My Pilot Hat - Part One

I've listed quite a few hats I've worn over the years but some of them were not worn long. Take for instance my pilot hat. No, I'm not talking about riverboat pilot, I am referring to my short lived flying experiences.

I have never enjoyed flying and back in the late 70's it would drink a couple good shots of Crown Royal before I could board a plane. My friend, Dyan, lived in Florida and would send me tickets from time to time to visit her. I'd stop by the airport bar, throw back my whiskey, then somehow force myself onto the plane chanting my mantra "It will be okay!". Dyan would laugh at my trepidation because she owned her own plane and flew regularly. When I'd visit with her, all of her friends were also pilots and we would take flights around Miami and the nearby islands! Dyan finally decided that the best way to get me over my fear of flying was to learn how to fly.

Dyan tying down her high wing Cessna

With birthday and Mother's Day money I went to Lunken Airport and signed up for lessons. My stepfather even threw in a couple bucks and told me that he had taken flying lessons and had a pilot's license for air long before his pilot's license for the river. Oh, how little our parents tell us of their youth. Unfortunately he also told me that sitting on the runway, waiting for his turn to take off, the student pilot in front of him went up and then immediately back down, killing himself and his instructor. He decided that the odds were now in his favor and continued his lessons. Yikes! What was I getting myself in to?

I sat through some one-on-one class time and then we headed for the plane. Dyan and insisted that I fly a "low winger". My instructor taught me how to preflight a Beechcraft Sundowner and we climbed in. First problem, my legs were too short to reach the pedals. We went back into the lounge area and pulled two cushions off one of the sofas and he placed one behind me and I sat on the other. I could reach the pedals, just barely. Like rudders on a boat, the pedals not only brake, they also turn the airplane right and left. The joystick actually banks and turns the plane at angles. We sat in the cockpit, wearing headsets, waiting for the tower to ask questions and give directions. I had been beside Dyan on many flights as she chatted with the tower and I wrongly assumed that it was clear communication. However, when I sat next to my instructor, he answered their questions and I had no idea of what either of them were saying! I asked him once if he was frightened to fly with new students. He said that there was nothing I could get us into that he couldn't get us out of. Somehow I wasn't too confident in that statement.

Nonetheless, we sat on the runway, dripping with sweat, waiting our turn to fly. (Its hot in the cockpit until you are in the air) As he and the tower talked gibberish I gave the plane some gas and she shimmied, eager for the sky. When we finally were given the go ahead, I piloted her down the runway, giving her all the power she needed as she jumped along, finally taking off. As she took off into the air, it all became clear. The take-off is the thrill that latches on and makes you love to fly. Climbing into the air, it was hard to focus on the switches and wheels and ailerons and trim and all the other parts and pieces of flying. I just wanted to look out my side window, past the wing and watch the world go by. I mention the side window because I was too short to see out of the front window as we ascended. The control panel was taller than my head and my instructor laughed and said, "IF you could see the horizon, you would head along the river due east". Luckily as I trimmed the nose after the climb and sustained altitude, I could pull myself up just enough to get a glimpse of where I was headed. Most of my land direction was through my left hand window. My first flight was short and sweet and we headed back to Lunken. Coming in to land was terrifying! We got closer and closer to the runway as my instructor said, "Prudence, the run way's over here" pointing to his right. The stupidest thing a student pilot does is turn the "wheel" (joystick) in the direction you want to go. Turning the wheel to the right causes you to bank to the right or in other words, to turn the plane on its side. He patiently corrected my mistake and with my feet I turned the plane toward the correct runway and with a bounce or two landed the plane on solid ground. However, my next problem was that even with the cushion behind me, I couldn't put the brakes in far enough to stop the plane! Once again my instructor took over and brought us to a stop. I was soaking wet from the heat in the cockpit and the fear and exhilaration that I felt after completing my first lesson.

Jim and the girls were waiting to greet me when we came back to the office after shutting down and tying off the plane. Jim drove home as I sat in the car, recalling the entire lesson, shaking like a leaf!