The Big Whoop – chicken style
It is always the same.
I board a flight, get settled in my seat and open my book. Soon the engines begin to whirl and the plane races down the runway. About the time the wheels leave the ground, I invariably find myself clutching the hand or arm of the person sitting next me. After many years of this practice, both Significant Other and Youngest Daughter instinctively put out their hands for me to grasp upon takeoff or during turbulence. Now don’t get me wrong. I am not neurotic about this phobia, I am just a bit more anxious than most. The plane hits some bumpy air and a person or arm rest (I have not yet taken to clutching the hands or arms of strangers) soon has indentation marks from my fingernails. Sadly, it is almost a subconscious move on my part.
I explain this as preface so one might understand the significance of my next statement: “Even chickens can fly.”
With The Big Whoop Fly-In coming up this weekend, I thought it might be interesting to take an introductory flight to see just what the “Whoop” is all about.
As you may have heard, Calhoun County Airport is under new management. Calhoun Air Center, Ltd., operates both the airport and flight school. Dianna Stanger, owner of Calhoun Air Center, arranged my flight.
“You can do it,” she said. Hmmm, she has yet to peg me for the wuss that I am.
I arrived on the appointed day wearing comfortable shoes and ready for almost anything. I came prepared with travel sickness medicine and clutching my camera.
My flight that day was with Alain Cullivier. A.C., as he is better known, showed up looking just like a commercial pilot – uniform and all.
As he helped me into the plane, I wondered if he had been warned about the capon-like (if you get my drift) nature of his passenger.
Ever the professional, A.C. explained a bit about the plane and then proceeded to go through his pre-flight checklist. While A.C. went through the pre-flight inspection items, I buckled my seatbelt, situated the camera for easy access, and eyed the hand hold that might best withstand my clutching.
Soon we were taxiing down the runway, and before I knew it, we were off the ground. Wait a second – no bumps, no clutching and not a mark on the arm rest.
We didn’t fly far, but we toured Port Lavaca, Lavaca Bay and Palacios from a height of approximately 3,000 ft. Calhoun County is quite a sight from above. Early in the flight, I relaxed a bit and clutched my camera, not for some false sense of security but rather for taking some aerial pictures.
It became clear that Dianna had not mentioned my wussiness when A.C. gave me the opportunity to hold the steering wheel. He set a course and instructed me to look at the horizon while keeping the indicator within a certain range on one of the many gauges. Perhaps this would be the time to mention that Calhoun Air Center’s Cessna trainer planes have all the bells and whistles – not to mention that “new car” smell.
A.C. let me try my hand at having partial control of the plane. He let me make a slight turn and helped me to hold the right elevation. My apprehension must have shown at some point.
“You can’t mess it up,” he assured me. He then proceeded to rock from side to side.
“Even if we lost the engine, we could glide to a landing,” he said. Did he just cut that engine? Yep, I think he did. Nope, she definitely did not tell him that I am a big chicken.
“See how smooth it is,” he said. “We are just gliding.”
I am certain that there was nothing I could have done that the auto pilot could not have corrected, but it was awfully cool to think that just maybe I was actually flying the plane. If I ever get brave enough to sign up for flight school, this flight will count toward flight hours, according to A.C.
About an hour after taking off, we were on approach to Calhoun County Airport. A.C. was in control of the plane, and my camera was back in hand. With one of the most relaxed landings I have ever experienced, we were back on the ground.
“That was pretty smooth,” I commented as A.C. grinned ear to ear.
Yep, even chickens can fly.