Up In the Air
22 Sep 2009
The other evening as I typed away on this blog, I had the unmistakeable feeling of being watched. You know, that strange feeling like a psychic pressure on the back of your head…you can’t ignore it, and as you slowly turn around, you’re almost positive where it’s coming from. Although it was nighttime, it wasn’t a frightening feeling- and I turned to look directly at Frog, sitting in a shaft of light in the doorway.
“Well, Hello there!” I said, surprised to see this glistening little fellow, watching me. “I’ve waited all summer to find a frog in my pond, with no such luck. And now, here you are! You’re late.” After all, it was almost Fall.
He hop-hopped a time or two as I reached to grab the camera- then, just as suddenly as he had appeared- he was gone. Just *blink*. I spent the next hour and a half tearing the place apart, not wanting the little evesdropper to die somewhere under the furniture, but I never found even a sign of him.
God speaks to each of us in ways in which we are comfortable in hearing from Him. Sometimes a Bible will fall open to a passage that seems to leap from the page with its appropriateness….sometimes someone we encounter will speak the exact words of comfort or enlightenment needed without prompting….a dream may come in the night to make something more clear….and sometimes a piece of the natural world can have a message for us if we can perceive it. So closely tied to the natural world, and enamored with my Native background, I pondered my frog message for only a short while before it made perfect sense to me. Frogs go through one of the most amazing transformations in the animal kingdom- shifting skin & body structure to slip from tadpole to frog, the body forms and lifestyles vastly different from each other. Frog’s message is that of change. Transformation. I’ve felt it coming for some time, so it’s not a surprise- what is surprising is that I used to despise change, and now I’m looking forward to it. (Still with some trepidation though) I fully expect most aspects of my life to alter within the coming months, and Frog just validated the feeling.
One change that has begun has been soaring with the Blue Ridge Soaring Society (BRSS). The previous post told of my initial flight with Peter….and since then, I returned to camp at the gliderport with a whole host of new friends, and I’ve taken Lessons #1 & 2, proudly writing my name (in ink) next to the word “Pilot” in my new Log Book.
It was Saturday of Labor Day weekend, and I was dawdling, slowly packing my camping gear and clothes for the long weekend. I was anxious to fly, but nervous about how many people would be at the gliderport and whether there would be a spot for my tent. (In hindsight a ridiculous concern, as my “two-man” tent is only one- person-sized, taking up hardly any room) I’ve never been comfortable in crowds, and being the only one I knew was making me nervous….but, that hasn’t stopped me before.
I got as far as Roanoke when it started looking very stormy, so I stopped to call ahead. Pat, who I had yet to meet, told me to come on- I’m sure without a moment’s thought of the weather, just being hospitable as she told me that I now had “an official invitation from the White House”. You can’t go wrong with that….
The weather was again completely different by the time I reached BRSS, and although a little light on thermals, it was a good day for a first lesson, with little in the way of buffeting winds. I hadn’t been there long when Tim, my Instructor, introduced himself. A pilot with Jet Blue, aviation is second-nature to him, as it is with most of the pilots I would soon meet.
We started with a long, careful pre-flight check, which felt like the perfect way for me to begin this new sport- as I needed to become acquainted with these albatross-like aircrafts. We slid our hands along the leading edges of wings, eyed the tail crosspieces, and examined landing gear, looking for any bumps and dings, anything “out of sorts”- and in doing so, I felt more familiar and comfortable with the plane. Then we clambered in. There is no other way to do it or better word to describe the act of slinging a leg over to stand on the seat, turn and sliiiiide down into a recline. Tim handed me a pillow that looked like it had been stolen from a Goodwill sofa….and it fit perfectly, keeping me from sliding all the way under the console.
A 5-point harness, and I wasn’t nervous until I noticed that my hands were shaking. Then Mike, our wingman offered to “hold” my camera for me. I didn’t fall for his ruse- hanging on to my little pocket-sized Olympus- but I’ll be darned if he wasn’t right- I really didn’t have time to take any photos! One on takeoff and one on the return- the rest of the time I was working-
Again, I thoroughly enjoyed the ride up to altitude, the rumpled green mountains rising under us, Tim at the controls. “”Okay, you’re on- see that yellow ball that looks like a little tennis ball? Give it a good yank and let’s fly” At that our umbilical cord and my stomach simultaneously dropped and we veered right while the towplane dropped away to the left. Then there was no sound of motor, just the whoosh of air through the side port in the plexiglas on my left. The next twenty minutes slipped past in a blur, and I rarely even glanced up from the dash and the stick- too new to it all to realize that I could do it by feel if I would just relax. We did a few turns and discussed the gauges and how to feel the actions of the plane- and before I could absorb it all, we were on the ground and I was walking back to the flight line, grin firmly fixed.
It seems I can’t help but grin, both before and especially after a flight, but during them, I’m sure my face is knitted in concentration. More from the desire to get it right than in fear of the dangers involved. Knowing there’s an Instructor shadowing the controls is a very comforting feeling….though eventually I will solo….




When I was shown the craft I’d soon fly in, a long, graceful-looking Blanik with forward-swept wings and a “doublebubble” for two, I was more than happy to help get her downfield. Linked by towrope to a golf cart, the sailplanes each get a “wingwalker” who holds the starboard wingtip level and walks the plane downfield to the takeoff. Expecting it to be quite heavy, I was amazed at how light the incredibly long wing was….and how it seemed anxious to taste every tiny breeze that fluttered by.

Our towplane was a retired cropduster, perfect for the job because of it’s quick maneuverability, responsiveness and its ability to fly at much slower speeds than other small crafts- all assets for towing. Suddenly my heart was beating so fast- I wasn’t nervous until I slid into that reclining seat and fumbled with the five-point seat harness. Then before I could notice, a wingwalker appeared to my left, first nodding to Peter behind me, then motioning to the towpilot with a circle of his arm….and suddenly he’s running with us….and we’re bumping along the ground, fast and faster…the swish of the short grass audible above my beating heart. I could feel every bump & divot in the ground below and the thought had just started to form about how thin the plane’s skin must be…when, even before the towplane left the ground, our eager little craft was already in the air!!

I will not pull the red thing, I will not pull the red thing, I will not..









”These cantaloupes are sweet enough to knock a billy goat brains out?”
On the left is a Cherokee tomato, a “heritage”variety and non-hybridized, it’s an unusual dusky burgundy color, and I’d have a hard time telling when it was ripe on the vine. (That’s the covered, built-in cast iron griddle on my ancient stove. When the Realtor showed me this place, he immediately suggested I replace it with a spiffy new stainless steel one- and I think he was more than a little shocked that I loved this stove right off the bat- it’s got a little warming oven on the side too- just made for pancakes on a Sunday morning)


You can’t really see the sign in this shot I took from the road, but they always announce the day’s special, and today it’s Fried Green Tomatoes.
“We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. Regardless of who you think you are!!”













