GEE, reading leiafee's post got me in a nostalgic mood so I dug out my old log books, I used to use them almost like a personal diary in the comments column. All the entries brought memories flooding back, some good and a few not, but all of them worth remembering.
There was the time that I flew back to the home field in aeronca 2914E with my brother and we arrived just as a front came through, it took me 3 tries to land with a 30 knot crosswind and the boss (I was the gasboy) chewed me out because all the instructors and other pilots went to other airports to wait out the frontal passage.
The sweet memory of young love was another entry when I flew my high school sweetheart to dinner (had to fly-no car cause I spent my entire salary on flying) at a restaurant near the Bay Area and afterward we flew over San Francisco in the dark at 1,000 ft (it was legal then) with the city lights glowing so bright the the Luscombe we were in seemed afloat in a golden halo.
Another was flying my Dad over Alcatraz Island in a Mooney to watch the 4th of July fireworks only to find out there were at least 6 other aircraft circling Alcatraz with the same idea, then a year later on his last flight when he was dying of cancer, we flew to an airshow in my 172 where I had to declare a PAN alert to land on a closed airport because he got desperately sick.
My present wife took her first flight with me in a Beech 99 hauling freight from Oakland to Seattle on a wild stormy night with rain, snow, turbulence, and ice and was both scared and mad because she had not been able see the ground for the entire trip-what an introductory flight, that one reads "true love conquers all"!
A real pucker factor entry simply says " wire"---I was hauling people and light cargo into various little dirt strips at the Geysers Geothermal project in the low mountains in No. California and failed to notice a new wire some rancher strung between 2 trees on the approach end of the strip, it tore the left wing tip off the 182 and scared the hell out of me!
One of the most memorable is flying almost all the way across Arizona and New Mexico after a big snowstorm had gone through on a severe clear night with a full moon turning the totally white landscape into a silvery fantasy more beautiful than a Christmas card---that one was in a Seneca II.
Making the last few loops over a fire in the dark in the San Bernardino Mountains with the orange glow illuminating the Commanders cockpit (it was not quite pumpkin time Mike) rated a "BEAUTIFUL FIRE" entry.
The memories we make while we're flying are among the best and worthy of some kind notation, after all, when you get old and have to quit, the memories are all you'll have---and that's enough to show a life well spent.
There will be sunsets, sunrises, rainbows, scary moments, serene moments, happy times and sad times, times when you smell the grass after a landing in a field, and times when the profound silence of a rural flightline will make you feel closer to God than any cathedral could, these are moments you can't live over.
So, write'em down, you'll be glad you did someday. Works for me.
