Son Number One’s birthday was celebrated by going flying along with his wife and for his first flight-my grandson! First time up for the little guy and he did great aside from problems associated with an adult headset on a two year old noggin. We arrived just as low ceilings and mists were burning off, soon to be replaced by bright blue sky.
It’s intimidating when you walk out on the ramp at only two and a half feet tall. There were jets and light airplanes blasting off. The control tower loomed large overhead and in front of us: The B-17 Liberty Belle. One of only a dozen of these huge bombers that remain airworthy. Machine guns bristled out of the fuselage and the Flying Fortress still looks like she’s ready for a fight. Photo snaps all around and I was impressed by the courage of the men who flew the risky missions over Europe with low probability of surviving the required 25 missions. B-17 rides would be available but today we would be travelling in something a bit more modest.
I vowed this flight would not be a repeat of what happened last time. The oldest son was on board when we encountered turbulence ending his aerial adventures. That was nine years ago so if it wasn’t perfect I would do only a couple jaunts around the pattern. I didn’t want another decade to tick by ‘til we tried again. Upon climbing out I was relieved to find smooth air. Small puffs of clouds drifted by and began to vanish altogether. The patchwork farmland faded into the distance after ten miles. Too much excitement would be unwelcome so nary a lazy eight or steep turn would be on the menu.
I think about flying when I’m not flying. There are other interests to be sure but none that have the adventure, challenge and sometimes G-loaded fun of aviation. If you can share it with family and friends, even better.
So it all ended up quite well. Everyone had a good time and who knows?
Maybe the grandson might want a turn at the controls someday.