a huge mistake.
She was right (I don’t often admit that). Taking over the steering from the instructor, we both actually flew the plane! The zen-calm of our instructor (Max at Justice Aviation in Santa Monica) got me past my fear that I would suddenly forget whether to pull or push the controls, sending us into a nose dive. Turns out, the flight was awesome – the weather and the views were spectacular! The thrill of the experience easily overshadowed all my fears, making this a “We Never” I would definitely do again.