Michelle Voigts

Michelle Voigts

Observation Essay

Michelle Voigts

Observation Essay

10/24/2006

1,184 Words

A Mile of Highway Can Take You a Mile, But a Mile of Runway Can

Take You Anywhere.

Flying has always been a passion for my dad, but I never realized how much time and compassion he puts into his airplane. That’s why I learned so much during our time together about this hobby that he cares so much about.

My dad and I left our house and got to the airport in no more than five minutes, it being only a two and a half mile drive. We drove up alongside a metal shield, the hangar. Its yellowish color had long since faded and the sides showed rust along the bottom. A large, red flag was blowing with the wind off in the distance. “That’s the wind sock,” my dad told me. “It tells you the direction and speed of the wind.”

I followed my dad into the hangar. I had to walk fast in order to keep up with his 6’2, 200 pound build, but I was glad all the same because the cold wind wiped my brown hair, identical color as my dad’s, into my face. We stepped through the door and the stench of gasoline and old barn filled my nose. I was surprised to find that his plane was the only one there; the other compartments were empty besides a camper at the far north end.

My dad’s plane, a two seater, is a bright white color. It has red, yellow, black and gray strips that decorate the sides, and the numbers N18582 are largely printed on the rear. “That’s to identify it. Kind of like a license plate,” my dad explained to me as he picked up a wash cloth and started wiping off the windshield. “A big bug could block an oncoming plane, so this is the first thing you should always do.” I was surprised to see that the windshield was not made of glass, but plastic. When water gets on it this helps keep it from smearing.

I watched as my dad checked the oil and gas levels. “An airplane isn’t like a car; you can’t just pull over in the air. That’s why you need to make sure everything is good before you start your flight.” Walking around the airplane several more times, he told me we were good to go. At that a large gust of wind slapped the side of the metal hanger and it swayed a little unsteadily. I was glad to finally be getting out of there.

We opened the side of the hanger, much like a garage door opens. Attaching a long rope to the front of the plane, we dragged it out by its three wheels, two on the side and one at the front. The metal of the plane was perfectly smooth, but icy cold from being in the hanger for so long. I climbed up into the plane and we were ready to go.

The inside of the plane was much smaller than I would have guessed. It seemed like thousands of buttons and gadgets filled the front of the plane. I fastened my two seat belts, one across my chest, the other across my waist, and tried not to touch anything. My dad climbed in and started it up. It made a soft humming noise at first, but it quickly grew to the point where I almost wish I had brought earplugs.

“Clear!” My dad yelled out the window as we started down the runway.

The runway looked just like a highway; gray cement with a white dash down the middle. It was 900 feet from end to end and by the time I felt us leave the ground, we were going 90 miles an hour. In no time we were at 1,200 feet and I could just make out my house miles below us.

The air tasted much thicker up here, and as we climbed higher my ears popped. I was disappointed to see how dull the earth looked during fall. The dark browns, gloomy greens, and murky yellows all blended together for an overall depressing feel. The cars, seeming as if they weren’t making any progress on the road, looked like toy trucks I could smash with my hand.

My dad was constantly scanning the sky with his dark brown eyes, another characteristic, like our hair, I had inherited from him.

“You need to always be on the lookout for other planes. You don’t want any surprises up here.”

He turned his steering wheel to the right, and it was then that I noticed I had one just like his, copying his movements like a game of Simon Says. We passed over the football stadium and I took note of the dark red shields and bright yellow goal posts whose colors really stood out among the browns and greens from up here.

The reds and yellows from the track really stood out among the usual browns of fall

We headed out into the country and passed over dozens of hog confinements. I spotted a pink lake and asked my dad if it was contaminated. “I wondered the same thing the first time I saw it, but I asked the farmers and they said the pink showed that the bacteria in it was doing its job,” my dad explained, his naturalist traits showing through.

We soon came to a patch of wind turbines. Dozens of them were spaced strategically among the fields and from my aerial view they looked like plastic straws.

The clouds appeared to be big cotton balls, white and fluffy. We were directly under them due to the stronger than usual wind. “One of the scariest things that happened while I was flying was when a wind unexpectedly came up and it became very foggy. I couldn’t see where I was going, so I followed the highway under me and luckily found an airport. I waited the fog out there and then headed home.” But this didn’t shake him up enough to give up flying. “I’ve been flying since 1979. I love the view from the air and being able to control an airplane. I try to fly as much as possible.”

We headed back to the runway and as we started descending my ears popped back. The wind made a little turbulence and I was scared as we lined up with the runway, but my dad let up on the accelerator with confidence from his many landings over the years. We grounded without any problems and I climbed out and helped my dad put the plane away. He cleaned off the windshield one more time, and wiped the body of the plane off as well. I could truly see how much passion and love he puts into this hobby of his that he cares so much about. He placed a stuffed teddy bear pilot into the window of his plane to keep watch over it while he is gone. As he locked the door, he glanced back and said, “Well, until next time.”

10/24/2006

1,184 Words

A Mile of Highway Can Take You a Mile, But a Mile of Runway Can

Take You Anywhere.

Flying has always been a passion for my dad, but I never realized how much time and compassion he puts into his airplane. That’s why I learned so much during our time together about this hobby that he cares so much about.

My dad and I left our house and got to the airport in no more than five minutes, it Its yellowish color had long since faded and the sides showed rust along the bottom. A large, red flag was blowing with the wind off in the distance. “That’s the wind sock,” my dad told me. “It tells you the direction and speed of the wind.”

I followed my dad into the hangar. I had to walk fast in being only a two and a half mile drive. We drove up alongside a metal shield, the hangar. order to keep up with his 6’2, 200 pound build, but I was glad all the same because the cold wind wiped my brown hair, identical color as my dad’s, into my face. We stepped through the door and the stench of gasoline and old barn filled my nose. I was surprised to find that his plane was the only one there; the other compartments were empty besides a camper at the far north end.

My dad’s plane, a two seater, is a bright white color. It has red, yellow, black and gray strips that decorate the sides, and the numbers N18582 are largely printed on the rear. “That’s to identify it. Kind of like a license plate,” my dad explained to me as he picked up a wash cloth and started wiping off the windshield. “A big bug could block an oncoming plane, so this is the first thing you should always do.” I was surprised to see that the windshield was not made of glass, but plastic. When water gets on it this helps keep it from smearing.

I watched as my dad checked the oil and gas levels. “An airplane isn’t like a car; you can’t just pull over in the air. That’s why you need to make sure everything is good before you start your flight.” Walking around the airplane several more times, he told me we were good to go. At that a large gust of wind slapped the side of the metal hanger and it swayed a little unsteadily. I was glad to finally be getting out of there.

We opened the side of the hanger, much like a garage door opens. Attaching a long rope to the front of the plane, we dragged it out by its three wheels, two on the side and one at the front. The metal of the plane was perfectly smooth, but icy cold from being in the hanger for so long. I climbed up into the plane and we were ready to go.

The inside of the plane was much smaller than I would have guessed. It seemed like thousands of buttons and gadgets filled the front of the plane. I fastened my two seat belts, one across my chest, the other across my waist, and tried not to touch anything. My dad climbed in and started it up. It made a soft humming noise at first, but it quickly grew to the point where I almost wish I had brought earplugs.

“Clear!” My dad yelled out the window as we started down the runway.

The runway looked just like a highway; gray cement with a white dash down the middle. It was 900 feet from end to end and by the time I felt us leave the ground, we were going 90 miles an hour. In no time we were at 1,200 feet and I could just make out my house miles below us.

The air tasted much thicker up here, and as we climbed higher my ears popped. I was disappointed to see how dull the earth looked during fall. The dark browns, gloomy greens, and murky yellows all blended together for an overall depressing feel. The cars, seeming as if they weren’t making any progress on the road, looked like toy trucks I could smash with my hand.

My dad was constantly scanning the sky with his dark brown eyes, another characteristic, like our hair, I had inherited from him.

“You need to always be on the lookout for other planes. You don’t want any surprises up here.”

He turned his steering wheel to the right, and it was then that I noticed I had one just like his, copying his movements like a game of Simon Says. We passed over the football stadium and I took note of the dark red shields and bright yellow goal posts whose colors really stood out among the browns and greens from up here.

The reds and yellows from the track really stood out among the usual browns of fall

We headed out into the country and passed over dozens of hog confinements. I spotted a pink lake and asked my dad if it was contaminated. “I wondered the same thing the first time I saw it, but I asked the farmers and they said the pink showed that the bacteria in it was doing its job,” my dad explained, his naturalist traits showing through.

We soon came to a patch of wind turbines. Dozens of them were spaced strategically among the fields and from my aerial view they looked like plastic straws.

The clouds appeared to be big cotton balls, white and fluffy. We were directly under them due to the stronger than usual wind. “One of the scariest things that happened while I was flying was when a wind unexpectedly came up and it became very foggy. I couldn’t see where I was going, so I followed the highway under me and luckily found an airport. I waited the fog out there and then headed home.” But this didn’t shake him up enough to give up flying. “I’ve been flying since 1979. I love the view from the air and being able to control an airplane. I try to fly as much as possible.”

We headed back to the runway and as we started descending my ears popped back. The wind made a little turbulence and I was scared as we lined up with the runway, but my dad let up on the accelerator with confidence from his many landings over the years. We grounded without any problems and I climbed out and helped my dad put the plane away. He cleaned off the windshield one more time, and wiped the body of the plane off as well. I could truly see how much passion and love he puts into this hobby of his that he cares so much about. He placed a stuffed teddy bear pilot into the window of his plane to keep watch over it while he is gone. As he locked the door, he glanced back and said, “Well, until next time.”