Friday, 6 September 2013

Freedom.

A couple of people have made similar comments to me recently about flying. They all say something along the lines of “You must get an amazing sense of freedom when you are up there.”

Funnily enough, I kind of don’t really. Please don’t misunderstand me, I enjoy flying a great deal but when I’m flying on my own I really don’t have time to stop and smell the roses as it were.
Non flying people don’t realise that it isn’t like driving; you don’t just sit there and watch the world go by, you have to fly the plane, monitor your instruments, keep a listen out for radio chatter, and keep an eye out for traffic. Unlike the road, you can’t predict what direction it might come from either. One extra dimension equals a massive increase of workload.

Although I feel an amazing sense of achievement when I fly solo, I don’t really recall feeling a sense of freedom. On the contrary what I feel is an overwhelming sense of responsibility. I am totally in charge of the plane and all decisions rest on my shoulders.
While it is probably admirable that I take my responsibilities seriously, I feel that maybe I ought to lighten up just a tad.

I’ve got a solo lesson coming up, Bob offered me the option of a solo or dual, learning opportunities a plenty in both options. I hesitated for a while and finally succumbed to the inevitable. I need to build up that solo time.
So I have a new goal. As well as fully accomplishing the slow flight, steep turns and stalls. I want to be free. While I want to focus on what I need to do, I also want to lose the pressing leaden mass that sits on my chest and stomach.

If nothing else, it can’t be good for the weight and balance sheet!

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