"When in Doubt, Chicken Out"

There you have it, my new favorite quote. Definitely not one to instill confidence and pride. It's no, "seize life by the horns and beat it down until you come up on top," like most of them are in one way or another. But, from an aviation perspective, it's pretty good. And I'm pretty sure I read it on some aviation website. Oh yes, I did. When I was reading the how-to's on hand propping.

Don't get me wrong, I like inspirational quotes as much as the other. They're posted all over my board. And I'm pretty sure one or two of them helped me get through to my licence when I wanted to quit. But when you're flying, those who tell you to laugh in the face of danger or to throw caution to the wind and take a chance, probably wouldn't then get in a plane with you. Why? Because you'll more than likely kill them, or give them a landing they'll tell stories about for years to come.

I've been waiting a long time to take my friend up in my plane. Not really just to take her flying and show off my awesome skill in my wicked plane (yes, take note of the sarcasm here), but to also have an hour or two of her just to myself. There were no familial obligations at 4000 FT, no tight schedules, no phone calls, just me and my friend in the Fargo. Unfortunately, the Fargo was not happy with me and ran like a sonofabitch, leaving me in a rather difficult predicament. To get her up there in the first place required a great deal of reassuring; you know, the typical, no, we're not going to crash and die, and yes, there are many places to land if we did have trouble, but no, it's really safe. Then, I take off and the plane shakes.

So, here was my dilemma. Pretend there is nothing wrong and try to continue with the flight as best as possible, keeping careful eye on the surrounding fields and roads for a good landing spot at all times. Or tell her, this thing is not running well we have to go in, and eliminate any chance of her ever climbing into the cabin of my little Fargo again.

Usually, when there is something wrong or iffy with the Fargo, I ask a friend, to which he always replies, it will be fine. Lately, the replies have become, go flying you big baby. So, I figured that would be the response he would have given me had I asked him, and tried to go with, it will be fine. I kept an eye on things, listened ever so carefully to the rough chug of the engine, until I finally decided, I can't keep up the ruse, things may not be fine and I don't want her experience with me to be one of an emergency landing into a muddy, sticky field. Hell, who am I kidding? Her husband is a rather large man, her father is extremely overprotective, and both of them have access to guns. . . lots of guns, and I wasn't ready to end my flying career when it had only just begun.

So, I told her we were going in, I went with the quote and chickened out. And, it did turn out to be nothing. Well, not completely nothing, but nothing serious, just a dirty spark plug. But I hate that my flying tends to be a little on the chicken-shit side of things than the rough and tumble bush pilot end. However, I guess this attitude is what will enable me to get to the more rough and tumble end of things because I'll have time left to learn it as opposed to crashing into a ditch because of a stupid decision. And, I have to admit, as boring and irritating as those cautious types are on the ground, I'd much rather be in the air with one of them than a fun, fearless daredevil. Honestly, would you rather fly with Travis Pastrana who's jumped his dirt bike farther than anyone else? Or with the old man down the street who never fails to cross his t's and dot his i's? Not to mention, I couldn't help but notice that my friend sat in the drivers seat of the Fargo for the first time in a long time when taking it up for the test flight. Seems he wasn't in the mood to risk my emergency landing either.