The local WX this weekend was beautiful, clear skies, temps in the mid forties, a little windy but not too bad. The wind was just strong enough and coming across the runway enough to make flying the Pacer interesting for an old guy that hasn’t flown tail draggers in more than 30 years.
Pat did her first flight lessons in the Pacer on Saturday and Sunday. I used the time she was practicing to sightsee. Saturday we went up the coast to the north and Sunday we went south. The Oregon coast is a magic place; I never get tired of seeing it.
Strange how as we age we return to things of our youth. I don’t really think I’m trying to slow aging or even trying to recapture youth. It is more a return to the basic things that give pleasure, a return to the reason I chose the road taken. Low and slow with such a feeling of freedom, knowing that the whole world is open to you, that you control the most amazing machine made by man, yet such a simple machine, one that could be built with simple hand tools and by almost anyone.
BTW, teaching Pat is part of the joy, watching her struggle, then understand and gain control. To see the same feeling of accomplishment I had when I first learned to fly. For someone with itchy feet there is nothing to compare with the joy of learning to fly.
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