Earning my wings

I landed my private pilot license ten years ago. I was an at-home mommy at the time, but I picked up a job working at the boys' preschool to help pay for my lessons. I learned to fly a Cessna 152 and would practice once or twice a week. It took a year to obtain my license. While most of the other student pilots were college kids with serious professional flying aspirations, I just wanted to prove that I could do it. My father and my husband were both pilots, so I had always had a personal connection to aviation. The decision to follow through with my dream came during a rocky time in my marriage and my resolution was driven in part by anger. The process of learning to fly helped restore my self-confidence.

For about a year afterwards, I would fly locally for fun. I flew mostly 172s, but I also checked out in the 182 and took a spin in a ZLIN, which is a Russian single engine trainer with a stick.

The experience was definitely worth the time and money. Learning to fly was empowering and liberating, but the trouble with flying is that one must fly regularly in order to be a safe pilot. More than once I would find another little prop off my trajectory and the pilot would not announce his presence on the local radio frequency. I also grew to realize that there were other things I'd rather spend my money on than flying. I stopped flying altogether after about a year later.

While I haven't flown in several years, I consider learning how to fly an accomplishment of which I am proud.