Dad flying the Cessna , the Honda Civic of small air craft, in the skys near Washington DC. I've never seen him so nervous to do anything in my entire life. (Plane pictured was not ours, but very well could have been)
Granted, the prep work we did on the ground with the flight instructor was at break neck speed. We sat in a class room with a poster of the inside of the cockpit. An Israeli pilot, with the thickest of accents, explained the instruments like we were about to drive a simple lawn tractor.
But the stakes were much different because this tractor would shortly leave the ground. Although the instructor would take over if need be, it sure felt like we were being thrown in to sink or swim.
It was a big joke when the bob sled with wings actually left the ground. I was in the back seat, being drown out by engine noise, but was laughing insanely the entire way.
Everything was fun and games until we came in for the landing. Wind sheer is a bitch. The insignificance of our small vehicle was made known as we began to approach the runway almost side ways.
Before you land, you can straighten the plane to correctly touch down. They call this "crabbing". I call this "what a shitty gift I would have given my dad if this flight lesson kills us both"
But the Israeli pilot takes the stick for a brief moment and everyone (my dad and I) could breath.
