AltonD
Well Known Member
Great story of you and your son. That is what being a dad is all about.
[ed. Thank you! dr
If you didn't visit the front page:
Monday, Apr. 18, 2011. 1052z
Sunday morning Tate and I drove out to the airport at 0700 - just a Dad and his son. We had the entire field to ourselves save a few birds that were waking up. We discovered there in the morning still, with nothing to disturb us, that we could clap our hands once and hear the echo from the hangar across the runway. This escalated into shouts of 'HEY!' and 'BLAH!' and 'BUGGA BUGGA!' We were in our element - cavemen yelling at a building. I think only guys do these things...
Anyway, we fired up Flash and launched into a still morning. No threats on the screen, only the first wisps of wind on the water.
For the past couple of years it has always been me that has asked him if he wants to fly the plane. I think most of the time he just says yes to be polite. He always has to strain to see over the panel, even with a booster, and his feet are....well....feet from the rudder pedals. He never flies for long. But, he's been growing.
Yesterday was different. Even though it was blowing 37kts at 3000', in the plane it was rock steady. Like close your eyes and imagine you're parked on the ramp kinda steady. We were turning left crosswind and leaving the pattern to the east when he dropped the bomb, "Dad, can I fly?"
Heaven. "You have the airplane." "I have the airplane."
Straight to his school - he knows the way. Clockwise orbit so he could see it in the turn. Dropped a couple hundred feet through 180 degrees but recovered. Over to the new bridge at the lake. Off that little creek on the west side up the road to our house, then over to his friend Ryan's house. Twelve minutes we did this, then he gave it back like a pro, "You have the airplane." "I have the airplane." A 10-yr old pro.
I turned back for the field and asked if he was ready to get on the ground. "Nope." "You want to orbit the speedway?" "Yep." Dial up 135.15 and ask for permission. Granted.
After a lap we switched back over to 22.9 and did a touch 'n go. The second landing was even better, and the air was perfect. Brochure landing that you luck into every now and then. On rollout we saw our friend Randy in his truck over on the west side. He pointed to Tate as we rolled by. Tate pointed back. Guy stuff.
The high point? About five minutes into the portion of the flight Tate was flying, he looked over at me and saw me smiling. He said, "What?" "Oh, nothing", I said.
In 35 years or so he'll understand. If he has a son...and an airplane.]
If you didn't visit the front page:
Monday, Apr. 18, 2011. 1052z
Sunday morning Tate and I drove out to the airport at 0700 - just a Dad and his son. We had the entire field to ourselves save a few birds that were waking up. We discovered there in the morning still, with nothing to disturb us, that we could clap our hands once and hear the echo from the hangar across the runway. This escalated into shouts of 'HEY!' and 'BLAH!' and 'BUGGA BUGGA!' We were in our element - cavemen yelling at a building. I think only guys do these things...
Anyway, we fired up Flash and launched into a still morning. No threats on the screen, only the first wisps of wind on the water.
For the past couple of years it has always been me that has asked him if he wants to fly the plane. I think most of the time he just says yes to be polite. He always has to strain to see over the panel, even with a booster, and his feet are....well....feet from the rudder pedals. He never flies for long. But, he's been growing.
Yesterday was different. Even though it was blowing 37kts at 3000', in the plane it was rock steady. Like close your eyes and imagine you're parked on the ramp kinda steady. We were turning left crosswind and leaving the pattern to the east when he dropped the bomb, "Dad, can I fly?"
Heaven. "You have the airplane." "I have the airplane."
Straight to his school - he knows the way. Clockwise orbit so he could see it in the turn. Dropped a couple hundred feet through 180 degrees but recovered. Over to the new bridge at the lake. Off that little creek on the west side up the road to our house, then over to his friend Ryan's house. Twelve minutes we did this, then he gave it back like a pro, "You have the airplane." "I have the airplane." A 10-yr old pro.
I turned back for the field and asked if he was ready to get on the ground. "Nope." "You want to orbit the speedway?" "Yep." Dial up 135.15 and ask for permission. Granted.
After a lap we switched back over to 22.9 and did a touch 'n go. The second landing was even better, and the air was perfect. Brochure landing that you luck into every now and then. On rollout we saw our friend Randy in his truck over on the west side. He pointed to Tate as we rolled by. Tate pointed back. Guy stuff.
The high point? About five minutes into the portion of the flight Tate was flying, he looked over at me and saw me smiling. He said, "What?" "Oh, nothing", I said.
In 35 years or so he'll understand. If he has a son...and an airplane.]
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