I gripped the support tightly lest I fly off. Sitting on the bow, is an extraordinary experience. Riding the waves at some 30 miles an hour is almost like riding a roller coaster. I could feel the excitement in the pit of my stomach, as we rode out another huge wave. Whoa what a ride!
As I started to write this, I was struck by the enormity of what happened on September 11, 2001. It is more than a month now, yet those atrocious attacks remain fresh in my mind like yesterday. What happened there must never be allowed to happen again, not here nor anywhere else in the world. Much more than peoples lives was lost that day. It is upto each one of us to contribute in our own ways to rebuild the future. As aviators it is important now more than ever, to come out and fly to promote the cause of the future of General Aviation. Continue to read here.
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free Where the world has not been broken up into fragments By narrow domestic walls Where words come out from the depths of truth Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit Where the mind is led forward by thee Into ever-widening thought and action Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake
— taken from the Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore
“It must be difficult for you that there is no way to lock your aircraft. Quite easy for someone to break in and fly away” I said without thinking. Continue to read here.
The weather has been dreary all week. Lee was making it’s way up the coast bringing rain, flooding, power outages and playing havoc. As if we haven’t already had enough. Rattled by earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, and tropical storms. Despite the external havoc, the foremost thought on everyone’s mind the last few days was the one thing that we will never forget. How could we? From front page footage of scenes reviving the horror, to recollections, and never before seen or heard stories of one of the worst tragedies to touch the free world. The somberness reflected on each and every face: remembering the horror of this day, ten years ago. It was gloomy on all fronts all week. Continue to read here.
In a way 9/11 triggered my childhood fascination for writing.
2001 was the year, I got my PPL. I could finally become a full member of the 99s. It was the year I took over as the editor of the Slipstream, the newsletter for my local chapter. Continue to read here.
“You have to go down to 350 feet for the flyby,” I reminded gently. “I am not going any lower“, pat came the response while Grace stayed steady at 400 feet. “We’ll be disqualified if we are not at or below 200 feet for the flyby,” I said a trifle forcefully.
After I got my PPL, there were many a time when I would show up at the airport for a quick flight early in the morning before heading out to work or in the evening for a sunset flight. Living in a small campus town, close to the airport made this sort of thing easy.
Just an hour or so, flying along the coast, first heading west, then turning north, swinging around the Morro Rock, peering at the waves, the beach goers, the surfers and the rising or setting sun, following the coast up north towards the Hearst Castle.
Looping around Hearst Castle. Swinging by Piedras Blancas, before heading back south. Through San Simeon Bay, back over Morro Beach, and continuing south to Avila Beach, Pismo Beach and Oceano before heading back home.