Amy Laboda has been flying airplanes since she was 15 years old. She's taught flight students from East Coast to West, and currently serves as a National FAA FAAST Team member, providing Aviation Safety Seminars for FAA certified pilots in the U.S. and abroad. She was the Editor in Chief of Aviation for Women magazine for nearly 13 years before returning to her freelance writing and multimedia career.
When my husband and I first moved cross-country to northern New Jersey, we were a pair of aviators lost. The urban landscape seemed, at first, devoid of the small, local airports we relied on as pilots who rented aircraft to get our flying fix. We knew they had to be there, but nothing was obvious.
The flight from the college town of Bellingham, Washington, on the mainland to Eastsound, Orcas Island, is so short that as the pilot you will hardly have time for sightseeing. So, if the weather is fine, pull the throttle back once you hit altitude and take a couple scenic laps around this stunning horseshoe-shaped island. Mount Constitution frames Cascade Bay to the east, while slightly lower Turtleback Mountain spills west into Deer Harbor.
We may share a language (English) and a lot of culture, but from an aviation point of view, the United States and Canada have different rules and regulations regarding private flying within their borders.
This planet may be mostly covered with water, but there are plenty of broad stretches of intensely arid landmasses scattered around the world, too. How do I know? I’ve flown over many of them.
There is nothing better in the world when traveling than getting a bird’s-eye view of a destination. Many times I’ll just bring my own airplane and fly to the destination. But what if the water’s too wide for my airplane to comfortably make the crossing? There are definitely destinations where I’m simply not up to the task of that kind of cross-country. Even if I have to arrive commercially in a “silver tube,” I rarely if ever turn down a chance to go flying in a general aviation aircraft when I’m on vacation.
This planet may be mostly covered with water, but I know that there are plenty of broad stretches of intensely arid landmasses scattered around the world, too. How do I know? I’ve flown over many of them.
Your world is but a rush of wind over a smooth bubble canopy. Your vision is panoramic and immersive; more sky than you’ve ever imagined. Look back over each shoulder and you can see a pair of long, slender wings flexing in the air currents as they carry you higher. You’re flying a sailplane.
Florida is dubbed the Sunshine State, and for the better part of the year, it’s also a pilot’s dream. Most days are perfect for a quick hop to get a bite at an airport near you.
Sometimes it is the flying itself that incites romance. Other times the trip is all about the destination. When it comes to Valentine’s Day, the destination must live up to the thrill of the flight. Here are a few of my favorite winter haunts for romance in the United States.
You know you are there when you see the ocean turn blue: I mean really, really blue—the kind of infinite cerulean that you are sure is retouched in photos. It’s not. Even on a cloudy day it lets you know you are crossing the Gulf Stream, a river of deep warm water that slices north to south across the Atlantic Ocean somewhere just east of Florida.