"Dudes, check this out!" he exclaimed to his comrades, gazing into the cockpit. You'd think he was examining an F-16, rather than a single-engine Cessna.
"I can't believe we're doing this!" said Conor, enthusiastically cranking my hand. He watched with rapt attention as I preflighted, absent-mindedly waved goodbye to his friends, and then peppered me with questions as I picked up our clearance.
Conor had been bugging me to take him flying ever since I had flown his brothers to summer music camp several years before. So when I learned that he was coming home for the weekend, I'd e-mailed an offer. "Get yourself a ride to the Tucson airport, and I'll pick you up in the airplane Friday afternoon."
If ever I'd doubted the young man's interest in flying, it was dispelled today. Conor, one of my oldest son's more colorful friends, was notorious for being chronically late, yet here he was waiting when I arrived. This was the first we knew of him ever being early to anything.
"Wow!" he exclaimed as our nosewheel rotated skyward. "This is awesome!" burst forth as the main wheels broke free. The controller assigned us the usual clearance to "overfly 'A' Mountain," which commands Tucson's skyline with the University of Arizona's initial, before continuing our climb as we turned toward Phoenix.
Upon recovering from the amazement of takeoff, Conor was next astonished by new perspectives of the familiar city below. "There's campus!" he said, gesturing out the window. "And there's where we camp on weekends," he said, pointing out the foothills of Mount Lemmon.
Do you remember your first airplane flight? Unless flying was part of your life from a very young age, I'll bet you still savor every detail of that first initiation to the skies, whether it happened 30 years ago or just this morning. A century of powered flight has barely scratched the evolutionary surface of humankind's urge to fly, so despite the advancement of aircraft, first flights today are just as exciting as those of our ancestors in the 1920s and 1930s.
Perhaps most incredible to ponder is the power we have as pilots in conferring those special flights. In the space of an hour, I gave Conor an experience he won't forget in a lifetime. What was for me an otherwise routine flight will forever be branded in his mind as "the first time."
To think that you and I have the power to deliver so much joy locked up in our heads and hands and a little scrap of paper in our wallets! How many souls will thrill to that once-in-a-lifetime gift during our tenures as aviators?
I remember another young college student who was contemplating dropping out of school when I took him flying for the first time. That flight changed his life forever. Now he's an airline pilot. Then there was the young graduate student who bicycled to the airport for her first flight with me. She ultimately became a member of the championship U.S. Aerobatic Team.
Of the other first flights I've be-stowed, many recipients went on to become pilots. Others did not, but each grasped a few moments of never-to-be-forgotten enchantment, all while flying with...me!
The fact is, that beyond the joy of flying ourselves, nothing is more rewarding than granting our precious gift to others. In fact for many pilots, especially those who've been flying for a long time, the joy of sharing ultimately surpasses the fundamental pleasure of handling the controls.
For proof we need look no further than that very special flight each of us makes the first nice day after earning a private pilot certificate. Always when congratulating a new pilot, I ask, "What lucky person gets the first flight under your command?" Sneaky, I suppose, but at that moment I'm made privy to the identities of the most special people in that pilot's life.
How does one best introduce flying to others? The fact is that aggressively enthusiastic passengers like Conor are relatively rare. More often, the best way to interest friends and family in flying is to use it as a vehicle to accomplish something else they like to do - golfing, fishing, visiting a special museum exhibit, or a trip to the beach.
The conversation goes something like this: "Hi, Susie, how would you and Al like to go skiing on Saturday?"
"Skiing?" says Suzie, "I never turn that down! But where can we ski for just one day? The nearest slopes are over four hours away."
"Four hours by car," you reply, "but only an hour and a half by airplane. We'll fly up there in the morning, grab a shuttle to the slopes, ski all day, and take off around five. What do you say?"
Suzie and her boyfriend may or may not be enthusiastic about a local sightseeing flight, but now you're offering something that they already love to do, and flying makes it possible.
Will they enjoy the flight itself? Almost certainly they will. In my experience, where flying is the passage to adventure, rather than the object of it, virtually everyone loves the experience and is interested in going again. Dining can be the objective, or hiking, or even shopping, but always the most rewarding flights occur when the airplane allows us to do something of specific interest to our passengers that's otherwise difficult to accomplish, given the time available.
A good example was the time friends from Connecticut came to visit us in Phoenix. Fran and Shirley had always dreamed of visiting the Grand Canyon, but since they were only staying a day and two nights, they "knew it was impossible." No way! We flew to Grand Canyon Airport, rode the Park Service bus to the South Rim, hiked partway down and back up, and were home in time for a night on the town. For them it was a dream fulfilled, and an airplane made it possible.
On another occasion we were the visitors. We rented an airplane near Boston and flew with our hosts for a day trip to Nantucket Island for lunch, sightseeing, and a visit to the famous whaling museum. Need I mention the beauty of overflying Cape Cod on a crystal-clear day?
There've been sojourns to new airports for hiking and picnics, museums and archeological sites, urban architecture tours, and even a narrow-gauge steam train ride over the Continental Divide. But always the trick is to take passengers on an enjoyable mission - to a destination of interest to everyone.
How would your friends or family like a weekend trip to Mackinac Island? Or Key West? Or Catalina Island? How about a night of fun in New Orleans? Wherever you live, you're in range of flights to adventure. Only once you are on your way, and often not until you've returned home, will your friends appreciate that not only did flying make the special day possible, but that it may have been the highlight of the trip.
Activities of all kinds offer other opportunities to share flying. Our friends Jerry and Rosemarie Dann use their Piper Cherokee to pursue their hobby of country-western dancing. They've introduced many friends to the skies by inviting them to travel to dance events.
Business travel offers similar opportunities. My pilot friend and family dentist, Bruce Lachot, frequently invites associates to fly along to meetings and seminars. You can bet that more than teeth get discussed on the flight home.
With all this talk about sharing the fun of flying, there's another good reason to fill empty seats-saving money! For pilots on a budget, and for their passengers too, expense-sharing can be the ticket for making dream trips come true. (Check the regulations for details.)
What? Ask friends to share the cost? Absolutely! Abandon the "if-it's-fun-I-can't-accept-money" guilt trip, and when inviting Suzie and Al to go skiing, ask 'em right up front to pitch in. They'll be glad to help. Where else can they get such adventure for so small an investment? In any case, they'll feel indebted to you for donating your phenomenal piloting skills to enhance their weekend.
"Can you believe it?" they'll ask friends at the office on Monday morning. "Joe and Judy flew us to Boyne Mountain for skiing on Saturday. It only cost $100 per couple, plus the lift tickets, and we didn't even have to spring for a hotel room!" Then they'll brag about what a great pilot you are and how incredible it was to fly along Lake Michigan's shore. Make the destination good, and you'll find no shortage of friends to go along and share expenses.
Which brings me to my final point about the gift of flight. There are many practical reasons to fly, but for most of us, practicality is not the main reason we do it. Let's face it; piloting your own airplane is a blast. The views, the thrill of making a good landing, the reward of navigating efficiently to your destination - those are the real reasons we fly, and we should never be ashamed to admit it.
So instead of trying to justify to your passengers how practical it is, invite them along for a flight to a great destination that has interest and enjoyment for all. Let your special passengers try the controls, if they're interested, while cruising to your destination. Then, when you see that telltale smile curling on their lips, pat 'em on the back and say, "What do you think of flying? Keep in mind that we're doing this not for fun, but simply because it's such a practical form of transportation." I challenge either of you to keep a straight face.
Flying home from Tucson, my young student friend talked briefly of how school was going, his classes, and the girl he'd met. But each time he came back to what was outside the window - sweeping views of mountains and deserts unlike any he'd seen before.
Conor was at the controls as we approached Phoenix, watching copper skies touch ribbons of city lights below between hulking shadows of dark mountains. His eyes were as big as silver dollars.
"Did I ever tell you about my fascination with sunset, Mr. Brown?" he asked, reverently. "Ever since I was a little kid, sunset has been my special time of day. I often find some special place to watch it go down."
Runway lights punctuated blackness when we touched down, and Conor loaded his bags into my car. Normally ebullient, he was meditative on the drive home...about life, the girl he'd met, and flying.
"Mr. Brown," he said dead seriously when I dropped him off, "this is like the most awesome experience of my entire life, and I can't thank you enough for giving me this opportunity." He paused for a moment while the trademark smile recaptured his face.
"And sunset! I have never before witnessed any more physically beautiful phenomenon than an Arizona mountain sunset as seen from the cockpit of an airplane." I helped him carry his bags to the door, shook his hand, and turned to walk away.
"Mr. Brown!"
"Yes, Conor?"
"When can we go again?"
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