I have always loved flying. Things like weather delays or turbulence don’t sully the magic of the experience for me. The sheer variety of flying machines captivated me at age 6, usurping my attention and devotion from my first love, cars. I would go on to devote nearly all of my free time between ages 6 and 18 to absorbing all the knowledge I could muster about airplanes, from how they are designed and constructed, acquired/sold, operated, maintained, and dismantled for profit. Each stage has its own depths and intricacies. In aviation exists the harmonious synergy of science, technology, marketing, finance, novelty, beauty, and a little bit of luck. I learned how to fly airplanes in computer simulators, but only once had I been at the controls in real life. An odd happenstance had me accrue my first flying hour in a pristinely restored and modernized Douglas DC-3 when I was 15 years old. The amazing experience of controlling this rather large prop plane at low altitude over the California Coast at night, while my dad and the owner of the plane were talking in the cabin, was surreal. I’ve longed for that kind of experience again. As much as I love talking about, building, and even racing cars, I am far more at home in aviation. I am meant to fly.

It was an unused GroupOn certificate several years later that got me back in the air.

We arrived at Van Nuys airport at 1pm on a hot Saturday in May. As a former resident of “The Valley,” I anticipated the 20-degree temperature spike as we traversed the Sepulveda Pass, and the wave of heat rushed over us as we crossed the parking lot and entered the offices of U.S. Aviators Flying School was not surprising. With our weeks entirely relegated to set schedules, my girlfriend and I like to leave our weekends open to spontaneity. I didn’t know anything about that Saturday’s schedule. Gabby had arranged the whole afternoon, and I only had to show up and have fun. Little did I know that she had briefed the staff of my ‘extensive knowledge and experience’ around airplanes. I was greeted by name and spoke to the pilot staff about airplanes for a good 5 minutes before I remembered I came for a lesson, and not to tell stories! My instructor introduced herself as Amelia (like Amelia Earhart), and briefed me on the structure of the lesson. We’d be doing ground school, I would perform basic maneuvers in a flight simulator they had setup, and then up we’d go out and do it in the real airplane.

Briefing

I have prior experience flying, and in-depth knowledge of many airplanes, so asking me ‘What are the 4 principals of flying’ is like asking a chef to make a bowl of cereal. I ‘flew’ through the questions and it was on to the simulator. My inner-child was elated and a little jealous at the sight of their ‘home setup’ flight simulator, which had 6 screens, surround sound speakers, a control yoke, a panel with toggle switches and engine controls, and rudder pedals on the floor. I grew up obsessed with flying, but if I had this at age 15 I would’ve never left the house. I flew a 15 minute simulated flight in a Cessna 172 from Burbank Airport to Van Nuys Airport with little to no issues, save getting used to the sensitive rudder pedals, and then it was time to fly for real.

Amelia led us out of the comfort of the air conditioned office and onto the steaming hot asphalt tarmac. The plane we’d be flying in was parked around the corner of a large hangar containing a few private jets, and past a slumbering Global Express waiting quietly for her next VIP assignment. We past about 12 single-engine props all parked in a row before reaching our noble steed. There, at the end of the flight line sat a tomato-red 1979 Cessna 172 ‘Sky Hawk, tail number N2774J, more affectionately as, “Juliet.”

Taxiing

Taxiing an airplane is a lot like driving an old car. They are slower to respond during turns because of their tricycle wheel arrangement. Turning our little Cessna required the pilot in command to use their feet to steer using rudder pedals. This took some getting used to, and Amelia allowed me to learn the airplane as she addressed a bigger problem, heat. “Juliet” had no air conditioning, and on this particular model, the windows were sealed shut, and unable to allow fresh airflow in or out of the cabin. She reached for the handle and flew open the right (starboard) side door to let the wind refresh the small plane’s cab. ‘How do you like our air conditioning?” she asked jokingly.

The radio was acting finicky that day, so It took a few moments before we made contact with Van Nuys Tower and received permission to lineup on the runway. There were a few other planes in traffic on the runway, and in an amazing surprise, the plane that landed right before we took the runway was aviation legend Clay Lacy’s classic Douglas DC-3! The very last plane I piloted, lands right before I am about to fly again. Coincidence? I think not.

Takeoff

As we lined up on runway 16R, Amelia obtained our takeoff clearance from tower and performed a few last minute checks before chirping into the radio “your airplane” and relaxing her grip on the yoke. “Your airplane” is what one pilot says to another when they are transferring flight control and assuming control of the radios, navigation, and emergency supervision. This meant I was in control of Juliet, for the takeoff! In my experience, I had never performed a takeoff or landing in real life, only in simulators. I happily pushed in the throttle and the Juliet’s little engine droned into takeoff power. Admittedly, the rudder pedals were very sensitive, and the first few seconds of our takeoff roll felt like we were in a getaway car. But once I pointed us down the centerline and held it there, everything was fine, and we were airborne after reaching 65 knots a quick 30 seconds later . To pull back on the controls and take us into the sky was a huge thrill. I have seen thousands of airplane wings rise into the sky, as a passenger, and as a plane spotter, but to be the one in control of the climb was an incredible rush. I can’t really describe it. For one, it was bumpier than I expected. The hot air and slight breeze made for an interesting and slightly jostling climb-out. Fear of small planes aside, I was happier than a pig in a pool of mud. With yours truly at the controls, Juliet clawed her way into the thick summer air as Van Nuys Airport disappeared beneath us.

We climbed at a slow and steady pace until leveling off at 2,000ft. Since we would remain in Van Nuys Airport’s airspace, we would not fly higher than that today. We continued to fly the path of the runway for about a minute until turning to fly parallel to the north bound traffic on the 101 freeway. For the short 30 minute flight, I performed a series of left and right turns turns while combating the steamy, heat-induced turbulence, while Amelia gave instruction and Gabby took pictures. I had never seen the valley from above. The view is very different from an airliner window than it is a small airplane. For one, we topped out at about 80mph, while most airliners, even at their slowest (landing) speed, are still doing 120mph+. We had time to take in the view and linger for a little. I wish I could’ve enjoyed the view of the land of a thousand swimming pools a little longer, but I had an airplane to fly.

Landing

After what seemed like an indefinite battle with turbulence, Amelia instructed me to start heading east towards VNY. I flew up until we were 2 miles from landing, when Amelia reclaimed control and brought us in for a perfect touchdown. The wheels on the little Cessna screeched as we settled back onto runway 16R and slowed from 65mph down to taxi speed and exited to the right. As soon as we were clear of the runway, that passenger-side door flew open to let some fresh air into the steaming cabin. We taxied back to our stand and I reluctantly got out of the left seat, and started taking pictures of Juliet for my memories. Airplanes never cease to amaze me. They all have their own character to them, and like cars, people tend to personify them. Whether big or small, the fact this well-seasoned amalgamation of metal, composite materials, plastic, glass, cloth, rubber, and liquid fuels, kept us, and many others safe as we explored the sky, is fascinating and worthy of all admiration and respect.

Debrief

As we said our goodbyes that day and headed back home, my mind raced faster than I drove, with the renewed possibility of becoming a professional pilot. I had long since dismissed the idea back when I was a senior in high school, a time when pilots were losing pensions, benefits, and experiencing pay cuts in large numbers. But that was 10 years ago. Times have changed. We’re in better economic times now than we were back then, and there’s actually a shortage of accredited pilots in the global community, meaning getting a job would be fairly easy after obtaining proper licensure, certification, type ratings, and the big one, hours. Flying, like many other skills, is discipline of much practice. The accruing of hours is how pilots earn enough seniority to be bumped up to flying bigger airplanes, or transitioning from second-in-command to captain. In fact, many airline pilot jobs have required hours in the thousands.

I am meant to be a pilot. Now, to discover the path to get there. I’ve dreamed of having and flying my own airplanes since I was little. Often, I’d drawn them on my homework with my initials as a logo in the tail, or with my initials in the tail number. I feel at home with airplanes, and the peace I feel while seemingly suspended in the sky is incomparable to anything I’ve experienced. I find my peace at 35,000ft.