And so it begins....

My dad is a pilot and so I grew up around small planes. I had my first airplane ride in the winter of 1965, when I was two years old. Over the years, I spent hundreds of hours in the air with him. A few years ago, he sold his last plane without telling me and when I found out, I cried and cried. A huge part of my life was over.

My dad owned that last plane with a partner, who has since built himself a lovely little RV7. In June, he took me for a ride in it.

As it happened, we had climbed into that little plane in front of the hangar of a flight school. After the ride, I went inside to inquire about how much flying lessons would cost. About a month later, my dad's former airplane partner gave me an aviation headset, which my dad delivered to me, along with a fresh pilot's logbook that my dad had never used. The message seemed pretty clear at that point: I had to learn to fly. After years of being my dad's passenger, it was finally dawning on me that I could be the pilot!

So, last Wednesday, I walked into that flight school for my first ground school class and today, I logged my first flight as a student pilot. It was an out-of-body experience! Terrifying! I mean, I have been in a Cessna for many, many flights but I never had to fly it! Sure, I had taken the controls here and there but it was never my responsibility to try to do it right! My instructor did everything but once we were up, I had to take the controls and fly it straight and level. It was hard and stressful! But, truth be told, it was also wonderful and awesome and fun and I know I was right where I want to be.

I have embarked on something amazing, something that is going to change my life. I know it.