Tagged: shotgun

Tiny plane, or, that time I rode shotgun.

Madre and I took an amazing little journey to Vieques today, which is this tiny little island off the coast of Puerto Rico. It was, in a word, surreal.

We got there by flying in this teechy little plane that I got to ride shotgun in – I took some amazing aerials that are interspersed all over this blog.

It was one of the craziest experiences I’ve ever had. Let me preface by saying that I’ve always sort of had this desire in the back of my head to learn how to fly a plane. I don’t quite know how I picture this happening. I guess if I was in the right place at the right time with enough money kind of thing, you know? Like learning to scuda dive or drive a motorcycle or operate heavy machinery or make a souffle. One of those things.

Let me tell you right now that that desire has been throughly renewed. Refreshened.  Fuelled. Whatever the word.

I got into this tiny plane next to this guy who drove a plane like he was watching T.V. and eating at the same time. Have you ever watched someone who really knows what they are doing on makeup? It’s like there are all these different brushes and pads and cremes and colors and consistencies flying around and the girl looks like she could do it with her eyes closed riding a motorcycle and still look good. It was like that. The dude taxied out with his arm half out the window like a truck driver and then starting flicking this and turning that and pushing the other thing, and then Whiz Bang Pop we were driving down the runway and the ground just sort of fell away.

And yeah, I know everyone who has ever been in a plane has watched the ground kind of disappear, but this was a different thing entirely, watching it from right in front of you and all you see is sky and the nose of the plane swaying all over the place. Have you ever driven a car through a bad wind and you can feel the air pushing against you and you have to steer into it? Like that, but from every direction.

Oh, and speaking of steering, this little eight seater had a GPS in it that i could almost swear is the same one I have in my car, but instead of the car it’s a cutesy little airplane, and instead of freaking out about going over water, it’s nonchalant.

hnwcassandra gps

Honestly (predictably) landing was the worst part. Taking off was like whoosh yey!! Coming down was like NO. NO NO NO. NOT LIKE THIS.



In sum, probably everyone I know should now do everything in their power to prevent me from ever being in a situation where I could conceivably learn to fly a plane, because I already drive a car and that’s dangerous enough for everyone else involved.

P.S. – This has nothing to do with anything, but happy birthday to the most perfect man alive aka David Tennant aka Ten aka Casanova aka probably not my future husband but everyone needs dreams.