Some of my fondest memories growing up is all the time I spent in airplanes with my Dad. We logged hundreds and hundreds of hours flying together in both aerobatic gliders and Cetabrias. We would flip and spin, dive and steep climb, touch and go and buzz various buildings out in open fields. Every weekend and day off from school, you would find the two of us either doing maintenance on planes or flying.
I would sometimes bring a friend with us, and it was always a riot to see who would chicken out and who would actually go up with us. I’ll just say that more boys chickened out than girls! And…more than one BOY ended up needing me to hand him an airsick bag after enduring just a few minutes of aerial antics. I can vividly remember the glassy eyes and green faces of the poor guys, their ego shattered.
Autumn here in upstate New York, is undeniably spectacular. Layers of rich colors blanket the Catskill and the Adirondack mountains and we soared so high, soaking in the beauty. For hours we would float quietly in the sky in the glider, Dad telling me stories about his childhood back in Latvia. Or, we would perform all sorts of tricks up in the sky, the roar of the engine making it impossible then for any conversation other than flying information.