UP IN THE AIR

The long tarmac glares before my eyes. The black macadam trails away in the distance. I walk with an unusual gait and there is a spring to my steps. My new aviator glasses shield the bright sunlight, and my shirt is sticking to my back from the sweat. The swanky leather jacket that I have worn for the occasion is not helping me at all, nor do the skin tight denims and the cowboy boots. Well what’s the fuss? It’s a Solo, I am going to fly, without the instructor, without the bossy instructions, and I am going to be free. I am going to leave the earth behind, the crowd behind, and I am going to be my self.

The Beachcraft Baron 58 is waiting for me down the runway. It’s a very agile aircraft and pretty easy to handle. The twin turbo props can hurl you through the atmosphere at a max speed of 260Knots per hour, though it is advisable to keep your muscle under 220 knots.  I climb into the spacious cockpit and put on my headphones. I check the flaps, the ailerons, and the rudder. I set my altimeter to zero, decide my heading and ask for permission from the control tower. The usual radio chatter greets me and this time I am the Zulu. It was my great privilege to shout into the microphone that Zulu is ready for take – off.

I start my engines, and it turns me on to hear the rumble of the turbo props, suppressed vibrations growling through my innards. I push the throttle controls forward and the turbos revs up. I disengage the breaks and she shoots through the tarmac, eating it up in frenzy. One eye on the Speedo, other eye on the windshield, I wait for the needle to touch the TAS (take off air speed). She touches 140 knots in no time and I push the control column back wards. She climbs majestically into the sky, leaving the runway behind. My stomach jumps into my mouth as gravity tries to bring me back to the earth, but I am way too powerful, I am invincible.

I climbs to 2000 feet in no time and levels off. My altitude indicator shows my beauty is perfectly aligned with the horizon; I pull up my landing gears and let the world as I know fade away. A new world unfurls around me – I can see the winding roads, I can see the arduous mountains, the sea is glimmering away to north and the houses looks like match boxes. I bank to left, the turn coordinator showing me the degree of turn. I use the rudder and the aileron trims, everything is going perfect. My airspeed indicator shows that I am a little fast. I pull back my throttle, bring her down to 160 Knots and align my self to the runway. I am roughly five miles out of the runway and cruising at 2000 feet. I have to land and it is very difficult for me. Every time you go up there, you wish you never have had to land.

I bring out my flaps to 50%, she slows down, I have a visual, and I am perfectly aligned for the descent. I bring down the landing gears and goes down to 1000 feet. I extend my flaps 100% and pull back the throttle. She glides smoothly towards the runway, my airspeed showing 110 knots. I bring her down and down, she kisses the tarmac smoothly and I extend my air breaks. She is out of her element; she is just an ugly piece of metal. She shudders and groans as I try to bring her to the stop. I cut the engine and she comes to a halt.

Suddenly a wave of uneasiness washes over me. Is it me or is it the baron that is out of its element? It feels like I can’t breathe, I want to be back there – UP IN THE AIR, where I have a place – the entire place to call my own, where I have no worries and I have no time tables to keep, where I have no ties and no bondages, where I have all the world to myself.