Flying Adventures

One thing you all should probably know about me is that I can't turn down the offer for adventure. I typically don't even think twice about it until I am standing on the edge of the thing. I have found myself with my skis hanging over the edge of what seems to be a 90 degree drop off on a black diamond ski slope in Big Sky Montana, peering over a rock ledge on a Georgia lake poised to take the plunge to the water 30 feet below, hiking out over volcanic wastelands in Hawaii just before dark, fishing for piranhas in a South American Jungle, climbing through the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu high in the Andes Mountains and paragliding off a cliff on the coast of Peru to name a few examples. I was once on a diving boat in the Bahamas when we made it to a secret "last stop" that happened to be on the edge of a deep, dark underwater abyss. Our hosts then proceeded to lower a crate full of fish parts down into the sea to lure in the sharks, hundreds of them. And then you know what they did... they told us to hop on in. And what do you think I did? I was in the water before I even knew what I was doing, watching the beasts come up out of the darkness and circle below, some of them close enough to touch with my foot (if I so pleased). All of these experiences took place without a second thought (some of them without a first). This oftentimes reckless abandonment has been both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying at times. But has always made for an experience that takes my breath away.

The reaction I get from people more times than not when I tell them I went flying in a two-seater Tecnam plane twice in the past two weeks is, "wow, you are brave." My sister has even proceeded to publicly scold me (via facebook). But I just. can't. help it. I really don't see flying in a small aircraft as all that risky anyways. It doesn't even rank close to the dangers of swimming with sharks or climbing through the ruins of Machu Picchu. But I suppose there is a bit of danger involved.

We had been talking about flying for months but the "risk factor" couldn't push its way around the "adventure/breathtaking/photo-op factor" in my mind. The only time I had even a slight twinge of panic was when I was actually in the plane for the first time, we were making our way to the runway and I was looking at the space (or lack of space) around me thinking that if I get sick this is not going to be pretty. And then we lifted off and soared over Sebring where everything looked smaller from the air (everything but Alan Jays house, which actually defied all principles and looked much, much larger). And then the next week we took an excursion all the way to the east coast, where we spotted alligators in Lake Istokpoga just after sunrise, sea turtles off the coast of Sebastian in the most beautiful aqua water, and country upon glorious country in between. The patterns, the colors, the vantage point... it was a photographer's dream. Something I never would have experienced with my feet planted "safely" on the ground.















Thanks, Bobby! And good luck in all your flight school endeavors.