I had always wanted to learn to fly ever since my daddy took me to the local airport to fly with my Uncle Bill when I was just a 10 year old girl. It seemed like the most exciting thing a girl could ever do. I didn't think becoming a pilot was possible at the time since there were very few women pilots and the only aviation career open to women was behind the serving cart as a stewardess.
As time moved on I gave up on this fantasy, went to college and started working in an accounting firm as an Auditor. My job, although fulfilling intellectually, was quite routine and at times boring. Men usually tried to avoid me after they found out what I do for a living, so consequently I never married. I decided to try something different and follow my childhood dreams of becoming a pilot. I headed out to the same local airport I went to thirty years before to inquire about flying lessons.
To my surprise, I was met by a middle-aged woman who explained the process of going from neophyte fledgling to licensed pilot. She was a kindly, almost mother-like instructor whose instructional techniques made flying fun.
Since she wasn't always available seven days a week, I was allocated an alternate instructor. This is where the story takes a turn. His name was Dave. He was in his early twenties and absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. He looked like some blond god that was more at home with a surf-board under his arm than a shirt and tie. When I met him through Linda (my regular instructor), I first thought "he's just a snot-nosed kid" what could I possibly learn from someone who is old enough to be my child (if I had any). I said to myself however…"if only I was twenty again…" Boy, was I ever mistaken.
As it turns out, most of my flying was with Linda. There came one Saturday where I was free, but Linda had to attend one of her grandson's baseball games. I reluctantly booked a flight with Dave. I was just starting out doing circuits (touch-and-go's) and thought to myself…. "Oh well, at least I will get some practice next time for Linda" I still had that prejudicial impression that this kid couldn't possibly teach me anything that Linda hasn't seen in her many years of experience.
I did my walkaround (pre-flight inspection of the plane) and somehow felt like I was being watched. I noticed how the young male instructors leered at the young female students while they climbed up to check the amount of fuel in the tanks. Some of the girls knew this and wore particularily tight shorts just for this occasion. Normally I am no prude, but I thought that this flirting has no place here; we are here to learn how to fly, not pick up dates. Somehow this time, I kind of liked the feeling of being watched.
Dave came out from the Flying Club to meet me. We got in the plane and I started it up. I went through my run-up (engine checks) and proceeded to taxi to the active runway. Just before takeoff, Dave told me that he was speaking with Linda the day before, and said that she wanted me to go back to the practice area to work on my stalls and steep turns rather than stay in the circuit for this session. I said "OK", made my radio call and took off.
