Logbooks

I bought a new logbook today. It's large, shiny, and, similar to an imitation Italian sausage, came in a tightly wrapped plastic casing. If you're like me, spending money in any capacity is usually only because it's a special occasion, like birthdays or National Pancake Day. But the beginning of my professional pilot career called for an upgrade from my training logbook, so I ventured across the airstrip and found the biggest, baddest hardcovered journal I could find. Some $30 later, (man that would have paid for a truckload of PB&J's) I emerged carrying what's now the most important document I own. As I made the first few entries from recent flights, I found myself thumbing through the 200 + empty pages, wondering what it'll look like 5, 10 years from now. What kind of aircraft will I be flying? Where am I gonna go? Who's coming with me? After all, the word 'logbook' is really just an adult, grown-up word for storybook. My story tells the tale of my entire training record, of lessons learned and great achievements. It details the highs and lows of persuing a dream, frustrations from listening to my instructors bark orders at me and the elation that came with each passed checkride. It's proof that I did actually do this, even if some days it still doesn't seem real, like I'm on the brink of being woken up and told it's time to get ready for school. Like someone's just going to come along, swipe my pilot's licenses and run off. But it's real, and the logbooks show that it's real.

So maybe my brain is still fried from flight school, or maybe I'm just a nerd, but either way, I think my logbook is special. Thanks to free internet technology, I'm able to share a piece of it here. My instructor back in Texas first showed us the website during our first few weeks there, and it instantly became a source of competition between myself and a few of my classmates to see who could log the greatest variety of airports flown into. We spent hours flight planning to some of the most random plots of pavement we could find, often coercing the CFI's to take us to unauthorized airports in some pretty questionable locations. I've lost track of where I stand, but thanks to a few re-locations and transfers along the way, I'm starting to put dots all over the country.

I've flown to places I never dreamed I'd make it to and airports I never knew existed. I've been fortunate enough to fly over both coasts and the Gulf of Mexico. I've flown above mountains and over vast desert expanses. I've buzzed over the top of some of the coolest sports arenas and around a few major U.S. cities. See, a few months ago I never had the time to sit back and actually enjoy all the flying I was doing. I was overworked and underslept. (Note: probably not a real word.) Now that I'm outside the flight school crucible, I find more joy than ever in being able to fly airplanes, and, miraculously, be paid for doing so. It really is true. Most days, I spring out of bed, anxious to start my day of flying. Hopefully the zeal for flight instructing can sustain me over the next few years until I find my way into an airline career. Regardless, I'm learning as much or more than I ever did during my training. I just still can't believe that it's real. Forgive me if I spend too much time staring at my logbook.