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| Kieran Waigel ('22) |
For as long as I can remember I have always been fascinated by flying. Being able to surf with the clouds is such a surreal experience. On trips I found myself more excited for the plane ride than the destination itself. At 12 years old my parents signed me up for an aviation summer camp at Bowman Field. It was a week-long of ground school classes combined with some flight simulator training aimed at allowing kids who might be interested in aviation to dip their toes in the field. The highlight of the camp was on the last day. I got to hop in an old Cessna 172 with a flight instructor and take the controls during a quick flight around Louisville. A switch flicked in my head during that flight and the second we took off I knew that this was something I could do for the rest of my life.
Following the camp, I looked into ways to continue with flight training, but staggering costs combined with minimum age restrictions (17 years old to get a license), stalled my flight training aspirations for the foreseeable future. Instead, I picked up a $5 copy of Microsoft Flight Simulator to assuage my flying desires. Years passed and I had racked up hundreds of hours on the simulator. By the time my 18th birthday came around flight training had become a past dream. I was in engineering school; where was I going to find the time or money to pursue training? In spite of that, my parents got me a birthday gift that changed my life: three flight lessons at Bowman. I hopped on the phone and scheduled those lessons while I recalled the memory of flying in that 172. Driving home from my first lesson I couldn’t stop grinning. We didn't cover anything crazy, just taking off, flying the plane straight and level, and making a turn here or there. Nonetheless, it was incredible.
Thanks to making sacrifices such as living at home, I was able to plan out a budget to cruise through a full training plan. I started flying three times a week, and I loved each lesson. During this phase of training, you’re working through plane maneuvers, takeoffs, landings, radio communications, and emergency procedures all in preparation for the first major milestone in any pilot’s training career, the first solo flight. Bad weather delayed my first solo for over a month but finally, on March 11th, 2019, the sky was clear and the winds were calm. I hopped into N13520, a 1973 Cessna 172, with my instructor. We took off and started doing some laps in the traffic pattern making sure my landings were up to snuff, and after a few laps, I pulled up to the flight school and let my instructor hop out.
Taxiing out to the runway alone in that plane was probably the most terrified I have ever been. What if I screw up communications with the tower? What if my engine failed? What if I bounce a landing too hard and can’t gain control back? Sitting at the hold short line I considered turning around and doing it another day. Before I could give it any further thought I got the takeoff clearance from the tower and I took the leap. Leaving the ground for the first time alone was surreal. At that moment I realized no one else was there to help me if I screwed up. If I messed up a math test, my grade takes a bit of a ding, but life moves on. If I don't stop in time for a traffic light, my insurance rates go up, but life goes on. If I messed this up that was it, I was the only person on that plane who could get back on the ground with everything intact, pilot and all.
Looking back I noticed that I wasn’t plagued with fear, but exhilarated. All the anxiety sitting at the hold short line melted away and was replaced with a sense of peace. I think Wilbur Wright described the sensation best, “more than anything else the sensation is one of perfect peace mingled with an excitement that strains every nerve to the utmost if you can conceive of such a combination.” Looking down over the city from 1000 feet above nothing could bother me. it was just me, the calm voice of a tower controller through my headset, and a 46-year-old piece of engineering. After a couple of laps and a smooth landing, I was back at the flight school. Getting out of that plane my parents and flight instructor looked more relieved than I was.
That flight humbled and inspired me; it showed the extent to which I could rely on myself. There was no room for self-doubt, and it showed that even in some of the worst or most dangerous situations you not only have yourself but can trust yourself to get through it. There was no choice. As the adage goes, takeoffs are optional; landings are mandatory.
Kieran Waigel, of Louisville, Ky., is first-year McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville where he plans to study computer engineering and computer science and political science.