Fear and Flight

Flight, in its purest form, riding dynamic air currents on engineless wings while soaring above the earth, brings emotion which is simply, indescribable. If I were to try, I would use feeble words like magical, excitement, wonder and elation in an attempt to portray being alate. Although rarely mentioned by aviators, such delight however, comes at a price. I have to admit, on occasional I feel apprehension, anxiety and even downright fear. Maybe notice of an accident, a personal inflight incident or some unjust inner sensation of this dark side which is otherwise surrounded by joy, yet certainly part of flight.


Today, while starting my takeoff roll in typical, summertime right cross-tailwind conditions on runway 34 at WSC, my right wing drops immediately and despite full opposite rudder and aileron deflection I weathervane off the runway while dragging my wing in grass as I head for the ditch. POP, like a gunshot, I pull the release, aborting the takeoff without conscious thought. PHEW. Despite an underlying apprehension, takeoff attempt two goes flawlessly. But, as I near the mountains on this 30 mile tow, turbulence increases and I'm dealt frequent slack line. Winds are in the upper 20's and I'm hitting lee side rotor. I request tow above ridge level and release at 500' AGL, immediately get flushed, work lee side thermals and climb back above the ridge.
The lift is disorganized and turbulent. I'm frequently going weightless, my landing gear is slamming into the gear doors beneath my seat and one hit sends my camera into the canopy, but despite this I'm able to climb, here in the lee.
A beautiful sight to the North, of forests, mountains and even a high lake bring some peace.
I spend about an hour working the lee, unable to go anywhere as it seems surrounded by sink. I notice a column of smoke near Indian Valley Reservoir. No, wait, its not smoke, WOW, its the biggest dust devil I have ever seen. A giant column rising thousands of feet into the air gives an image of todays potency. Lucky for me I can't get there, take the hint and head out. I plummet through lee side sink and approach the foothills where the air becomes calm, PHEW again.

Next comes the valley, but there seems to be a layer of "real" smoke. Its clear past, at the Buttes, and here near the foothills, but the middle seems obscured. WSC calls advising a fire SE of the airport with surface visibility deteriorating to 1500.' ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

My two alternates, crop duster strips, are clear below, but smoke is on the way and by the time I descend I could have poor visibility at an unfamiliar, tiny strip. Nah, I check my transponder, call traffic advisories inbound and race towards WSC. Close, I notice the fire is out and I can hang on until the clear edge reaches the airport for an uneventful landing. PHEW again ... again.

When fear and flight mix, one needs to ask if the fear is justified. If yes, resolve or prevent the origin. If no, reflect and question. Soaring is a wonderful game, played in the sky, but most certainly played for real. Well, is it worth it? For me, YES IT IS.