Paul Knapp
Flying - 6/5/2005
Remember the thrill of learning to drive a car? It wasn't easy BA (before automatics). Coordinating the clutch, gas and direction took some time to learn. Remember lurching along, fast - slow and then forgetting where you are headed? But the excitement of the freedom and the ability to go where you want without Mom or Dad, WOW! That was a long time ago, and now driving a car is more work and apprehension than fun.
Then came a motorcycle, a trail bike. There was a real struggle to learn to ride it without major disasters. The bike did some crazy things going over rock and logs. Going through a creek was always fun, and the thought of rounding a sharp turn in a trail with a big skunk standing there was kind of a turn off. A flat tire back there somewhere caused a little trouble to, so you had to carry extra tools for that, and spare spark plugs to replace a fouled plug. The excitement of going places in the hills that you just couldn't reach any other way was worth the efforts. We could ride gas lines, logging roads, and deer trails over country from Eleanor to Sissonsville for a month and not cross the same trail twice. As I got older, the effort increased to levels that made trail riding less enjoyable, (I didn't heal from the bumps and bruises as fast either). Well, I'm old, so I guess its time to sit in my rocking chair and watch other people enjoy these things.
On the other hand, I always wanted to fly. FLY, are you nuts? At 66 years old? Insane!~! Well, Bill Noffsinger, even older than that, flies. Maybe he just doesn't know any better, and he's had a private license since the 50's. He wanted me to fly with him in the Cherokee so what the heck, it would be fun. Mickey and Gretchen were there at the field flying a parachute. What is that? I'd never heard of such a thing. They even said they would take me up in it for an intro training flight. Well, why not. They seemed to enjoy it and hopefully they wouldn't intentionally do me in. On second thought, I had both of them in school, so you never know. That flight was really something, and totally different than the Cherokee. You were right out there with the birds, and the bugs, and the cold wind, and everything else that the motorcycle gave you plus the most exhilarating freedom of flight, FLIGHT!!! You're up there in 3D, going in all directions. My knees wobbled once we were on the ground, and they said they wanted to sell the chute, and I could buy it, and they would teach me how to FLY, and my wife would kill (KILL) me if I even thought of it. Well, to die from that, or doing something I always wanted - that was the question. What the heck, I decided that you could only die once, whichever came first. Fly.
That was a brave decision of me. Even if Mickey said the thing only flew at 30 mph, took off at 30, and landed at 30, it was intimidating. Well, all at once, there I was in the front seat, applying full power and completely ignorant. We were off. I followed Mickey's directions precisely, I wasn't flying that thing, I was following instructions. After a while it was time to land. We came around on downwind and down there was a very big, wide and deep river right next to a tiny, thin, postage stamp runway. We were going to land on THAT? We started down (precisely following instructions), at 100 mph (Mickey lied about that 30) and we miraculously hit the runway - and bounced BIG. I got out of the front seat after I finally remembered there was a seatbelt. I was sweating profusely, dizzy and my knees were so weak I could barely walk. I made an excuse and headed for my truck. On the way I passed Henry who said "who was flying that thing"? I wasn't about to claim that landing - Mickey was flying. He laughed. Would you believe that I went back for more after THAT? The second and third time was easier, but I decided I would never make it, so I went to find Mickey to quit. When I got there, I just couldn't quit. So, the day came I would solo-wearing my best golf shirt.
Well, I did it. I soloed. The feeling that day couldn't be matched by anything I'd done before. I've been on 6 continents, have two college degrees, wife, three kids, and won an election once, and all that didn't come up to being up there with just me and that plane. I'm not talking importance, only the sheer exhilaration I felt that day. So when Mickey and Doc cut my best golf shirt up and hung it on the wall, I just celebrated.
Since then, I have associated with a great bunch of people. There's the Captain, at 80 still flying, the Doc (Dr. Pack) who flies trikes and hot air balloons, Dave who could probably fly a rock if it had an engine, Chuck who flew in Viet Nam and was a Marine IP, Gretchen (one of few women pilots) who can fly about anything at the airport, Mickey who can fly it and fix it, Kevin who never had a lesson but can really fly, Mark who soloed after I did, Ed and Linzy with their Pterodactyl's and about 100 other people that make flying an ultralight plane a real pleasure. A special thanks to Henry Upton, who built the airport at Leon and made all this possible.