Memories of Flight...

Santa Monica Municipal Airport (SMO) is one of the oldest airports in the Los Angeles area, starting its existence as Clover Field (a park just north of the airport bears the same name, as well as reflecting the previous location of the single runway). It is also, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful airports in the world (though all airports are beautiful in their own ways, those airports in the LA Area are just a little more elegant, from what I've seen). The first round-the-world flight initiated there shortly after World War I, conducted by the US Army on Douglas biplanes. Speaking of Douglas Aircraft, their beginnings were in Santa Monica, where the legendary DC-3, the airplane that paved the way to modern airline travel, was built. It is also the home bases for celebrities who are also pilots (Harrison Ford, Kenny G, and Angelina Jolie, to name a few). It also used to be my home base.


Though I had been reading endlessly about flying throughout my life for as long as I can remember reading, I officially started my flight training back in 2003. I was a high school senior at the time. My dad knew of my interest in flying from when I was barely able to walk, since he first took me to Santa Monica Municipal Airport when I was just starting to walk, so when I turned 17, and after attending a week-long educational "immersion" of sorts into aviation (LAX ACE Academy) run by Los Angeles World Airports, he felt I was ready to start flying.

At first, I was apprehensive. Not because I had fear of flying. But because I was quite aware of the cost that flying would incur. I was not in any type of "work-study" program at work, and no company at SMO was willing to hire a high-school student with no work experience who would work for cheap flight time (that's when I concluded that such opportunities were too good to be true). I didn't want my parents to pay for flying. It was something that I wanted to do when I felt I was ready to do it. But, hey, twist my arm, I'll go flying.

3 December 2003. Justice Aviation. Santa Monica Airport. Just a few days before, my dad and I set an appointment to fly on this day with a CFI named Holly. If you could imagine an attractive woman with fabulous red hair with the biggest heart, she would be what comes to mind. She is also one of the most professional pilots I have met.

That day, we flew for the first time. I flew for the first time.

Preflight. I remembered a few aspects from ACE Academy, when we did a walkaround on a Piper Cherokee based at SMO. This time around, it was in a relatively new Cessna 172 SkyHawk with a Bendix/King GPS and radio stack. Check fuel, make sure it's 100LL (blue), and that it is free of water and contaminants, check flight control surfaces, and general aircraft condition. Then I climbed in. She said, "You'll take the left seat." That's when my heart began to race (and no, it wasn't hormones that was causing my heart to race, in spite of my adolescence).

We started the engine, and Holly called Santa Monica Ground. We started to taxi to the runup area. She had already knew that I had a good idea of what was going on, and that I wasn't a typical zero-hour student (I had hundreds of hours in Microsoft's Flight Simulator flying under my belt). I already knew that when taxiing a light plane, it's done with your feet, on the rudder pedals. I was able to maintain centerline for most of the way there. Speed control, however, was a different story. Being new to flying, I was taxiing slowly, not at that "brisk walk" speed that is recommended, but more at a "relaxed crawl". But I quickly learned taxiing.

Runup. We moved the throttle forward to an elevated power level. We checked the magnetos, and the engine instruments to make sure everything was in working order. I checked the flight controls. Ailerons, rudder, and elevator were all moved to verify correct movement and ease of travel. I remember seeing a black Pitts Special biplane next to us. And I remember that goofy smile I felt on my face when I saw it. Then, I remembered, I am flying a plane...worry about the task at hand. After verifying everything on the checklist, Holly then called Santa Monica Ground.


"Santa Monica Ground, Cessna 2251 Zulu, ready to taxi to Runway 21 from Southeast Runup Area."

The ground controller replied, "Cessna 2251 Zulu, Santa Monica Ground, taxi to and hold short Runway 21." Holly, then read back the controller's transmission. And with that, we taxied toward Runway 21.

Runway 21 is at approximately at the magnetic heading of 210 degrees. This would aim us towards the Pacific Ocean. And it would mark the official beginning of my aeronautical life. Everything I did up to that point, I had been in an egg, being incubated, waiting to hatch. And this was the moment that I would break out from that shell, and spread my wings for the first time.

We lined up after getting clearance to position and hold. A helicopter was hovering over the runway, and was "taxiing" to one of the FBOs on the north side (well, more like hovering with a litle forward motion). We got clearance to take off, and Holly talked me through the takeoff. I saw everything she did, and saw what she was pointing out to me. A lot was going on, but I was easily able to manage it. We started to pull back on the yoke, ever so gently, and the SkyHawk was in the air. We were in the air. We were flying. She did the noise-abatement turn over the Santa Monica VOR, then over the golf course just past the airport. Then, she had me hold the yoke with my left hand, and throttle at my right. I held the climb, and then we turned to the north. It was all still unreal to me. It didn't register to me that I was actually flying. I was simply doing what came instinctive to a pilot in turning. Bank for the appropriate angle, at a little rudder to coordinate the turn, and pull the yoke back just a smidge to maintain climb in this case.

I knew, based on what I had previously read in articles in magazines, and on the Internet, that I was doing a little more than what was normal for a first lesson.

We climbed out to 4,500 feet mean sea level over the Santa Monica Mountains, overlooking Thousand Oaks. The scenery was beautiful, but it didn't register yet. I was fixated on the panel (I would later learn that this is a common problem for those who knew how to "fly" in MS Flight Sim, as it happened to a several flight sim enthusiasts that I know). At that time, it helped because I had the altitude in check, and I had the headings and turns on pretty good for a novice. I did better than I thought though. Holly would set the heading bug, and ask me to demonstrate a turn. We did a few turns over the mountains. I made the turns, as coordinated as I could, with as little variance in altitude as I could possibly control. She said I did well. And I did feel that I did do well. Then, she had me turn south.

"Now, Gil, how would you start a descent?"

I thought about it quickly, and the first thing I did was reduce engine power. Then, I lowered the nose a tad, and trimmed for the attitude. Apparently I nailed it.

That's when it hit me.

That was when I saw that sunset to our right. The sun, slowly setting, and the sky reflecting all sorts of colors that I had never seen before. I had seen many sunsets in my life, but this one was special. Seeing those mountains, the Pacific Ocean, and that beautiful sun that I was sharing the sky with...it was a moving experience. And all of this, while I was controlling an airplane. I was flying the airplane.

I was truly flying.

I knew that flying was going to be the thing for me.

Prior to that point, I had interest in several things after high school. Post-secondary education was the constant. But going to work straight from high school was also an option. A few years before I had interest in becoming a firefighter with the Los Angeles Fire Department (Honor, Commitment, Respect, Hoo-Rah!). I attended a "fire academy" run on weekends by the LAFD and West Los Angeles College, that introduced the honorable profession of firefighting to high school students. I also made a deal with a friend from high school that I had known for many years, that after getting our high school diplomas together, we would apply to become firefighters together. However, we never kept that promise. His family moved to the San Jose area, and he is in the US Army now. My family moved to South Florida, and I work for an airline now. But among the other things I had interest in was aeronautical engineering (I would have loved to design and build my own airplane of my own design, but my math skills had a lot to be desired), automotive engineering (I was in auto shop, and I loved cars), graphic design (the one thing that I felt I was good at in high school), and audio engineering (music is something that always fascinated me). However, I do feel that those things can be learned on one's own initiative, without having a formal education. Graphic design, and music, for example, are artforms. However, you can take anything you create, regardless of media, and call it art. I know art critics will cringe at my view of art. But, art does not have to be taught. And I do feel that spending money at huge institutions to get a degree just to paint is simply a waste of money and time. And what about cars? If you have a car, and a set of tools, you can pretty much do your own maintenance. The key is having the appropriate manuals. And, dare I mention aeronautical engineering and design?! Though I know that such a thing requires a good deal of education, it is possible to get by with so much as a love of flight and a desire to learn. Look at the fathers of powered flight! Look at the Wright Brothers themselves! Two bicycle mechanics from Dayton, Ohio, who knew next to nothing about flying, not only designed their own kites, gliders, and eventually airplanes, but even so much as dissected and critiqued the designs of people who flew before them (one example is noting the flaws in the gliders of Otto Lilienthal, a trailblazer in gliding before their time). Since when do bicycle chains, pedals, handlebars, and two wheels have to do with propellers and wings? Yes, I know, I'm oversimplifying, but you get the point. One can easily get the books, make the time, get the materials, and build a plane of your own design (something that I still want to do).

But that first flight changed everything. That was when I found my calling. I had always wanted to be a pilot. Even just as a private pilot, renting a plane in the weekends, I just wanted to have the license.

But no. Flying became the big thing in life. I wanted to be a commercial pilot. That's my thing. I had dreams of flying in airshows as an aerobatic performer, flying low and fast as a racing pilot in Reno, being on the cutting edge as a test pilot, working as a corporate pilot flying jets, flying around the world for an airline, and even flying around the local patch teaching people to fly. And all of those possibilities are still on the table, though some possibilities are stronger than others. But either way, flying is what I want to do. And that was the moment when I was able to say with total conviction and truth, "I want to be a pilot". I want four stripes for flying and wings of gold.

But all those possibilities didn't matter that time in the cockpit. Seeing those colors, seeing the ocean, seeing the mountains, and seeing Los Angeles awash in color...saying that it was moving was an understatement. I fell short of crying with glee. It was the most beautiful experience I ever had.

We landed as the sun was low over the water. We taxiied back. We parked the plane and tied it down. And then, I looked back at the plane I flew. It started a love affair that will last until the day I die. That's when I had flight time to my name.

I would continue to fly into the following year, but would stop in November 2004 due to financial constraints caused by Florida home insurance laws, Florida business practices, and two hurricanes that caused all sorts of damage to our newly-bought house just south of West Palm Beach. All in spite of paying less for flight training.

But all was not lost. After stopping my flight training, I started college at Everglades University, and transferred to Embry-Riddle. Though in hiatus with college, I am now in ground school to get the endorsement to take the Private Pilot Written, as you may have seen in my previous post.

I can't wait to get back in the air. Oh, if I could fly again...I will. I will fly again.

Mark my words, I will fly again.