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My father's plane
My Father’s Plane
Every time I get to experience the great hobby of flying, my father and I get very excited. The journey always begins with a nice early sunrise, when the wind is still cool and dense from the night. Once we arrive to the hangar, there you can see a beautiful piece of engineering, perfectly made to glide through the air, with a glow from the paint that reflects white and light blue, similar to that of the sky, ready to give you the experience of a lifetime. My father continues with protocol: preflight, checking the brakes, tires, fuel tanks, among other required test to make sure the aircraft is running like a perfect timepiece. Lastly, filing a flight plan and refueling the aircraft is the green light to the adventure of 9500 ft. above sea level. The feeling is incredible, after all that waiting looking at the sky thinking what we can do in all that space, makes you think how small we are, compared to mother nature. At last, ready to take off stepping into the aircraft driving along the taxiway into the runway. My father with no expression, both doing the sing of the cross, he injects the fuel into the engine making sure one last time the combustion is well-balanced. Hearing the engine revving, the wheels start turning, and launching us forward with extreme force. The change in acceleration gives us a constant push into the seats make us feel weak against the uncontrollable forces. I can see the overwhelming stress of my father and his steady hands pulling back the control wheel, which controls the elevator changing the aerodynamic force, pushing up the plane into the sky. We both love the adrenaline rush of the takeoff, going at 150 kilometers per hour. As we rise up into the sky, you can experience the strange feeling of being off the ground, and feeling how the wind moves the airplane slightly to the sides. At this point of steady flight, we start gazing through the windows enjoying the view. My father just sits calmly and thinking, while I just lay back looking at the cockpit and window. Sometimes we start a conversation, but with the engine’s noise, it is hard to enjoy a long conversation, so we usually keep them short. However, I always felt that my father enjoyed this time to remain in silence, so I respect his space, and go back to admiring the view.
