Shellbell's Flight Adventure
Shelley J Alongi

 

I’d like to share with you something that I wrote in August, 2002 about my first flight in a C172. I have been publishing some stories with a pilot as the protagonist so I thought if you’ve been reading those you could see by reading this just how passionate I am about small planes! I hope you enjoy this and if you haven’t read my stories, and decide to do so, enjoy!

ShellBell Cessna Queen of Bells Over and Out!

August 9, 2002
Well, some of you know I've had this thing about planes, lately. Well, I
probably should say more than lately, but it has only been in recent months
that my interest has been fanned to fever pitch, culminating this evening
after a million hours spent slavishly reading articles about planes and
pilots, and talking to pilots, and probably annoying them, or making them
laugh, or rub their heads in absolute amazement and wonder (a big assumption
on my part anyway), in my first ride in a Cessna 172. It was a Skyhawk,
trainer plane. Let me just run down a few of the details!

Morning, Aug 9

Woke up after being up till 2:00 in the morning trying to read articles by
this one pilot, thinking, oh, great, what did I just read here? Oh,oh, no,
can't do this! Shook my head, Never try to read an intellectual logical
pilot's work after being in Jacuzzi and said, no, way, my dear, I love your
work, but I'm really out of here! So I got up this morning with four kids
piled on my bed, and their mom, and greeted the day with the kids laughter
and Melanie hogging up my time. We progressed to two hours of pancake
breakfast and Shelley slavishly doing the dishes. It was the only thing
that would keep me distracted.

We decided at 1:00 to go get my paycheck, which did not materialize because
I had gotten it in July, but hadn't really paid attention or something. I
was frazzled. Oh, dear God no, that means I have to cancel this flight and,
oh, brother, if I had to do that, I would just cry. It had been along time
since I cried about anything! Ok, Shelley, don't cry in front of four kids,
here, just go home, think this one out, be logical, just figure it out. So
I did. Before I got home, I got on the phone to my dad, whom I don't call
for help unless my life is ending, and in this case, a little four-seater
plane without me in it was going to be my undoing! I said, please could you
just drive me to the airport, I could take care of the rest, it was that I
didn't have the money for cab fare to the airport.
"You said if I needed you in an emergency, call,I'm calling!"

My father is wonderful! He showed up at 6:00 to get me. But before that, I
went back from my paycheck adventures, answered a few emails! One of the
pilots I've been talking to was going to come with me and bring his wife
along, but last night while we were frolicking in the pool he called and
said he couldn't do it. He seemed really excited when I called on Wednesday
and said "hey everyone can't come do you guys want to come?" I sent him an
email to which he responded "have a great flight..we're leaving tonight for
Colorado." Well, when there's a choice between the Cessna and a road trip
to Colorado, who loses? It's up to you, isn't it?

the kids were still hanging about so we all went to the store and bought
water and film for the camera. then I came home got on my black flying
outfit and said, ok, here goes nothing! the kids left, leaving the place in
absolute silence. An hour before I was to leave for the airport, I wrote
this.

Last minute thoughts before the Cessna

Don't forget your other ear ring!

Don't forget the camera!

Don't forget the checkbook!

Don't, by all means, bother your pilots anymore! Poor, wonderful, generous,
helpful, extremely patient pilots! OH, why not, it's the only passion you'
ve honestly admitted to you're entire life.

Miss you d and s

DON'T DRINK ANYMORE WATER!

DON'T EAT! you're REALLY OK, JUST DON'T EAT! SAVE IT for later WHEN YOU
CAN RELISH the experience!

Carolyn, a lady from work who called with a complaint and needed a listening
ear today said I was brave! ? MY Mom would think I just need sex! Ok,
that's one person's opinion!

It's been hot today. Turbulence?

I was literally writing these things down as I was going through the house
getting ready!

God, it's quiet in here! The kids all gone, just, me, you, and the Cessna
looming like some unknown, uncontemplated, adventure before me.

I have more faith in the creation story than in the fact that I actually got
the courage to do this! Maybe because I wasn't responsible for the former.

Everyone chickened out. Couldn't make it. It's just me, like I wanted it!

Found the other ear ring. Got the check book and the camera.

Remember when I was standing in Lake Forest Illinois at concordia looking
out the window wondering what I was doing there? Same thing!

I must be ok, I'm proofing my work.

The time is now 6:00 pm. One hour and counting.

Jeff the pilot said my dialog was intriguing. What the hell does that mean!

Sitting in the rocker, it's hot and humid. There are a few children outside
and a car and the hot, heavy air and the breeze, the blinds being rattled
about by the wind. Feel like I'm having tea wit god.. Maybe I should!

Where are you? We're late. O, we're not late!

I haven't anticipated anything this much since I don't know when. The last
thing that made me this antsy was my impending wedding. That made me sick.
This just makes me happy!

So what does that mean, anyway? Intriguing dialog!

I know. Maybe I felt like this at my recital in 1994. But I was dressed
more formally then.

Saturday supposed to go to Costa Mesa. Maybe I'll need it. I'm glad kids
were here today. Kept me wonderfully distracted. Pancake breakfast, going
to get the paycheck, which didn't materialize, and then, well, then here we
are!

He's here.

Then, it was upon me, the trip to the airport, the gate, pushing in the gate
code which the instructor had given me. Walking through the gate, seeing the
little planes, these are little baby planes! No, there's a King Air sitting
here, imperious in its splendor!

Entering the office, the cold air-conditioned office, sitting, a man at his
computer, looking frantically for the instructor. Where the heck is the
instructor? Oh, there he is, in the Mooney. that's my baby, no my plane!
A girl walking through in sandals and shorts.
"You fly planes?" I asked
"I'm afraid of flying!" she says.

A pilot who had met us out with all the planes working on meter hours.
What kind of plane do you have?"
"Cessna 172."
"What is your rating?"
A bunch of letters. Maybe he thought he would stump me. Who is this blind
girl sitting in **my** airport anyway! No, he was very nice. He was a CFI,
but not mine.

"What made you interested in taking a flight?" asks some innocent person at
the computer.
"Um, a plane that crashed through a fence four blocks from my house three
months ago," the standard reply. "I've always kind of been interested, but I
just used this as an excuse."
"What happened?"
"Part numb bla bla bla, some Lycoming oil plate adapter failure."
"What?"
Everyone looks confused. Is it the fact that a camera toting tourist with a
purse and sandals and a white cane is talking about Lycoming? Or what,
anyway? who cares!

Then, the plane lands, the instructor gets out with the student, he comes
in, tall and quiet and confident.

I know what I'm about here, his whole demeanor says!

Nice guy, though. "I don't like pilots with egos," he says after the flight
but, oh, yeah, we haven't gotten to that yet! Fill out the paperwork, then
we walk out to the plane, this little thing that you swear could be a
child's model if it wasn't so intricate in its design, screws and rivets,
and thin metal sheets and moving wing parts, and little nuts and struts, and
grease, and all sitting there, gleaming, just waiting! Walking under the
wings, where is the leading edge? Here? Oh, this is the part that hit the
fence.
"Hey," says the pilot, instructor, whose hands are literally holding my life
for the next hour or so.
"not you," I say.
Then we're feeling for nicks in the props, "don't stand under there",
draining fuel samples, checking for this and that! Oh, it was absolute
unadulterated pleasure!
"Your hand is dirty," says the pilot.
"I've raised four kids. I can handle it!"
Ize used to the spit and polish routine, baby!

Then the climbing in part. Carefully over struts and the step into the very
small space for feet, well, this one with pedals and the yoke and oh,
goodness, so this is what it's all about! the pilot coming into his side,
taking the controls, comfy, cozy, close, his shirt sleeve on my arm, no room
for movement. You just better like it in here! And you better like your
pilot, no arguments, you lose! And this is a bigger Cessna! Hmm. Ok. the
headset, the tour of the instruments, where's that trim wheel again? ah,
here it is, ten miles away from me, tucked somewhere untouchable except by
pilot's hands, all in twelve directions at once! Headsets and code words,
and instructions. do this for me, do that for me, put your hand here, do
this. Me? So I did, and that was it! We were up and running. No, I
should say, flying!

What did it matter to me that I couldn't see out the window. I did not
care! Sitting there, curled up, comfy cozy, smiling, listening, taking it
all in, the throbbing vibrating sheer delight of so much machinery and
competent skill! I didn't talk much to the pilot because of cutting in and
out of the headset which looked like a 1970s version of a stereo headset.
"on glide path, on course. Heading 220 Four miles from touch down!"

"This is going to be a squeaker," says the pilot.
Was it over? So soon? When can we do this again?

Out of the plane, pictures, inside, writing the check, the instructor
drawing lazy eights on my receipt. I figured it out, sort of!
"It's a commercial maneuver," he explains.
"I know."

"He talks about co-sign," I said to the instructor about a pilot's work I'm
reading.

"Oh, no<'he says, like, oh, dear God, not that! "flying is fun, don't make it
so boring," is his response.
"Boring? it's not boring. By no means! Notice, I didn't say I got it,I
said it wasn't boring!"

"I'll call you," I say to the 25-something instructor. that's my line. so
you think I'm waiting till the semester ends? AHA, think again!

He said the King air was a million and a half ten years ago with the smelly
jet/prop engine, "I'll fly you anywhere you want to go,' he says when I say,
"ay, we'll take it!"

Please! So, you know I'm not waiting till christmas! But wait, that was
only a little C172 trainer! Oh, goodness!

And you know if I have to come home and write about it, the experience was good!
 

 

 

Copyright © 2002 Shelley J Alongi
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"