The early bird

I've decided I want to be Dirk Pitt when I grow up.  He's the character in Clive Cussler novels and in the film Sahara based on one of said novels.  He dives on ship wrecks, lives in an old airplane hangar, drives awesome vintage cars, and always seems to get the girl.  I'm not seeing a downside here.  Anyway, I highly recommend the books, good times.
Last night I went over to a friend's house to watch The Lion King (don't judge me), and as the night was winding down and coming to an end I was invited to join them for an early morning outing at the local Airfield.  One of the guys from church apparently has an airplane and was willing to take us out on little jaunts at around 5:30 in the morning.  I've flown on commercial jets from Wisconsin to Arizona, New York, and England, but I've never been on a small private plane.  I was super stoked!

Due to an unfortunate drip right over my normal mattress I elected to sleep in one of the quarter berths (beds in the aft section of the cabin extending partially under the cockpit).  It was pretty comfy, but I still get nightmares that I might die of random asphyxiation. (Holy Spell Check Batman!  I got that word right on the first try!!!).  Anyway, I awoke at 4:45, rolled out of bed, picked up my blue-haired brother, Max, and drove the 15 minutes to the airport.  We were met there by Jay, the guy with the planes, and he showed us a little bit about modern airplanes with cunnard style lifting surfaces, and about the THREE planes that he has.  He was there to help us put the mast up on the Sea Scout boat, and now that I have had a little peek into his amazing workshop/hangar I think I should recruit him to help me redo some of the wiring on Aequitas.  This is where the Dirk Pitt reference comes in.  The workshop hangar had a little loft for storing stuff, (sleeping in?), a couple planes in varying stages of restoration, and random recumbent bicycles lying about.  The other hangar had a couple sweet motorcycles in them (one a really nice Triumph with a greyed out Union Jack painted on the gas tank), and the airplane we were to be taking into the skies.  It was a tiny two seater called an Ercoupe (pronounced Air-Coupe).  It was gleaming in polished aluminum and had a two part retractable bubble canopy.  I loved the double tail and the overall simplicity of the plane.  I was even more amazed when Jay began to pull it out of the hangar by hand.  Apparently it only weighs about 200 pounds more than my last motorcycle.  Stephanie was first to go for a ride, followed by me.  I was so glad I brought my camera.  As I climbed into the miniscule cockpit and placed the noise cancelling earphones on my head I was greeted by the most relaxing assortment of lobby music.  I assumed that he would take us up and fly us around and maybe explain what he was doing from time to time.  Not only did Jay explain perfectly what was going on, but he had me do pretty much everything.  I started the engine, revved up the engine, taxied down the runway being careful to steer with the pedals as well as the yoke, and then got to take off on my own!  It was amazing how easily the Ercoupe climbed into the sky, and how naturally the controls responded to me.  We flew towards the lake, and circled the harbor so I could take pictures of my home from the air.  The lake seems so much less treacherous from 1,000 feet.  As we headed back my microphone kept cutting out so we switched headsets.  I'm not quite sure if this was wisest since I was the one in need of hearing instructions, not giving them.  We got back to the airstrip and he began telling me how to line up for landing.  What was that about landing? I thought this was the part where you took over!  Since the headset was crackling in and out of service all I heard was ........white light......reds.....in line.....no......bad.  From what I'd heard, seen, and read landing was the most difficult part of any airplane experience.  I lined up as best I could and tried to keep her level as we approached the runway.  We got closer and closer to the pavement.  We were only going about 65 MPH, but I had noticed how frail the landing gear had looked before taking off.  Foot by foot we fell until there was the slightest bump and we were on the ground.  "Was that it?...That was easy!"  I was so proud to have not killed us, and amazed that Jay had actually let me take off, fly and land.  Come to think of it, he only really took over when I wanted to snap some pictures.  All in all, amazing experience!

It was while my brother was up in the air that I remembered I had to be at work an hour and a half earlier than normal, so we had to leave before I could really say thanks.  I'll have to buy that man a nice card or something.  But then again we are going to be taking him and his wife sailing on Sunday.  Even trade?  Maybe.