Guy Prevost
Well Known Member
I've been away from home for most of 3 months. The last two of those without a visit home. For the last year my work has been stressful beyond belief. It's been a year of 60-70 hour work weeks culminating in a 10 minute flight. Pass or fail. I passed; now it's time to get on with life.
First things first. The wife had a day off, so I spent the day enjoying her company and getting re-acquainted to life at home. What a joy to be back among my family! However, lurking in the back of my mind was the lingering question. How would Jane Plane, my aluminum mistress, respond to my absence? Would she awaken to my touch, or remain cold and uncaring as I tried to breathe life back into her. Would she take to the air? Would I be able to handle her if she did? All of these questions lingered in my mind as I attended to the more important and less stressful household needs.
Today the wife was back at work, the pets were fed, the weather was good. I was out of excuses. I examined myself mentally and wondered at the ambivalence I felt towards the trip to the airport. It was a strange feeling. I've never left Jane for this long. Not when she was a freshly conceived empennage, not when she was an infant with only a few hours. She's barely in her adolescence now, with only 110 hours on her electronic clock. My spirits refused to rise as I arrived at the airport. I trolled the local hangars for the usual suspects, stopped at the FBO, and finally made my way to the hangar. As the door raised, there she was. Looking like I never left. Her tires were round, her tanks were full and un-contaminated. I checked her oil and pulled her prop through several times to circulate it. I delayed further by installing the latest software update in her electronic brain. Finally, there were no more excuses. I pulled her out, ran through the pre-start checklist twice and pushed the start button. As she roared to life and settled down to a contended purr, the stress started subsiding. I've done this before! Time to fly.
Run-up was nominal and I started her down the runway after one more quick glance at my takeoff checklist. Holy Smokes! I forgot how quickly she gets off the ground when solo! DA is several thousand feet lower than when I left , allowing me to get nearly 80% power for takeoff. What a treat! We were at pattern altitude before the end of the runway and Westbound. Wings dipping first left then right, as followed the winding desert path of the Rio Puerco. Then a climbing roll and a turn back to home. Traffic was light and a full stop landing wasn't going to satisfy. A quick call to the tower, flaps up, and power in. We're flying once more. Last landing was short field on the numbers, ready to turn off in less than 1000'. Too bad there's not a taxiway there.
As I parked Jane in her spot and gently wiped her down, I marveled at the change that had come over me. Once again Jane was an airplane I knew how to fly. Not another lingering obligation left unanswered. Care, planning, and diligence had paid off. I was flying again. A flurry of thoughts and emotions surrounded me, but most of all I was struck by the lightness of my soul.
First things first. The wife had a day off, so I spent the day enjoying her company and getting re-acquainted to life at home. What a joy to be back among my family! However, lurking in the back of my mind was the lingering question. How would Jane Plane, my aluminum mistress, respond to my absence? Would she awaken to my touch, or remain cold and uncaring as I tried to breathe life back into her. Would she take to the air? Would I be able to handle her if she did? All of these questions lingered in my mind as I attended to the more important and less stressful household needs.
Today the wife was back at work, the pets were fed, the weather was good. I was out of excuses. I examined myself mentally and wondered at the ambivalence I felt towards the trip to the airport. It was a strange feeling. I've never left Jane for this long. Not when she was a freshly conceived empennage, not when she was an infant with only a few hours. She's barely in her adolescence now, with only 110 hours on her electronic clock. My spirits refused to rise as I arrived at the airport. I trolled the local hangars for the usual suspects, stopped at the FBO, and finally made my way to the hangar. As the door raised, there she was. Looking like I never left. Her tires were round, her tanks were full and un-contaminated. I checked her oil and pulled her prop through several times to circulate it. I delayed further by installing the latest software update in her electronic brain. Finally, there were no more excuses. I pulled her out, ran through the pre-start checklist twice and pushed the start button. As she roared to life and settled down to a contended purr, the stress started subsiding. I've done this before! Time to fly.
Run-up was nominal and I started her down the runway after one more quick glance at my takeoff checklist. Holy Smokes! I forgot how quickly she gets off the ground when solo! DA is several thousand feet lower than when I left , allowing me to get nearly 80% power for takeoff. What a treat! We were at pattern altitude before the end of the runway and Westbound. Wings dipping first left then right, as followed the winding desert path of the Rio Puerco. Then a climbing roll and a turn back to home. Traffic was light and a full stop landing wasn't going to satisfy. A quick call to the tower, flaps up, and power in. We're flying once more. Last landing was short field on the numbers, ready to turn off in less than 1000'. Too bad there's not a taxiway there.
As I parked Jane in her spot and gently wiped her down, I marveled at the change that had come over me. Once again Jane was an airplane I knew how to fly. Not another lingering obligation left unanswered. Care, planning, and diligence had paid off. I was flying again. A flurry of thoughts and emotions surrounded me, but most of all I was struck by the lightness of my soul.
