I have control?

  I received a free introductory flying lesson as a gift. In the past I have driven tractors, forklifts and boats. I've never operated anything that went into the air. How hard could it be? Besides it sounds like fun. I couldn't pass up this opportunity.

  The place we are going is on the far side of a major airport. We travel down a long service road that is situated between two tall barbed wire fences. I have the feeling that we are not supposed to be here. I know that at any moment airport security accompanied by fighter jets will arrive and we will be detained under the suspicion of belonging to an international terrorist group. I see a building up ahead. A few small planes sit in a field behind it. That must be the place. We are safe now.

  We walk inside this little building where we are greeted by a very friendly Welsh man. He sits us down at a desk in a tiny office and after the introductions are complete, he proceeds to go over the basics of flying. Some of the information I retained. Much of it went over my head. After a half an hour or so we are ready to go in the air. He is ready. I'm not sure if I am. My eighteen year old son is with me. The Welsh man invites him to be a passenger, to my surprise my son accepts.

  The plane we will be flying is called a Cessna. From what I understood it is one of the smallest private planes made. As my son and I squeeze into this tiny cockpit, my Welsh instructor opens up a folder and begins to go through a checklist. He seems to know what he is doing. That eases my fears slightly. Time to start the engine. Only problem is that it doesn't start. He mumbles something about using a different plane. Then after four attempts the engine turns over. He seems satisfied that it's safe. For some reason my hand is shaking.

  After the engine warms up, we taxi toward the runway and take our place in line between two 747's. It was intimidating. A Cessna could almost fit inside the nose of one of these monsters. I think to myself, "this may not have been a good idea." But, it's too late to change my mind. If I heard the radio correctly we have received authorization for take off.

  Our little plane is dwarfed by the runway. It's like driving a go-cart down the expressway. The engine whines louder and louder. The more we pick up speed the more the plane bounces and sways. When it feels like this contraption can't take anymore we are reluctantly lifted into the air.

  If you have ever flown in an airplane you know that there can be turbulence during take off, landing and occasionally during flight. This is nothing like that. We were on a rollercoaster ride. We dropped, were lifted, pushed from side to side and at times combinations of all that I just mentioned. It never stopped. I would look back at my son from time to time. His face was turning from white to green. I wasn't faring well myself.

  We fly out to a designated area away from the general population. Now it's my turn to fly. My Welsh instructor talks me through the procedures to pass control of the airplane from pilot to co-pilot. As most of you know there are two steering wheels in a plane. The technical name is a "yoke". The pilot has one, the co-pilot has the other. It's important that someone is flying the plane or has "control". A basic procedure, the pilot says "I am passing over control". The co pilot responds by saying "I have control". This procedure is reversed when passing control back to the pilot. After my instructor is satisfied that I understand, he passes full control over to me. I am now officially flying a plane.

  My instructor shows me a series of basic maneuvers. I was nervous in the beginning. Now I'm starting to acquire some confidence. I finally start to relax when my Welsh friend asks a question. "What do you do if the engine packs up?" Before I could ask what "packs up" means, he turns off the engine. I have control of this tin box, the engine has stopped running and I don't know how to turn it back on. I am somewhat concerned. He explains how it can glide to the ground. He may have told me a few other things. I don't remember. I was patiently waiting for him to turn the engine back on. He did eventually start the motor.

  A few more maneuvers and our lesson is over. I hand control back over to my instructor and we head back towards the airport. He talks back and forth to the flight tower and we have permission to land. As we line up with the runway, the plane is all over the place. I'm glad I'm not landing. We fly lower and lower. The plane doesn't seem to be steady. The wind is gusting and pushing us everywhere. I assume this is normal. I also assume that the sick feeling I am having is normal. We are almost sideways when we touch down. Once the first wheel hit the ground we straightened out and all was well. I was more than relieved. As we taxi back to the place we started the Welch instructor says, "that was a tough landing. We were at the maximum safe wind speed allowed to land. Good thing we got back when we did".

  We were then offered a beginner's course for a discounted price. That sounded good, but I think I'll stick to driving a car.