Long before I started studying German, I used to write a lot of poetry for kids.  Those of you who have been following Making This Home for a while have seen some of my poems here and there.  Writing children’s poems seems like a past life, right along with flying an airplane and eating Mexican food.  I guess when you move to a new country, you do sort of lead two lives.  Every once and a while, the two merge in my heart.

Here’s the first poem I ever presented at a reading.  I thought you all might like a quick change of pace as we roll into the weekend.  This one’s for the girls who dream.

(Oh – in case you missed it, here’s my whole story of learning to fly on a gravel runway in the Rocky Mountains.)

I’M GONNA BE A PILOT

I’m gonna be a pilot soon
and sail through the sky.
If you think I cannot soar,
when have you seen me try?

I’m gonna be the best pilot
that you have ever seen
in leather goggles, leather hat,
and checkered scarf in green.

I’ll know the fancy airplane words
like aileron and stuff.
I’ll twist the dials and land with ease
when the weather gets real rough.

I’ll climb the sky and whirl around
so Earhart would be proud,
then make big barrel rolls and dives
To please the neighbor crowd.

I cannot wait to learn to fly!
For now, who cares if you laugh
Because when I get good,
you’ll want my autograph.

By now, many of you are probably pretty familiar with our summer adventure in the United States.  You know the one – where I got really brave and hopped in the pilot’s seat of an airplane, and where Martin got even braver by sacrificing the well-earned (and well-worn!) pilot’s seat for three whole months.

But what you don’t know are some of the details that followed – like the day we flew to Berlin and what it was like sitting waaaaay in the back of a commercial plane on the Exact Same Runway I used to take off from.  Then there are the occasional little bits from my journal – like the day I made my 100th landing or attempted to land but wound up bouncing 20 feet of the ground!  All of those little bits are right here on a brand new page where we live to tell:

Learning to Fly, Summer 2009

I can’t wait to meet future women who think about flying, and even those who don’t – because you all know than the idea of flying never crossed my mind.  You know what I would say, no doubt:  DO IT!

And of course, we’ll be sure to keep you posted on future flying progress.  Martin even popped the “Want to get another pilot rating?” question the other day.

Please check out the new page, especially the end, and let me know what you think.

As a final note, thank you.  Your virtual high fives during the entire process of flying with Martin (and then flying without Martin) made the experience all the more wonderful.  I sometimes wonder:  could I have done it without all of you?  All I know is how thankful I am to have you here with me on this wonderful journey.

After a slew of requests, I’m back one more time to talk about… you guessed it… flying.  From where we can go flying to where fuel goes in the plane, here are the answers to the most asked questions during my flying journey:

1.  Can you fly in Germany?

Sadly, the answer is no.  While we have the lingo down (all pilots must be fluent in English), our licenses are completely invalid in Germany.  It turns out even Martin would have to study for several months just to earn the private pilot’s license in Europe (which is the license I’ve been working on all summer).  We could rent a plane and hire an instructor just to be able to touch the controls.  But with auto gas costing $9/gallon in Germany, we don’t see ourselves affording even a quick jump into the sky any time soon.

2.  Are you sad about not flying in Germany?

Last year, it didn’t bother me a bit.  Martin was going crazy without flying, and I couldn’t understand.  Now I get it.  I can’t believe I feel nostalgic about the sound of a little airplane taking off.

3.  So where do you put fuel in planes?

Fuel goes in the wings.  Kinda seems strange, huh?  You have to climb a ladder to fuel this plane.

4. What’s the hardest thing about flying little planes when it comes to people who don’t fly?

As a pilot, you have to be really flexible with the weather.  Sometimes you could be delayed for days if you’re trying to fly somewhere.  Most people don’t understand this (and understandably) because we’re used to commercial flying or driving, which aren’t nearly as inhibited by weather.  Flying small planes requires so much study and observation of the weather.  You can’t just get in and go.  No thunderstorms, nothing that could cause ice to build on the plane, no hail…

5.  Do you have to keep your license current somehow?

Yes.  If you don’t fly for several months, you have to do a number of practice flights before you can have passengers.  You also have to have a flight instructor sign you off every two years regardless of how often you fly.  It’s all about safety and making sure you know what you’re doing up there.

6.  You’ve mentioned this before, but did you have any interest in flying before you met Martin?

Being in a small airplane never crossed my mind before I met Martin, let alone learning how to fly.  Going up in a hot air balloon was on my list of things to try one day.  I thought of helicopters, too, but never airplanes.  I think it’s because I’d been in a commercial airplane, so I focused on the types of things I hadn’t tried.  (And boy was I wrong – small airplanes are nothing like commercial planes.  Small planes are so much fun!)  It’s all pretty interesting to think of how we grow and develop through our relationship with others.  I also never expected to live in Berlin, yet here we go.

Hello friends.  How has your week been?

Ours has been an absolute whirlwind.  As you know, Martin and I have this “itsy bitsy” project going on; he’s teaching me to fly.  The last two weeks have been the make or break point.  I found myself wanting to earn a pilot’s license more than anything.  And you know what?  For the first time, I didn’t want it for anyone except just ME.  I didn’t want to pass my tests to please my family or my airplane-loving husband, and I didn’t want to pass just to be the “safety backup” in case of an emergency in the air.  I wanted to be Katie, The Pilot.  haha!

Learning how to fly isn’t a subject that comes naturally to me.  It involves so much physics and mechanics, and my mind cannot grasp these concepts as quickly as, say, Martin.  Most women can’t because on average, men are more interested in engines and airplanes than women.  I’m sure that’s why there are so few females in aviation.  I don’t know about what you did, but you can bet that once I met the science requirements for college, I was done.  Done!  (bleck!)

The last two weeks, Martin and I have been doing so much flying and documenting (my skills and flights, Martin’s certifications, the airplane’s certifications…).  I can’t even tell you when the last time was that I slept through an entire night without solving some sort of flying procedure in my dreams.

I feel so technical.  I feel like my entire self is in the clouds – not in the dazy, doffy way – it’s more like the sky is feeling like home.  Maybe it’s part of the reason I love living in the country mountains so much.

Here’s the play-by-play since I saw you last:

Saturday:  I took a 2 1/2 hour written exam.  (We had to fly 1 1/3 hours to get to the FAA approved test center.)  Martin and an iPod waited in the lobby of the little general aviation airport while I took the test.  Some questions were easy like identifying parts of the wings.  Other questions were enormous math problems based on maps like the one over Dallas Fort Worth.  This test was the easy part after weeks of prep work – I aced it!

Sunday:  Out sick.  No flying.  Poor studying.  Just needing to come to terms with the stress and bad colds that have hit our house.

Monday:  A second solo cross country flight.  I had to work with two (TWO!) different control towers at larger airports.  I didn’t get stuck in “airliner rush hour” like my last solo tower experience… I learned to relax on the radio.

Tuesday:  Moved out of the Tire House after a long morning of flying around the valley, practicing difficult flight maneuvers.  Yep – Sept 1 marked our second temporary return to living in a hangar.  I guess if I’m dreaming of airplanes, I might as well sleep twenty feet from one.  That way, I even get the airplane smell.  We also spent about three hours preparing “homework” and flight plans for my second exam…

Wednesday:  Flew 1 1/3 hours to take a practical exam.  The very basics of my exam:  2 1/2 hour one-on-one questions from an examiner, 1 1/2 hour flight exam, and 30-minute review of why I made decisions I did, where I wasn’t knowledgeable, and ways I impressed the examiner (like my TOWER radio work!  Oh wow.)  Martin sat in with us during the final review.  I had no idea if I passed or not.  I’d done so many things very well, but I was not perfect.  I kept thinking, “One mistake.  That’s all it takes.”  The test wasn’t like a grade – either you can do what you need to be a proficient pilot or you can’t.

Then after much discussion about my entire test performance, the examiner reached out his hand.  ”Congratulations, Katie.  I’m going to give you your private pilot’s license.”

You know how I responded?  Totally like a girl!  I had tears in my eyes.

I guess I can do that, right?  After all (insert huge grin, walking-on-air, feeling)… I am a pilot now.

(Image of me at the airport in a Navion Airplane a few years ago)

Taking the day off.  Flight exams approaching.  Seriously considering a new habit like nail biting.

Have a beautiful day with all those simple joys you love, and I’ll see you right back here tomorrow or maybe Wednesday.  -Katie

“Okay, we just had an engine failure,” Martin says.

I strain my ears and lean forward.  My eyes squint a little as I strain to listen.  The engine sounds perfectly normal to me.  So I look over at him with my nose crinkled in question.  ”The engine seems fine to me.”  I’m wondering if I should be panicking for not even noticing we’re about to plummet to our death.  Here I am, just flying along like nothing is wrong.

A long, exasperated breath floods my headset.  ”We’re trying to simulate a failure,” Martin answers.  His voice sounds tense, and I can tell he’s trying not to be annoyed.

The thing is my husband can notice mechanical problems that most women would never even notice.  Heck, maybe most men wouldn’t either.  Three weeks ago, he kept straining to hear this low whistling noise when we driving on the interstate to go grocery shopping in “the big city”.  He swore this awful whistling was coming from the front of the passenger’s side.  Could I hear it?  Why couldn’t I hear it?  I, of course, heard absolutely nothing wrong and wanted to continue to listen to our audiobook.  But I couldn’t.  We pulled over, and there was nothing wrong with the engine or the tire, or anything else.  In fact, we didn’t really have a problem at all.  A piece of tumbleweed was caught above the tire.

So he notices things I don’t.  And maybe I couldn’t hear that, but I sure as heck knew that our engine was still running when we were flying.  I could hear that.

That’s one of the problems with learning to fly with your spouse.

* * *

Another lesson two weeks ago.

The first time I went flying at night, I got the first kiss from my soon-to-be husband.  The last time? Well let’s just say I got the opposite of a kiss.  (I much more prefer the kiss.)  Martin was mad.

I’m sort of liking the pilot’s seat now, which means I need three hours of night flying and ten landings as part of earning my license.  Landing a plane at night is like driving down the highway in the dark, without headlights – scary, confusing, and harder than heck to see.  It’s just another one of those things that experienced pilots make seem so easy.

Come fly with me at night and you will see it is not easy, and any experienced pilot like my husband might freak out just a tad.

But I will keep practicing.  I want those kisses back.

* * *

I’m trying to figure out how to do 45-degree turns better.  They’re the kind of maneuver that could make you revisit your lunch in about five seconds.

The very basic idea is that you have to start in one position – say facing 180 degrees – and make a complete circle until you’re facing 180 degrees again.  Your wings must tip 45 degrees through the entire turn.  So those of you who understand physics (i.e. definitely not me), you can guess where the challenge is.  You have to maintain altitude.  It means I cannot let the plane descend 1,000 feet per minute like it wants to.  I cannot let a 500 feet per minute descent happen.  (You see where the returning lunch comes in, no?)  I practiced these turns over and over on Monday morning.  It takes so much arm strength that now it hurts to stir cookie dough.

You can laugh, but we’re on a crunch.  The pickings in the fridge and freezer are getting slim.  We’re eating a lot of oatmeal because we have a lot of oatmeal.  We’re eating a lot of black beans because… well you get the idea.  We have ONE last bag of chocolate chips – a luxury item you cannot find in Germany.  And if you come over tomorrow, you can share some of these amazing cookies with us.

But I must warn you: come after lunch.