I was looking through a junk drawer in my man cave the other day and stumbled upon my first pilot’s log book that I’d misplaced years ago. As I was looking through the thin black book filled with tails of daring and luck, OK mostly luck, I noticed the date of my first flight, April 8, 1983. I did the math, that took a few minutes, and came to the startling conclusion that, as of today I’ve been flying for thirty years.
Now as I’ve previously stated my early flying were filled with luck, else I’d not be writing this post today. Come to think about it my flying career has been filled with the most extraordinary luck, mostly due to my putting myself in situations where it’s needed. Here are a few of my early mistakes and escapades that I learned from.
13 hours- Shortly after my first solo and against my instructors orders I left the airport and went off on my own to try my hand a some light aerobatics. I learned that in airplanes seat belts weren’t just for accidents. They sometimes come in handy for to keep you in your seat when the gravity goes screwy.
31 hours- without even a private pilot’s license in my wallet I bought a Twin Comanche with two of my Army buddies.
42 hours- ON my last solo cross country I decided that it would be a good job to buzz my buddy who was ice fishing on a lake close to my flight path. I circled the lake, located his truck and did a very nice dive bombing run on my friend as he sat on the ice. As I pulled up I realized that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.
The list goes on and on and includes crashing the Twin Comanche, who didn’t see that one coming? I was in the back of the plane for that one but that’s a story for another day.
In our youth we rely on luck to gain experience. Later in life, experience is used to avoid situations where one would need luck to survive. At least that’s the way I see it. One of the pitfalls of youth is thinking you’re immortal. I know I did!