Learning to Fly

Sitting in an airport several days ago with nothing else to occupy my mind, I decided to calculate the number of times I had flown in an airplane. The result: 600! I was momentarily stunned. How in the world, I thought, could a small town boy like me ever have become a frequent flyer? True, as a kid I used to dream of flying all the time but only under my own power and not in an aircraft. In my simple way of thinking I was more of an Icarus than an aviator—the thought of routine air travel as a passenger or a pilot never even crossed my mind. Yet here I was again, waiting for a flight that was already over an hour late, and just chalking up the delay as another minor inconvenience. It’s true, I mused, nowadays I’m as comfortable in an airline terminal as I am in a grocery store.

However, more than half of my current years on this earth had passed before I took to the friendly skies on a regular basis. At age 22, the wonderful church I belong to agreed to fly me to and from the great state of Texas at no charge, if I would agree to pay my own living expenses for the two years in between. I remember boarding the big jet liner in Salt Lake in the midst of a ferocious snow storm, and deplaning in Dallas to a blast of stifling heat and humidity. That was my first flight and after my second, 24 months later, I had no reason to assume there would be anymore. But as fate would have it, a couple of years later I was back in the air again; although this time in a craft nearly as far removed from a jet as possible. Somehow, a neighbor of mine in the little town of Loa, Utah, managed to procure a small 2 seat airplane not much bigger than some of the radio control models my friends fly today. He invited me to go up for a spin in the tiny turbo prop and as I squeezed into the compact cockpit, I clearly remember thinking, if it’s my time to die, then at least it will be quick! This was my 3rd flight and needless to say, I survived.

At age 30, approximately 4 years after my adventure in the mini airplane, I began a new career and with it came the appellation: Business Traveler. That was over 25 years ago and I’ve been flying ever since. Since my original estimate of 600 take offs and landings, I’ve revised the number down by about 20 % but it’s still mind boggling to consider the places I’ve flown and the frequency of my air travel. Even more amazing to me is the fact that my flying experience is not limited to commercial airliners. I’ve flown on small planes and large, on a private jet (very cool), a helicopter, and even a glider. On one 2 hour flight in a little 4 seater, the pilot gave me an abbreviated flying lesson and even allowed me to take the stick for an hour or so!

I once sat behind the co-pilot’s seat on a short SkyWest flight and watched as the only other person on board—the pilot—made an instrument landing in near white-out conditions. It was a bit unnerving when he took out a manual and began to read in preparation for touch down but at least whatever he learned produced the desired outcome. On another occasion, it took me 17 hours to fly from Salt Lake City to Cincinnati because of severe weather and ice bound airports. But except for these two instances, I’ve only been scared nearly to death while flying about 20 or 30 other times and that’s really not many out of 600! (Or even 480.)

Although I consider myself a seasoned air traveler, the thrill of accelerating down the run way and lifting off into the wild blue yonder has not diminished. It’s true that 9/11 related security measures, carrier financial woes, and fewer daily flights have made frequent flying more of a hassle but I think I have adjusted quite well. Occasionally I do miss the free meals but then remind myself that most of the time the food wasn’t safe to eat anyway. I also miss the polite and attractive flight attendants but hey, I’m sure these washed up professional wrestlers the airlines recruit nowadays serve a purpose—terrorists on board would have to think twice about tangling with them!

I love to fly. 600 times? 480? Whatever the actual number, it’s considerably more than this boy one generation removed from the farm ever imagined and I don’t see the frequency decreasing anytime soon. Hopefully, what goes up in one piece will keep coming down in one piece, and there will be many happy takeoffs and landings yet to come.