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Occasionally
in life we accept an opportunity that renews our
self belief and for me, who is absolutely petrified
of heights, enjoying gliding is one of those rare
moments. Although it took until the second flight to
show me the ecstasy of soaring with the eagles and
put a smile on my face, I learnt that with courage
we can be blessed with incredible experiences.
For
the past fortnight I have been anxious about going
gliding with the Caboolture Gliding Club. Waking up
in the night, dreams of falling and a feeling of
dread have been my companions these past two weeks
after agreeing to go gliding.
Flying
was organised then aborted the first weekend with a
cyclone lingering off the coast, then the following
week the wind and rain meant no take offs so it was
with a kind of ironic relief that finally Saturday
dawned fine and I was flying.
Thankfully,
Garrett is a very experienced pilot and instructor
and assured me I would love the flight. “So long
as I come down safely” was all I could say after
signing the disclosure and listening to the safety
pep talk.
I
hop into his Banik glider and immediately am scared
– very scared. The glider is tiny and the cockpit
is very small with a shutdown canopy making me
breathe slowly and deeply to control my fear.
Garrett continually reassures me.
We
take off behind the small plane with a rope that
will tow us into oblivion – oops I mean to the
upper sky. I am warned the rope releasing will make
a slight noise, but it is like a rifle and I jump.
The instrument panels ticks away and with each new
noise I ask “is that bad?” I then notice
one is called Chaotic and wonder if that is an
indicator of passenger comfort?
We
circle the local area which is about 3000 feet below
and I force myself to keep breathing and really do
try to enjoy the moment. We pick up a few thermal
lifts to move around but when Garrett remarks on the
“amazing sink” I start saying my prayers knowing
the word sink means deep drop. Garrett again
reassures me he has total control and we circle a
few more times before lining up for our landing.
Gliders,
I was told land at about 100km an hour which seems
very fast. But I am pleasantly surprised as my
expert pilot guides us to what seemed like a very
gentle run to stop on the grassy verge. Unstrapped
and hopping out of my little cocoon I feel I should
be the pope and kiss the ground. I survived although
my shirt is literally dripping with nervous sweat.
Garrett
then chats and suggests we go up again so that this
time I can relax and enjoy the view and feel the
delight of flying. Is he mad? I have not died the
first time, why tempt fate and do it again? Then I
catch myself and realise this is an opportunity to
grow, to be courageous and face my fears and to
perhaps experience that exhilaration of floating
that glider enthusiasts speak of.
So
up I go again – and this time I soar. I relax and
let the wind and the thermals raise me up on
eagle’s wings. Under the little puffy white clouds
lie the magic thermals that take gliders ever upward
and for 20 minutes we circle and glide little kids
dancing in the air. I take the controls for a little
while and we twist and turn and skip through the sky
in a free abandonment.
When
finally the thermal evaporates it is time to go
home. We do a couple of languid circles over the
pine forests and edge back to again slide neatly
onto the landing field. Not only have I flown with
the eagles, but I have faced and conquered one of my
greatest fears. I get my certificate of flight and I
am smiling.
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