Ready Or Not

Most people are familiar with the NCAA Basketball tournament, aka March Madness, or, as I like to call it, the best three weeks in any year. Fundamentally, it's almost an entire month of avoiding any real work, reduced social and personal hygiene expectations, and the only sporting event that commands as much attention at the water cooler as prominent reality TV shows. The best part is the never-ending theme of David vs. Goliath. If you've ever seen some tiny, obscure university scrap and claw its way into a game against a national powerhouse, you'll know what I'm talking about. On paper, there's no way a Southeastern Lake Erie State Technical University should compete with Kentucky, Kansas, etc...And sure, for the first 5 minutes or so, tiny college A will pull out the big guns and give the juggernaut their best shot. The score will be close, initially. At some point however, the small school will usually run out of gas, and eventually mercifully give way to the giant. But...if you're lucky, a different scenario will unfold: the underdog will gain courage, begin to believe in themselves, that they really can win. Their hustle and intensity will increase with each made basket. And despite being over matched, their abilities are taken to new heights. It doesn't matter what happens in the end; the real winners are the fans who saw the underdog learn to believe.

This is supposed to be an aviation blog; I understand your frustration. All of that to say, coming in, the odds were greatly stacked against me. I'm not the most intelligent person around. I don't have an extensive flying history. My ability to focus is lacking; if it's not about sports, I find it very hard to concentrate. I took a massive risk in leaving it all behind. I am, and will always be, an underdog. But we're over two weeks in now, and things are coming together: the sectional charts are easier to read, configuring the airplane is more natural, talking to Air Traffic Control is less intimidating, making adjustments and corrections are second nature. My test scores are rising. My landings are smoother. With each flight lesson survived, my confidence grows. I enjoy studying now. A transformation is taking root. Suddenly, the mountain I'm trying to scale seems smaller. More than anything else, I believe.

The biggest news that's transpired since my last post is my inevitable breakup with PHAK, whom I discarded like a rented mule. Since I'm not one to sit on the sidelines, I have successfully filled the immense void with a new book, the Federal Aviation Regulations and Aeronautical Information Manual, or, as I affectionately label it, FAR/AIM. It can cure insomnia in one sitting. Even Federal Tax Code provides more scintillating reading material. FAR/AIM is heavier than PHAK; nearly 1050 pages of riveting, regulatory information that I absolutely cannot live without.

One of my college buddies, Lucas, has been pestering me about mentioning him in the blog. Since he was kind enough to fly into town for the weekend, it's the least I can do. So here's your shout-out Lucas, or, as my mom refers to you, Fred Lucas. There's still time for you to be the first male follower, or even the first male commenter. But knowing you, there's probably a better chance of Bryan College mandating instant replay for intramural Flag Football games than that happening.

My logbook says I've flown close to 20 hours now, enough that on Thursday, I'll be taking my first solo flight. No CFI on board, just me and the Cessna cruising around at traffic pattern altitude for 3 quick touch-n-go landings. I'll try my best not to end up looking like this, a casualty from last week. I noticed emergency vehicles out on the runway just after lunch, and yup, he forgot to put the landing gear down. The pilot was fine; the plane, however, will likely be sold off for parts. Yikes. I'll be sure to complete my before-landing checklist on Thursday. Should I be nervous? I'm ready for the challenge, but we'll see what happens...

PB&J Sandwhiches Consumed (to date): 16