Man Flies: A True Account of Taking Off, Flying and Landing

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By Michael E.C. Gery

Taking Flight

Then we let her rip, running to 1,400 rpm. Cheri checked the oil pressure, the gauges, the propeller pitch. We buzzed her to about 2,300 rpm, raised the wing flaps and pulled the yoke, rose skyward, and there we were: flying. In fact, I was doing the flying. I swung that yoke counterclockwise and the aileron flaps rotated us leftward.

“Try not to pitch us at a 90-degree angle,” Cheri called to me through the headset.

This baby can do 135 miles per hour at cruising speed. We were flying over Bunn in no time.

Cheri told me to stay out of the clouds. You need a special license to fly in the clouds. It’s the coveted “Instrument Rating.”

“How do they know if you’re flying in the clouds?” I wondered. “Who’s checking?”

Cheri figured it was a wise-guy remark. Then she said, “For one thing, you don’t know who else might be in there.” Good point.

When the two fuel tanks are full, this Cessna can carry four people for almost six hours, or about 750 miles. You could leave from Morganton-Lenoir (MRN) at 3 p.m. and fly to Manteo-Dare County (MQI), take a swim, then have dinner at the 1587 or Clara’s, and be back in Morganton by 11 p.m. or so.

We flew over Lake Royale and Louisburg and peered down on some landing strips out there, then we winged back to LHZ. Cheri radioed to a nearby pilot that we were in the vicinity. Then she radioed our intentions to LHZ: “We’re going to do a touch and go.” In other words, she would show me how to land the plane on a runway, then lift us back up. We’d circle, and I would land us the second time. No problem.

You know how it feels when your jumbo jet shakes and rattles as it tries to slow down on a runway? Well, landing in a single-engine Cessna is nothing like that. You let her down rear wheels first, then touch the nose wheel, then work those floor pedals and taxi in. Once you’re on the ground, it’s almost a let down. You feel like going back.