This month’s issue is all about finding joy in flying. We’ve compiled a short checklist of missions to help you get some mojo, pondered what it means to reacquaint yourself with flying, and shared one pilot’s story of combining life’s larger joys with flying (warning: contains cute dog pictures). Whether the joy is people, places, or airplanes, we try to give you a reason to celebrate learning to fly.
I love the people, savor the places, and am wowed by the airplanes. But I wasn’t always so obsessed with things that go zoom. Here’s the scene: I’m maybe 8 years old, surrounded by family members waiting for their turn in a T–6 Texan as it rolls and loops high above us.
My grandfather flew a T–6 and had offered rides to everyone who wanted one during a family reunion. It was a rare treat to turn gas into smiles, but not for me. I chickened out. The T–6 was simply too much of a monster for mini me. Saying I’ve long regretted the decision is probably too strong. It seemed a perfectly reasonable choice at the time, but I’ve since resolved to make good on the offer, if I were ever to get the chance again.
In another world, this would be a stretch goal. How many times does a Subaru Outback owner like me get a chance to drive a supercar? The gap between weekend warrior and warbird seems insurmountable. But don’t forget this is a tight community. In the world of aviation, things are different, and I knew a ride was completely within reach. Some pilots are incredibly generous with their airplanes, sharing their love of the machine through rides and trips. Be patient, have respect for the person and the airplane, and chances are you’ll be able to fulfill almost any aviation dream.
I finally got to fulfull one of my own this summer when AOPA President Mark Baker brought his T–6 to AOPA headquarters. I got on the schedule and flew with Editor at Large Dave Hirschman as my guide.
It didn’t disappoint. I immediately understood why my grandfather loved the airplane. The radial engine, the slide-back canopy, and the honest handling make it a joy to fly. Not to mention the connection to history. You can’t help but marvel at the young men and women who—with only a few hours in their logbooks—walked up to the airplane for the first time. It’s a beast.
Coming over the top of a barrel roll in a 70-year-old airplane with a connection to your personal history and one that’s much larger—that’s my happy place.
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