BigD, thank you for starting this and to all the rest of you for sharing your thoughts. You've done me a favor all of you.
It's been a long time. So many years, so many months, so many days, so many hours. Ahh yes, the hours. Some exciting, some boring, some frightening, some calm, some curious, some wild, some furious, some so memorable they literally bring tears. ALL special, ALL beautiful.
The tic, tic of a little 4-banger, the purr of a Continental, the toughness of a Lycoming, the hum of a R-985, the song of an R-2800, the rumble of a 4360 the mother of all radials, the forgiveness of a PT-6, the unforgettable scream of a Dart with a Dowty Rotol prop, the power of an Allison, the rush of a JT-8, the special whine of an RB-11, and the whisper of a CF34. Memories.
The sunrise, the breakout from a solid overcast into the clear and endless blue, the lights of the city, the darkness of the Amazon jungle, the endless sand of the Sahara, the majesty of Kilamanjoro, the wonder of the Greenland ice cap ... 200 miles ahead from level 350, the stars you can almost touch, the fury of a North Atlantic weather system, the best wx briefers in the world .... Gander, the myth of the Bermuda Triangle, the sunsets of the Caribbean, the wonder of the Himalayas, the Andes and Tierra del Fuego, the frustration of ORD, the beauty of the fjord at Narsasawaq (sp), the ice in Labrador, the wind at old HK, the expanse of the Pacific (where did He get all that water?). The places, the special people, especially the special people. Memories.
"And there in the high untrespassed sanctity of space
Put out my hand and touched the face of God"
We're a unique breed, in our special world and there's nothing quite like it. In the billions of humans on this planet, very few of us actually share this calling. The special people. Aviators.
The very best to all of you. Thanks again BigD. You made my day.
"There are bold pilots and there are old pilots. But there are no old, bold pilots."