The piece titled "A Love Affair", came about through the nagging of a very persistent lady. At the time it was written, which was I
think in '80 or '81, I was the Canadian representative on the executive of the International Cessna 170 Association. The club
published a monthly newsletter, and the secretary, a gal named Velvet Fackleday, had been bugging me for weeks to write something
for the newsletter. I spoke to her one evening by phone from my office. We talked again about me writing something, and I said I
didn't really have any ideas about something interesting, that others might enjoy reading. She said "Why don't you just write
something about what flying means to you ?". I decided right then to try to put something together before I went home, and this
piece just kind of spilled out of me.
It did make it into the newsletter, and was published at some later date by Richard Engel at Aviation News. A fellow in Calgary saw
it and contacted me, wanting to have it engraved on some brass plaques he was producing for sale. I gave him permission to use it,
and quickly filed a copyright on it. He produced just a few copies, and sold the second one (I got the first) to the president of
Cessna in Wichita. The last I heard, it was hanging in the reception area at Cessna's offices. I was supposed to get a royalty on
all that he sold, but never saw a penny, and he soon disappeared.
It still has a lot of meaning to me, and perhaps someone else will be able to relate.
I'm In Love! I'm in love with flying.
Not just with aviation, or with airplanes, but with flying.
I know that this is not just a passing infatuation, but a real, true love.
This feeling has existed in me for nearly all of my life, and grows stronger and deeper with each passing day.
I'm in love with flying across green and gold farmlands, over deep lush forests,
above high mountain peaks, and among the endless northern lakes.
I'm in love with flying high above the prairies on a clear winters' night under a full moon,
with thousands of sparkling lights like stars reflected from snow covered hills and fields.
I'm in love with following a wandering river at low altitude, waving to a swimmer as I pass.
I'm in love with keeping a sharp eye out for wires and towers,
while skimming over a broad field of blossoming rapeseed,
and even with cleaning the bugs off my airplane afterward.
I'm in love with flying over an airport and watching a plane on final approach, or climbing away on departure.
I'm in love with conversation on the radio between other pilots and the air traffic controller.
And with broadcasting my position blind when joining the pattern at an uncontrolled field.
I'm in love with map reading, dead reckoning, and with tracking the VOR.
I'm in love with dodging clouds and fog to remain VFR,
and with unexpected delays at unfamiliar places when there is no place left to dodge.
I'm in love with vectors to approach at large, busy airports,
and with tight patterns to small grass strips in the middle of nowhere.
I'm in love with judging the crosswind on the runway, and with a short lift-off into a brisk headwind.
I'm in love with steep approaches over obstacles to a short-field landing, and with reminding myself to
"fly the airplane until the tie-down ropes are on", when taxiing in high winds.
I'm in love with the roar of the engine on take-off, and with the hush on the flare to a landing.
I'm in love with leaning the mixture by gauge, by feel, and by ear.
I'm in love with the smell of avgas, and of hot engine oil.
I'm in love with the squeak of the tires as they meet the runway at the end of a good approach,
and with the smell of grass when landing in a friends' pasture.
I'm in love with the puzzled looks from his livestock as I taxi past them to park in his yard.
I'm in love with the look of wonder on the face of a child as he beholds the world
from the new vantage point of his first airplane ride.
I'm in love with the hushed kiss of the floats touching a hidden lake at sunrise,
and with the rattle of the skis across drifts of snow in the cold deadness of winter.
I'm in love with standing alone by my airplane at the end of a long summer day.
Watching, as together, our shadows lengthen into the gathering dusk.
I could go on and on forever! These are but a few of the ways that I'm in love with flying.
To me, flying is much more than an act. It is a feeling to be sensed, an emotion. It is intrigue, frustration
satisfaction, peace, and freedom, all rolled into one. It is challenge, it is exuberance, it is occasionally fear.
But it is never boring!
Flying is not life, but it is a goodly part of mine, and I love it.
Rob McCaghren
Calgary, AB, Canada
1985