Tigger takes flight.

I haven’t flown in the left hand seat for a good few months now. It isn’t until I firm up plans with Bob to get me back and current again that I realise just how much I’ve missed it.

Despite the heat of the day (a hot and humid 30 + degrees) I barely notice the discomfort until we climb on board and Bob comments “Welcome to the Cessna greenhouse!”

It takes me a few minutes to get into the flow of things, I’m too used to the view from the right hand seat and my checklist doesn’t flow as easily as it once did. I don’t care though, just unbelievably excited to be back behind the yoke again.

I give a mental chuckle as the hot, finicky fuel injected engine takes what seems like an eternity to kick over and start. Idly I’m wondering what’s worse, having to faff around with carb heat or the inevitable summer vapour lock.

Anyways we get her started and I talk to ground, glad to realise that my radio work is still as sharp as ever, despite my jaunts to unicomed airports and their casual conversations over the airwaves. As we taxi to the runway Bob gently chides me for riding the brakes. I, of course deny all such knowledge of that particular action whilst sliding my feet surreptitiously down the pedals.

I’m already having a blast and we haven’t even left the ground yet. We line up and I smoothly advance the power. I check that we are generating full rpm and apply the slightest bit of back pressure on the controls. It is summer and I need to let her come up and off the runway in her own sweet time.

She does and we climb away, my face beaming as we leave the runway behind us, I reach down and then the grin temporarily fades a little…

...”crap…no rudder trim!” I curse, reaching for a control that isn’t there.

“right rudder” Bob reminds me as we yaw away.

“yeah, yeah I guess I’m going to have to use my legs then” I laugh.

As we head out to the practice area, I’m like a kid in a candy store. “Weeeeeeeeee!!! This is fun”  I’m bouncing up and down like Tigger and its getting hard to tell where my enthusiasm ends and the bumps of day time thermal heating begin.

Obviously Bob decides he’s had enough of this overabundance of enthusiasm and sticks me under the hood.

Guaranteed to shut me up!