Flight
The stutter from the seven cylinder radial engine is heard in the air. The engine spits out some smoke and begins to put in the way that all radials do. The Boeing Stearman begins to come to life with that great sound and strong smell. The sun glistens on the blue and yellow paint that covers the wings, fuselage, and empennage. It is a beautiful day to go flying. As we prepare for the flight, the instructor and I put on our parachutes and headsets. We then climb into the open cabin biplane that has trained an entire generation of military pilots, renowned for its handling and stability. The thought flashes through my mind that this same model of plane is what my grandfather learned to fly in. Once I have walked up the lower wing and climbed into my seat, I realize how spartan the cockpit is, with six instruments and what seems like a baseball bat as the stick. This is flying at its simplest and best form. We then taxi to the end of the runway on the grass, and get set for takeoff. We begin to roll, going down the runway gaining speed as the tail wheel comes up on the taildragger and we turn slightly for the dogleg in the runway. We have come completely taken off and now gain airspeed and altitude. The instructor turns the plane around quickly we approach back to the runway and he yanks the stick back as we break the runway threshold and the plane noses hard up and then levels off. I had begun acrobatics and the feeling was incredible.
No comments:
Post a Comment