Under normal circumstances I’d be writing this column from the comfort of my home office. I probably wouldn’t be wearing closed toe shoes, or long pants, and I sure wouldn’t be wearing a sports jacket.
Instead I’m putting this little missive together at Gate 42 among a mass of random people gathered at Orlando International Airport. Shortly I’ll be moving to Row 20, Seat D, on a transport category aircraft, accompanied by a good number of these same folks who currently surround me.
Is this flying? I’m not at all sure it is.
Of the hundred some odd people on the airplane I’m preparing to board, only two will be doing anything that approximates flying. The rest of us will be doing our best to be compliant, complacent, and calm throughout our journey.
What we won’t be doing is participating in the aeronautical adventure in any meaningful way.
My fellow passengers and I will not be responsible for making any decisions more important than whether we stow our carry-ons in the overhead or beneath our seat. This is transportation, not flying.
Don’t get me wrong. This is a good thing. It’s relatively convenient. It represents a fairly economical use of our time as we travel from central Florida to Washington, D.C. And to be honest, it’s not all that expensive. But it isn’t flying. Nope. This is something else entirely.
Most of my fellow passengers will never know the joy of dancing on the pedals in an effort to follow the yellow line that leads from the hangar to the runway and back again. They’ll never glance down at the airspeed indicator, looking for it to indicate rotation speed. The joy of pulling back on the controls to point the nose skyward will never live in their present, or their memory.
I feel a little sorry for them. Don’t you?
By the time we became airborne, my most negative impressions had been validated. Nobody turned left for a quick peek at the front office upon entering the aircraft. Nobody seemed to care about what was about to happen at all. They’re all focused on the destination. They see the journey as meaningless.
How is that even possible?
As we zip along, five miles or more above the face of the earth, cruising at speeds that are almost unimaginable, virtually all the window shades are drawn. It’s a beautiful morning over the southeast. The sun is shining, a few puffy clouds hang low over the peninsula of Florida, and nobody but me seems to be the least bit interested.
The beaches of Florida gleam in the sun. The Atlantic Ocean laps at the shore, and it’s all plainly visible from my seat – until my seatmate pulls the shade announcing, “There’s nothing to see out there.”
Holy Myopia, Batman! What is an aviation enthusiast to do under difficult conditions like these?
If not for being recently inundated by literally thousands of people who have the exact opposite reaction to aeronautics, I’d be worried. But I’m not.
Because for all the folks who populate the general public and show almost no interest in aviation – even when they’re at that moment in an airplane – I know there is a movement afoot that’s bringing teenagers into the fold in big numbers.
There are folks looking to join flying clubs where they can enjoy the recreational aspects of aviation, even while they plan a vacation trip by air – at considerably lower altitudes and speeds than I experienced today.
Rusty Pilots are getting back in the air by the thousands, and new, interesting aircraft are popping up all over the landscape. Flight schools are beginning to up their game, get creative with tools available to them for training, and scholarships abound for those who could use a helping hand either at the start of their flying career, or farther along when they’re trying to add-on a rating or certificate.
And that’s to say nothing of the gizmos, gadgets, doo-dads, and thing-a-ma-bobs available to dress up those aircraft to be exactly what you want them to be.
If you are like me and find yourself standing in a long line of galactically bored individuals who are preparing to file onto a transport category aircraft where they will kill time while en route to some far-off destination, do not despair. There is a brighter story to be told – even if it’s a little less obvious.
While the passengers may be ignoring the two pilots in the front office, the pilots are having the time of their lives. They get to fly big iron, and most of those who get that chance just love it.
Many of them haven’t lost their affection for the lower end of aviation either. The places and machines where they learned to fly and honed their skills still resonate with them. And one or two of them actually live at an aviation community, fly behind piston powered propellers, and navigate by looking out the window just for the fun of it.
If we can assume that weird people do things that only a very small percentage of the population would ever do – then it’s possible to come to the conclusion that aviation and aviators are weird.
And I’m just fine with that. I may be out of step with the majority, but I’m fascinated by the view out my window from Row 20 on one of Boeing’s finest twin-engine transports.
So while there are more than 100 people on my flight who apparently couldn’t care less about what’s happening up here in the ether, I know there are two fellas up front who are pretty into it, and at least one guy back in steerage who’s enjoying the experience for all he’s worth.
Is this flying? It is in my world. Here’s hoping you get a big healthy dose of air under you soon, too.
A couple of years back, don’t fly much heavy metal, I noticed the window shades were down when we entered the plane. I thought it must have been on purpose to save on air conditioning load on the apu, perhaps.
Seems to be SOP now. And the last flight a couple of months ago very few people even bothered to open the window shades any time at all during the flight.
This culture is changing. And becoming increasingly small.
I’m a window seat guy, all the way. I want to see the awesome acceleration on the takeoff roll, and the earth falling away as those powerful engines push us higher and higher. I love trying to figure out where we are on the route by looking at what’s on the ground. It is, indeed, the journey. I’m just happy to be part of this “weird” group of people called pilots.
I share the author’s viewpoint. I get really upset on a commercial flight when the window (I always get a window seat) is so scratched up I can barely see out. They use Brillo pads to clean airplane nowadays?
I once took a Ryanair flight from Stanstead in the UK to Rome. I had an aisle seat and didn’t get to see the Alps. The flight itself was OK, but the entire plane smelled like the Ram’s locker room after a big game due to passenger’s prodigious lack of the use of soap. My son flew the entire trip with his jacket over his head trying to mitigate the “aroma”.
On the other hand, I took a train trip from Ely to Edinburgh and it was absolutely delightful.
I’m not a pilot but I’d love to be. I’m a fine artist and fine art photographer. I’m also very nearly deaf from having served in combat. So much for about me? As for flying-I’ve never been on anything that wasn’t commercial or military MAC flight but I can guarantee you I’m totally fascinated with flying. My wife and I have a life opportunity to start flying and owning our own aircraft. I studied aircraft and flight years ago unaware that deaf people aren’t allowed. My wife wants her pilot license and I know she will achieve it. Looking forward to NOT being herded like cattle and NOT having to sit in back unless I choose to. As for looking over into the pilot area-I did and do whenever possible. I’d love to be seated up there and thrill to the view and experience.
In the U.S. you can get a pilot certificate when deaf. The certificate will be restricted but you can still fly. It will have this notation on it, “Not Valid for Flights Requiring the Use of Radio” (14 CFR section 61.13).”
The human animal is a strange creature that thrives on “normaling.” This shuts out the “novel and exciting” unless it falls within the narrow bounds of “acceptable” (we pay lots for ziplines and rollercoasters). Increasingly people do not want to comprehend the miracle of flight and would rather “dull-down” into a screen. 5 miles high hurtling through space? Flight is too scary to comprehend; shades down!
And miss the greatest show on earth! Because of this attitude and the TSA (thousands standing around) insults, I prefer long road trips to commercial flights. I am looking forward to a new home in Nevada, not far from Minden, where REAL flight is practiced.
Minden, Carson and Reno in the valley of mountain wave wind. This is why Minden is a glider-port. But if you want the ultimate challenge make sure to takeoff-land at Truckee as often as you dare. Especially in summer.
I’ll never understand it. There we are, with a view of the earth & sky totally inaccessible to humankind until a few decades ago, and everybody around me is buried in a magazine or staring at the “in-flight entertainment”.
I guess I’m just weird. This perception is reinforced by my many acquaintances who find it odd that my spend most of my spare time flying light aircraft that don’t fly very high, very fast, or indeed very far, just for fun….
So glad someone else has discerned the massive difference between flying or even passenging in any aircraft, and suffering in the back of one.
Thank you Jamie for expressing this sentiment so well.
I do not fly commercial anymore…not since getting trained and owning my own plane. Beating a system filled with anxiety and pain is worth every penny my plane cost to buy and maintain.
My first airline flight was in 1964 on a grand DC-8. Most people vied for a window seat. Everybody dressed up and behaved themselves for the entire 7 hour flight. We all got a hot dinner and a hot breakfast, too. Plenty of knee room. Flying was an adventure.
My last flight was transcontinental a month ago on an A-310 Scarebus. No food, no kneeroom, no fun. I don’t believe half the PAX even bothered to bathe. Not much different than the city subway.
My feelings exactly Jamie. I have those same feelings every time I ride on a airliner! Most people just don’t get it, poor slobs!
As a retired airline pilot I feel your pain riding in the back. Good chance I have experienced my last cattle call of ever riding in the back again. Too much like the communal experience of riding in a Greyhound bus, these days. I either drive, fly my own airplane or don’t go. I hear a hallelujah.
A pilot knows that the thrill is in the journey not just the destination! Thanks for another great article! KT
The ground bound group that would most likely agree and often use the same expression of “the journey”, travel on two wheels. A big sedan or SUV would be more comfortable, but, the journey IS the destination, for many a Biker, just as it is for many of us in a light plane.
You nailed the airline experience! So glad that this very day I get to spend 3+ hours looking out the best windows on any plane, the front windows! Keep up the good work Jamie!
Great story! I was on a flight from Burbank to Denver and while in route we had an amazing view of the Grand Canyon. I tried to point it out, to share in the spectacular view…. but they all just thought I was weird.