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| On a clear day, the mountains around San Diego are a beautiful sight. |
I'm sometimes asked why I am learning to fly, and I find that to be a strange question. Why does one learn to bake? Why does one learn to sing or dance? It really is as simple as "because they want to".
I rarely looked up.
Back in February 2007, I stepped foot onto my first airplane. It was a Delta flight to Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, where I'd get on another flight to Detroit Metropolitan, for a weekend with the woman who I'm now happily married to. I had a window seat right behind the wing, and when that bird started screaming down the runway, then pitched up into the sky, something just switched in my head.
"That was the coolest thing ever, and I want to be able to do it."
I flew to DTW every other weekend that summer, with layovers spread about the country. It amazed me how efficiently we could travel cross country, how fast we could go, how amazing the view from FL360 was.
Being up there was something pretty special and life changing. Some people may experience this at a very young age and take it for granted, but for me it was one of those rare moments of true childlike discovery.
I'm not going to work for a major or regional airline. I may never own a plane. So why am I getting my pilot's license? Because it's the most amazing, fun, complicated, peaceful, stressful experience on 3 wheels. I just want to.
