Page 6 - April 20 TNT

Position Report Therapy for Trying Times As I write this, we are living in unprecedented times. The COVID-19 pandemic has swept through the world and is picking up momentum in the United States. It has not only changed how we travel and fly, but how we live our every day lives. As the majority of us attempt to isolate ourselves, some with their stockpile of TP and hand sanitizer, there is another form of social distancing that I recently found particularly soothing. I head to the airport. With cross-country travel out of the question, my business travel bird must stay in its nest. However, inside one of our other hangars is our family’s jewel, a Cessna 172M that my mother purchased new in 1975. She lost her medical a few years back and my husband and I bought it from her. It is the airplane I attained my pilot’s certificate nearly 30 years ago, as well as my daughter, who’s now flying for the Navy. With a little over 1,200 total hours on the aircraft, you could say this airplane was mostly driven by a little lady to church and back on Sundays. Treated gently, flown sparingly. by Dianne White With a bucket, soap, microfiber wand and a hose, I go to work. I’m quickly humbled by how much surface area is on an airplane – even a 172. But, scrubbing the flecks of bug debris from every leading edge is therapeutic. Watch- ing winter’s layer of dust trickle off the trailing edge of the wing is cleansing for the soul. After carefully drying and polishing the paint until it sparkles, it’s satisfying to stand back and take in the fruits of my labor. She looks stunning, although I’m fairly biased. Since it’s a beautiful spring day with uncharacteristic calm winds, why not fire her up and take her for a flight, I think. My home airport is situated at the southern edge of the Kansas City metro area. Within minutes from takeoff, I’m over farmland and widely scattered homes. Racing (relatively) along at 1,000 feet AGL, I can see the begin- nings of new life in the fields and trees. Recent rains have resulted in an explosion of green. The spring time change has stretched our late afternoon daylight and the sun is still far above the horizon. As I fly along in my little Skyhawk with no particular destination in mind, the lyrics from Rush’s “Red Barchetta” pop into my head: Wind in my hair Shifting and drifting Mechanical music Adrenaline surge Well-oiled leather Hot metal and oil The scented country air Sunlight on chrome The blur of the landscape Every nerve aware. I have no illusions that my little 172 is a fair comparison to an antique Ferrari race car, but the feeling of freedom and solitude amidst the beautiful countryside below and blue skies above is much the same. The hum of the O-320 is soothing. This is flying! After a few touch-and-goes at an uncontrolled field 20 miles southwest, I make a circuitous path back toward my 4 • TWIN & TURBINE / April 2020