My Pilot

I love to fly. Ever since I was a little kid and flew with my mom to Texas, I was captivated by the whole idea of being able to get up above the world moving so fast, and see everything from a different perspective. I think I was probably less than 5 years old at the time, but I remember some details about that day. I remember that my mother bought me a jelly biscuit. I remember flying into San Antonio in the late evening and watching all the little city lights that seemed like specs below. I remember that my mother got me a visit with the pilots to see the cockpit that day, and that she had a conversation with the stewardess about whether or I could sit by the window seat on an exit aisle.

I bet your thinking I'm going to say something about how our perspectives have changed since we've been here at the school, but that isn't really what I had in mind. You see, the most critical part of flying an airplane is really the landing. Any numbskull can keep a plane in the air (assuming you have fuel), but it takes a very skilled person to land one. Being an aerospace engineer by training, I have a keen interest in this part of the flight because there are 2 really neat things that happen. First, when the plane reaches an altitude equal to the length of the plane's wingspan, something happens called ground effect which gives the plane a boost of lift causing the flight path to flatten out. Pilots all know they have to account for this or they will actually overshoot the runway every time. The second thing that happens is the landing flare. To bleed off speed, the pilot gently pulls back on the stick causing the nose to rise and the plane to lose speed, gently stalling and dropping the plane to the ground. These 2 events together cause the plane to have about 10 seconds of very smooth gliding just before landing where the outside wind gusts don't seem to buffet the plane very much. Then, just after this peaceful glide, wham! The tires hit the ground and screech a little. All of a sudden, the plane has transitioned from its slowest speed of flight, to its fastest speed on the ground. For the first time since the flight began, you realize how very fast the plane is really moving as you see the runway lights zipping by. The brakes vibrate; the plane shutters and makes all kinds of sounds as it slows down.

The funny thing is that I am so focused on this process that when the plane begins ground effect, I feel as though time stands still. I feel connected to the plane and the hands of the pilot holding the stick. I have to put my trust in his ability to make that transition from air to ground. Some pilots make it very smooth. But I've been on planes a few times when it really slammed down onto the tarmac. A few times, the plane started swerving left and right while the pilot was trying to get it under control. That's rather unnerving to me, because I'm always thinking in the back of my mind, "I wonder if you can actually roll an airplane?!"

I suppose the point I'm trying to make, is that this imagery seems to be the best way I can describe the season of life I'm in right now. I'm gliding in this place protected momentarily from the turbulence of the air and the harshness of the ground. I know their is a transition coming up fast, and I'm finding I have to again put my trust in a man sitting up front in a cockpit, behind a door that I can't see. Gee, I hope he's there...with both hands on the controls. I hope he remembered the flaps. The approach seems smooth, and I'm feeling at one with the plane and the pilot for the first time since the flight began. If I can't trust THIS pilot, who can I trust???

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