Is That A 737 In Your Pocket Or...

Have you ever had an experience that was so impressive, so mind-blowing, that you had the same feeling as if you were in love?  Where you just float home and don’t remember how you got there?  That’s how I felt after my very first night flight.  My only memory of driving home from the airport that night is the soulful song that was on the radio when I got in my car.  There was another time I felt that way leaving the airport - the day I had a 737 between my legs.

What did she say?

Is this the part where we find out why she wears red boots?

No.  Let me tell you about it…  It was the perfect day for flying.  Clear skies and light winds in exactly the right direction.  Beautiful days mean busy airports and this beautiful day was no exception.  The circuit was abuzz with aircraft of all kind: YAKS flying in formation, high wing, low wing, floats, small private jets, and big commercial carriers.  The Tower Gods were hustling.  We were stacked deep on approach.  There was no time for the slow and sensual perfect landing; it was all quick and dirty.

Dave and I had done six or seven touch-and-gos and I thought I was coming in for a full stop but on final, instead of clearing me to land, the Tower God directed: “India Mike Hotel, fly a normal circuit at 1000 feet.  Stay on runway heading, but slow it down.”

My student pilot mind kicked into overdrive: “Why would he want me to fly at 1000 feet straight over the runway?”  I looked at Dave and he knew exactly what was about to happen.  His eyes lit up and he said: “Oh, you're going to love this.”

Although I had seen it holding short, it was only when I heard the Tower God clear the West Jet 737 for take-off that I knew I was about to experience something I had never known before.  I braced myself knowing that it was on the roll directly under me.  I cannot describe the feeling of anticipation as that 737 took off right underneath me or my utter breathlessness as I watched the jet appear from under the nose of my little Cessna 152.  Right between my legs.  It was beautiful.  And I know beauty in interesting circumstances - I have children.

As our paths separated and I turned my cross-wind leg, I looked over to watch the 737 continue its elegant ascent against a backdrop of the deep blue ocean meeting the clear blue sky that was only briefly interrupted by lush green islands, and that warm heady feeling washed over me.  Somehow the sun shone brighter.  The air smoothed out as did the Tower God's velvet voice over the radio as he invited me to extend my downwind leg.

Someone landed the plane that day.  I am pretty sure it was me.