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One afternoon I sat, alone again, reading the local paper. My husband had gone on an interesting business trip.. I suddenly noticed a booklet from the Conestoga Evening Classes : "Introduction to Flight" was one of the courses. "Why not" .. I thought. My husband did not need to know. I told him I was taking another course in computer programming. From the moment I attended the first lesson time seemed to compact:

Now, eighteen months later, I stood, with maps, calculators, flight plan and my hired aeroplane from Guelph Airpark. A Cessna 150, beautifully maintained, smartly painted in red, white and blue, affectionately called Nice Kind Lady, from her call sign: NKL. My cross country solo had to be of a particular length, which took me from Guelph to London, then Hamilton, and back to Guelph. This was really flying solo. Everything that analogy could stand for and I knew why! It was first day at school, first time alone in a strange city, first baby, all rolled into one. A bit much for a forty-eight year old lady.

My "walkaround" was always a source of amusement to my instructor. "You're supposed to do 40 hours of groundschool, not 40 hour walkarounds!" he exclaimed in exasperation. He never could understand that I have always been followed around by a nuisance called Murphy! The smallest detail that I can check on (or miss) can cause the greatest trouble. For example:
* A piece of straw under the aeroplane turned out to indicate a large bird nest rammed into the back of the cowling where it could not be seen. It did not escape me - but while I went to complain about it, another hapless soul took off in the aeroplane! The nest caught fire and an emergency landing was made with smoke pouring from the cowling.
* On another occasion, one of the split-pins had taken leave from one of the the bolts attaching the nose-wheel. I caught that too.
* Once the fuel-service person had left the cap off one of the wing tanks. I noticed it, but the next person to be served did not and he took off with fuel streaming from his wing.
* The nose-wheel was often seen to be dripping with pinkish fluid, after a poor landing with the nose too low? Whatever .. it was unserviceable.
* In the spring and summer the horse-flies and bees really like to get in the cabin. There they rest until you announce take-off. Suddenly you are confronted with a couple of wasps (of the insect variety). Did Murphy let them into the cabin? Probably.
Even when everything has been inspected, there are annoying things which are not officially on the check-list. Have you ever taken off only to find the maps and headings are still folded up on the back seat? My instructor said: "maps and headings are on the check list". Eventually I wrote them on my own list.

When making a night-flight, one can so easily miss the landing-light check. That's an annoying one! .. Then, when you finally go solo at night, there's the instructor who departs the cabin and leaves the seat belt hanging out of the door. The sound of the buckle hitting the cabin in time with the engine is really hair-raising, as you climb to 500 ft.

Anyway ... as I was saying ...

After doing all the usual safety checks, I turned the aircraft into wind on the active runway and announced "Guelph Traffic, November, Kilo, Lima departing One Four, straight out for London". At once I was alone and drawing heavily on all the information that ninety hours of ground school and another ninety hours of practical could feed into my brain. I had become accustomed to the roar of the engine at full power, checking the correct speed and angle for take-off, (controlling an inexplicable exuberance and urge to sing the "Hallelujah Chorus" as I swarmed into the sky).

They say it is good to continue to learn as one becomes older .. to practice prolonged concentration, to exercise the brain. Being alone at four and a half thousand feet and approximately 100 mph certainly fills the bill.

I had to advise Kitchener/Waterloo Tower. that I would be passing over their area. Flying taught me a lot about myself. Not only could I manage the aeroplane, ("like balancing a ball on a stick", an airliner pilot had said scathingly of the Cessna), but even making announcements on the radio took a strange amount of skill: I.T.P.A.I.D. Identification, Type, Position, Altitude, Intention and Destination. I had practiced the different announcements required many times with a small recorder. I found them as thought provoking as making a full-length after-dinner speech. "Charlie Golf November Kilo Lima, Cessna 150, (Student Pilot Out of Guelph) Over Guelph Lake Dam at One Thousand Four Hundred Feet, will be passing overhead your field at Four Thousand, Five Hundred Feet, en-route for London". I clipped my voice as business-like as possible. A pleasant young woman's voice cleared me and asked me to report the other side of Kitchener. (I read in an aviation report that when one begins to speak on the radio one's eyes automatically focus to three feet in front. No wonder people have a problem speaking on cell 'phones! Actually it's surprising there are not many more accidents. Try it for yourself - It's an interesting reflex.)

Over Guelph Lake Dam, my course-setting point I had checked the time and set my course. After ten minutes I checked the course again and found I was ten degrees off to the right. ....I could scarcely believe I was doing all this calculating, using a circular calculator with one hand, flying with the other and with my feet, remembering to check the engine and radio frequencies, talking to the Tower. Who on earth was this person I had nurtured over the past eighteen months? Where was my fear? I had no time for it. I had practiced stalls and spins, slow flight for landing configuration. Engine failures and emergency procedures. ... The double correction would be required. twenty degrees more to the left for ten minutes, then hold it at ten for the rest of the flight. It worked beautifully.

Time to call the Tower Lady at Kitchener. Keep looking at the map and then the ground. What a beautiful afternoon. What a lovely view. No time to enjoy .. My mind seemed to race ahead of the little plane. I scarcely had time to breathe.

I listened to London Air Terminal Information Service to get the wind direction and speed and runway in use etc. Then it was time to turn to London Tower frequency. Oh heavens .. they were busy .. very busy. The wind was very strong and NKL was having a struggle paddling along. I could not go into their area without speaking to them. In the moments I thought about the problem I decided to change my heading and the wind blew me away. I was thinking about "heavy metal" which might be descending on its way into Toronto. Was that possible? Where was I? I felt panic rising.

In an instant my instructor's words. "Look at the map".. ." Look for outstanding features there first". I saw an interesting unusual star-like road crossing on the map and glancing over the wing saw it, and the rest of the terrain fell into place.

Finally, after numerous calls, London replied. I reeled out, in a voice octaves higher than usual - "NKL, student pilot, 4,500ft.circling near Stratford request clearance to London and land". The Tower Officer chuckled reassuringly - he must have known I had been blown away in a moment of indecision. "OK lady, get your wally aircraft over here" .. He replied.

After about twenty minutes hard paddling, NKL gave me a magnificent view of London Airport. It was vast. In the traffic pattern I turned on final and was preparing to land when the Controller said "Mooney on short final XXX cleared to land, you are No.1" .. I blurted: "This is CESSNA NKL on short final" "Oh is it really!", he replied. "Then you'll just have to overshoot and go all the way round again, won't you!" I applied full power, feeling somewhat humbled. Even with her nose held down, NKL soared back up into the sky like a joyous lark. I turned around the circuit again as directed. My landing was all my Instructor could have wished. On the taxi-way, there was the beautiful Mooney and her pilots, waving and laughing.

I went into the Flying Club to get my log-book signed, in a golden glow of success.

After a light lunch at London I listened to the recorded Air Terminal Information Service and made announcements to depart for Hamilton. Such was my elation with the flight so far .. that I forgot to check the time as I left London area. The result was that, very shortly, I saw a large airport in front of me and began talking to Hamilton. Having told them of my arrival .. I looked at the Canada Flight Supplement on the seat beside me and realized the plan for Hamilton bore no resemblance to the airport which I now approached! PANIC. "Hamilton Tower, I am looking at the Supplement and this airport does not look like you!" No longer very businesslike. "Well", said the friendly Control: "Do the buildings have yellow roofs?" "AFFIRMATIVE" "That's Brantford then. You had better climb and get yourself over here." .. After that it was easy until I reached Hamilton. "NKL cleared to the downwind" and I flew on and on and on. "NKL still on the downwind and I'm not allowed out over the water" .. I grumbled plaintively. "Oh, you still there? You'd better come over and land then".

Once again I checked my aircraft as I had been taught, turned onto final approach and, feeling very small on the vast Hamilton airfield, landed on a runway more suitable for a jet airliner. After the Tower gave me guidance to the taxiway, I had to go to the flying club to have my book officially signed. However, the ground frequency was very similar to the emergency frequency and in my excitement I had, of course, selected the wrong one. "NKL requesting taxiing clearance to the flying club", I announced. "You're on the Emergency Frequency!", said an irritated controller.

After having the book signed I went back to Nice Kind Lady and thought about how much fuel I must have used, with all the climbing and descending. The fuel was not visible and I could not reach it without a measuring stick. A pilot came out of the buildings and I asked him what he thought. He found a stick and thought I should have enough fuel to fly back to Guelph.

Every time I flew I learned a lesson. This one was - never miss an opportunity to use the washroom or to re-fuel!

I returned to Guelph and was relieved to apparently have sufficient fuel. However, as I was on short final and about to land .. another aircraft was on the runway and I had to overshoot. This really uses lots of gas! The second time I was on short final .. and there was another aircraft pulling out onto the runway again. I was really challenged to keep my hair from standing on end by this time. The third time I was lucky and landed safely. I dashed into the washroom as soon as possible. The service attendant told me I still had plenty of fuel (but I still think he was just being reassuring about it).

Since outfacing my fear I have flown about five hundred hours. Time seems telescoped when I think about it. The interesting people I have met. The places I have been. The experience has brought me to my own attention in such strange ways. My late departed husband said, when I eventually owned up to my flying lessons: "I just don't know you!" I could have replied: "Tell me about it!" I sometimes sit in my chair and, unable to concentrate on the mundane news or TV program, I find myself re-living some adventure. After a pleasant flight I feel as though I have a video inside my head which has recorded it all; from the amazing feeling of take-off .....to the gorgeous glow of the evening sunset when I land safely home.

What happened to that November? Was it so long ago already? The young inspector leaned across the desk suddenly and shook my hand. "Congratulations. You are now a Commercial Instrument Rated Pilot!" He said. By the way, if you have the opportunity to get an Instrument Rating .. Go for it! It is the most challenging and interesting part of flying, from the mental point of view. I totally loved every minute of it (and drove my poor instructor to distraction) thanks Danny you're the best!

"That's all very well" you may say .. "but what about travelling in airliners?" Well, if, when flying in an airliner, you happen to notice a middle-aged lady who has talked her way into sitting in the jump-seat behind the Captain again .. That will be me.

For once you have tasted flight you will
walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward;
for there you have been,
and there you long to return.
-Leonardo Da Vinci