Having said that, today the cloud had broken and lifted a bit and although still breezy, it looked good enough for me to pop across to the airfield after work for a local. I won’t give a blow by blow account of a local flight, but a few highlights perhaps and the sort of simple pleasures that even a local flight can give:
- The unhurried quiet of the hangar as I made a leisurely walkaround of the plane
- With just me on board, a wonderful take-off with the tail coming up quickly and becoming airborne before I knew it
- Leisurely climb to 3500’ and a wander over to see the grand bends in the River Severn
- Playing with the scattered cloudbase – yep, it was precisely 5300’
- Climbing to 7500’ just for the fun of it and seeing if steep turns still ‘worked’ at that altitude – they did!
- Looking down on the Malverns as though they were in a satellite photograph OK, imagination required here)
- Executing a very nice airfield deadside descent,
- Crossing the upwind numbers at precisely the right place, watching another aircraft take-off underneath me
- Run a decent final, flare over the displaced threshold and touch literally on the number
- Taxi in to a quiet airfield untroubled by radio chatter
- Pull up to the hangar, shut down and just sit there for a few minutes not moving, just drinking it all in
- Put the plane away and shut the hangar doors and just stand outside the hangar, not wanting to leave the apron
- Looking back at the airfield in the quiet of the evening as I drive away
I am certainly no poet, but in all, it was a bit like that first beer over the BBQ after a heavy days work on the house – that AAAHHHHHHHHH feeling. Can’t beat it!
