“Hurry up. 66 is a mess.”
I read the text message just as I was starting the car to leave for Manassas. Traffic. I looked at my watch: 3:34 p.m. I had just confirmed with Dulles Aviation that my Discovery Flight at 5:00 was on. I needed to be there 15 minutes in advance. My flight was cancelled Saturday because of inclement weather. I rescheduled for Sunday, and again the flight was cancelled due to weather. Now I had to worry about traffic. Patience isn’t one of my strengths. I didn’t want to reschedule again. I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached the beltway by 4 p.m., beating HOV. I continued west on 66. There were some raindrops. I hoped there was no rain at the airport.
I arrived at the Manassas Airport at 4:50 p.m. I walked in the first door I saw, which led me to a classroom for ground school training. I walked back out and noticed a large sign indicating the main entrance around to the left. I ran around to the main entrance and entered an unassuming lobby. I checked in with Diane at the front desk. “This is Lucas. He’ll be your flight instructor today,” said Diane. We shook hands. Lucas put a small stack onto the glass counter: keys, a clipboard, and a small manual.
“Have you ever been up in a plane before?” Lucas asked with a smile.
“No.” (I’ve been in planes regularly since I was 3 years old. But never like this before.)
We started with a tour of the facility. I looked at a small monitor displaying WSI weather data. I then took a look at a weather chart. “Chart. Not map,” Lucas emphasizes. (Did I say map?) “Maps are used to find treasure.” The small circle encompassed DC. Apparently in the post-9/11 world you now have to file a special flight plan if you are going to enter that airspace.
I then took a look at the flight simulator, as well as the classroom that I walked into the first time.
I was antsy. I didn’t care about the classroom. I wanted to fly.
We walked out to the plane: Cessna-172.
I felt ungainly getting into the plane. Lucas had already done the pre-flight inspection. Keys on the dashboard. And then a flight check-list that went on and on. Fuel, lights, throttle, radio. . . I forgot most of it as soon as we went over it.
My mind wasn’t on the ground, it was on the darkening sky. I stuck my head out the window and screamed out to make sure the area was clear (For real? They do that – like yelling “fore” in golf. . .). And then we headed out, and I got to taxi a little. It was strange to use my feet to steer. I tried to go to the left. Nothing. Then the plane went way to the left. “There’s a slight delay with the pedal, but you don’t have to use much pressure,” Lucas reminded me. Oh right. I remember that.
Lucas called out to the tower. It was a little odd hearing all this background noise and communicating through a headset. I let the throttle out as told, and suddenly, almost magically, we were off – in the air. “Good Lord,” I thought, “I’m in the sky.” There was a nice sunset. We flew around the airport – I saw the Target and some other landmarks I had passed on the way there. One touch and go, and then around again. This time I steered some. That’s right. Me. Steering a plane.
All too soon, we were preparing to land. I watched the two lights to the left. It was dark already. Landing is not about going in slow. Apparently, it is about being right at a certain range – neither too fast, nor too slow. And adjusting the nose of the plane make the difference. And then we were on the ground again. A little taxing. More flight list checks upon landing. I helped push the plane into place. Then I learned a knot, whose name I immediately forgot – only that it had “double” in it. I tied one side of the plane. We walked back. I had my first ½ hour of flight time.
I paid my bill, asked some questions about lessons, and headed out. I felt a little giddy heading to the car. Overall, my first time up was a bit surreal. And very cool. All I knew was I wanted to fly again. Solo. And that was a good 19.5 hours of flight away.
