When I step foot onto the concrete tarmac, to admire the aircraft and its curvature, with all its elegance, from a distance. The matte black aluminum blades are attached to the reflective white fuselage, with small bolts all over the perfectly bent sides of the aircraft. A feat of engineering that the human race has been attempting to perfect since the dawn of time, and yet here it is. The real piece of machinery that allows flight.

When I approach the plane I admire the craftsmanship, seamlessly connected without a bolt or screw out of place. Then I step onto the wing, slide the key into the hole, swing the door open, and crawl inside, onto the hot seat. Flick a few switches, and watch as the ILS system aligns. I slowly slide my body, crawl into the passenger seat, and open the floor compartment, revealing my flight books and maintenance equipment. I reach into the pile of tools and pull out a glass bottle. Then, I walk out and feel the pedos on the wings accepting how they always burn my skin, walk to the fuel test lines, putting the glass cup up to them, and wait as the blue liquid fills the glass. Pulling off the remove-before-flight flags. Then taking the chocks off the tires. After an eternity I go back into the cockpit and turn on the fan. 

My flight instructor then climbs up onto the wing and enters the cockpit, and says “Well, you know what to do, let's practice speed management.” I turn on the engine, and taxi to the runway as he scrolls on his phone. I just sit and really think about flying and its beauty, forgetting the risks without questioning. Even though I am  16 with my whole life ahead of me, there are some things that are just worth the risk. As I put the parking brake on, I request clear of the runway. The next thing I know I am on the runway with my throttle to full. 

Once I’m in the clouds life feels clear as glass, cruising over the soft puffy clouds. They say flying is dangerous, they say it's not worth it. But once I look outside, I see the heavens, the view humanity has been searching for centuries and only found recently in the small glimpse of time. Flying is not meant to be thought about, only to be done. I could think about the fact of how useless this skill is to know or if there are any benefits to learning to fly. But then again, the view and the satisfaction make all of those thoughts dissipate as they come.

After what feels short and sweet like the sugar in your tea, my focus changes. I land on the runway and watch as the ILS lights change color almost as if mocking my every movement. Nothing more can be thought about, all there is; is the thought of landing. Watching speeds, altitude, and my approach. There is almost a sense of peace in a tense moment. Before I know it I feel the tires hit the ground and the heavy G-forces as I come to a stop almost as if I woke up on a roller coaster. But when I come to a stop, my mind starts to flash my life before your eyes. 

In this thought, I think about if the risks are worth it, being 16 and having my life ahead of me. But the risk is worth it, I don't even need to create any justification for it in my mind. The view man has been seeking all of the time and having the ability to do it is just worth it. Even putting in endless hours learning to fly the thought just bounces out of my head, the feeling of flight is like nothing else, with the beauty that is above everything.