Why We Fly

A sunset can be bery beautiful, especially from the air

So, why do we fly? Some form of attraction makes us seek flight, but it takes more than that to sustain the chase. If you're lucky, before the journey has progressed far you meet someone who shows you that flying is all you ever thought it could be, and more. Someone who, over the next few decades, leads you into nooks and crannies of the world of flight that you'd never think you'd experience on your own; someone who helps you acquire the skills to make sharing aviation with others your life's work after a flawed, false start in some tedious, groundbound pursuit.

If that sounds like the definition of a mentor, let it stand. If this sounds suspiciously like a personal tale, right again. Like many other pilots in central Maine, I was lucky enough to meet Ray Gibouleau of Old Town, Maine, almost 20 years ago when he was in the prime of his piloting career and my aviation work life was just getting started. So on February 15, 2007, I was proud to stand among the invited guests at a hangar ceremony at which a representative of the Portland, Maine, Flight Standards District Office presented Gibouleau with the FAA's Master Pilot Award, honoring his 50 uninterrupted years in the sky.

On that day, Gibouleau, 68, became just the eleventh Maine pilot to receive the award. Over the years you might have seen him step out of every imaginable form of aircraft, from a Stearman biplane to a DC-3 on floats to a Sabreliner jet. Gibouleau's flying has seen phases as a flight instructor, charter pilot, designated pilot examiner, regional airline captain and director of training, director of operations for the local fixed-base operator, and aircraft owner. As of this year, he lists himself as a photo pilot for the local aerial mapping company, flying twin-engine Piper aircraft, and an active flight instructor. Talk about an understatement.

If you had moved to this area 20 years ago and started meeting folks on the local aviation scene, Gibouleau is doubtless one of the first people you'd come across. If you'd moved here 20 days ago, that would still be the case. If you were struggling to pull an aircraft over to the fuel pumps before a flight, he'd be the first one to sprint out onto the ramp to help you. If you were having difficulties completing a training program, he'd do some networking for you, or even volunteer to take you for some aerial therapy. Fly with him and your limits crumble as you break through to new realms of accomplishment and confidence that send your spirits soaring.

Remember, we're talking about someone who has soloed more than 100 student pilots and guided countless others to advanced certificates and ratings. Flipping back through the many entries in his instructor's notes, he finds an instrument rating checkride recommendation he issued in September 1988. It was mine; I didn't let him down. Gibouleau walks me to my car at the end of a recent visit in the sunny living room of his home along the Penobscot River. (I spent much of the visit ducking the battery-powered, palm-sized helicopter he was flying around the room with a joystick while we chatted and reminisced.) "Wait a minute," he says with a grin. "You didn't ask me why we fly. " Why do we?

"It's the beauty," he answers. "I'm in the sunset of a career, and as you know, a sunset can be very beautiful. Especially from the air."

Dan Namowitz is an aviation writer and flight instructor. A pilot since 1985 and an instructor since 1990, he resides in Maine.