2651 Romeo

Yesterday I took a flying lesson. The hardest--or at least the most trying--part of it was getting to the Essex County Airfield in New Jersey. Even at 11AM on a Tuesday morning navigating the traffic entering the Lincoln Tunnel was a chore - it felt more like a Friday. In fact, since I got back from tour, New York's felt hot and oversubscribed. Either more people are here because it's the summer or more people are out on the streets because of the weather. Either way, too many people. Not enough speed. Go play down your own end.

My instructor was late. Not the most auspicious of starts and while he was polite and apologised, I didn't feel reassured when he told me he was late because he'd got lost on his previous lesson--they'd tried to land at the wrong airfield.

Still, once I stepped through a door into a hanger full of small single prop Cessnas I didn't care so much. There is definitely something exciting about aircraft, especially piles of them in a big shed. He rushed us through the pre-flight checklist where I felt like a kid waiting for the batteries to be put into his Christmas present.

This is what we flew in. its a Cessna 172.




Taxiing is hard - you steer the plane on the ground by moving the rudder with your feet. I was crap at that; it was like my Salsa lessons except without the tinkly music and the B.O.

Then we lined-up for take-off.





When we got to Five Hundred feet the instructor gave me the controls and told me to turn right while still climbing to One Thousand Feet. It was exactly the same feeling as first driving a car where there are too many simple things to do at once. It pitches, rolls and yaws; it accelerates or stalls; it drifts off-course. The mild wind bounced the aircraft and buffeted us around, which gave the feeling of flying diagonally.

I kind of got the hang of it soon enough (thanks, in no small part, to X-plane 8.60 the simulator programme I've been practising on / playing with instead of writing and/or advancing Albert's next European tour - Sorry Albert....) and suddenly there I was flying over New Jersey; looking down on the I-287, turning 180º above Lincoln Park Airfield at 1200 feet and doubling back for the instructor to bring us in to land. Sitting in a cockpit for landing is a rush like few others. And I've tried many.

In the far distance you can see Manhattan. And below us, the good people of Montclair, NJ: you poor, unsuspecting fools....







It was the toppest fun I've had in a long time. I'd love to be good at it, or even competent. It's completely addictive (or maybe that's just me..?) and, I imagine, a lifestyle one could immerse oneself in--like surfing, or diving or somesuch. I could see how one would want to, but not necessarily how one could afford to.

For now, I might try taking cheap introductory lessons wherever I can. My next chance will be Baginton Airport but in truth I've got my eye on Santa Monica Municipal to try flying over Venice Beach and the Pacific. How boss would that be?