First Flight
By Kim G. Sweet, (kgsweet@ipa.net)

The heavy door slid back. The rusty wheels creaked and squealed has the summer sun filtered threw the dust exposing what one man knows has obsession. He smiles at the sight of the dusty airplane. A 1953 Piper Pacer not a particularly unusual airplane but the flaming orange and black paint on the old tail dragger makes most people take notice. The man takes in the sight has he hears the sound of a single engine overhead. With what has become reflex he looks skyward to see the tan and browns of a tricycle Cessna above. He steps into the hanger to begin a ritual that every flyer knows by heart. With steady hand and careful eye Looking first to the nose the prop is checked and so begins the preflight. Has he works his way around the airplane his mind drifts back the day he found the wore out old plane in the backyard of a fellow flyers house. The dirty red and white of the freshly removed fabric and the green of the zinc paint caught the eye and the rest seem to be history. The three years of toil and challenge have all been for this day. Today the old lady will once again feel the freedom of wind and sky. Pull the wheel chalks and out the door she rolls with a push on the tail the plane comes around into the oncoming wind. He folds himself into the somewhat small cockpit and begins the check list although memorized he still runs his finger across each entry and mentally checks each off. Brakes set and checked clock wound and set altimeter set to field elevation radios off throttle full back prime has needed (4 full strokes ) mixture full rich mags on both master on And with a loud call of clear prop the window shuts and engine jumps willingly to life. Once again his heart is warmed by that distinct sound that only a airplane makes. He remembers back to the first time he herd that sound . Six years back when the first bumpy winter lesson took place and he found something that both mind and sole could agree upon. Something worth the time, the risk, the addiction. The fulfillment of a childhood dream. Before that day he had made excuses why dreams of flight would never come true for him. He would say I can't afford this or my parents wouldn't understand, or what would my girlfriend say. No that day he found his escape his own personal freedom. This day is one more extension of the first. He had felt this way many time in an old airplane. When he soloed , when he flew his fifty year old Cessna 140 the first time, when he made his first grass landing and when he first saw the green grass on top and blue sky below. These were all challenges and all first today would be no different. The brakes released ,the throttle advances and the wheels begin to roll. Past the hanger and toward the runway he begins to smile. Step on one brake and around the plane turns he checks the sky for traffic and taxi down the runway. Spin around into the wind and down the runway. Brakes locked throttle 1800 rpm mags check. Good Throttle in 10 kts. 20 kts. 30 kts. Quick on the feet don't let it get sideways 45 kts. Back on the yoke . The wheels leave the ground in a reluctant hop then nothing but air. His smile increases with his speed and altitude. At 100 feet all the problems and misfortunes of life on the ground are left behind for blue sky and concentration on the tasks at hand.

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