This week in Vegas was my first time on an airplane in 20 years. My last time was in 1986, and I’ve successfully avoided it ever since. Typically my reason is that I’m hauling motorcycles and gear with me, and those don’t fit in an overhead compartment. But I’ll admit the thought of getting on an airplane didn’t exactly thrill me. Lots of guys who race motorcycles don’t like to fly. The current AMA Superbike points leader doesn’t fly if he can help it, but last year’s champ just got his own plane and pilot’s license. Go figure.
It was interesting…I was nervous and curious at the same time. Thankfully I had the luxury of an exit seat on the wing, so I could see what the airplane was doing. As we accelerated down the runway and lifted off, I had to laugh and exclaim, “I’ve gone plenty faster than this!” I looked it up, and sure…and MD-82 series lifts off at about 140mph. At that speed, I can still get the front wheel up, and I’ve got two more gears! Once we’re in the air, though, that’s another matter.
My only regret is that I wasn’t able to circle Bismarck-Mandan for a while. That would have been so cool, but our route actually didn’t afford us a view of the cities. Once we lift off, we bank left and head south, so there’s no way to look down at Bismarck or Mandan. Coming in was a little better; I was able to get pictures of the Memorial Bridge. But I couldn’t get anything on the left side of the aircraft, i.e. Bismarck. I saw my parents’ house south of Mandan, but only briefly.
While trying to calm myself on the flight down to Nevada, I thought of how I’d spend an evening wrenching on one of my motorcycles, then get up in the morning and wring its neck at triple-digit speeds all day on the track. I never had a bolt come loose there, and I don’t even have a checklist like aircraft mechanics do! I also remembered what it’s like to dive into Turn 1 at Brainerd on the first lap: the wind is so bad from 60+ bikes hitting top speed down the straight and into the corner that riders are buffeted back and forth like rag dolls, clinging tenaciously to the handlebars. Air is NOT smooth. Turbulence is normal. So is creaking. And if the wings didn’t flop up and down like that, they’d snap off. Physics is a wonderful thing. Gradually nervousness dissolved into curiosity; I was planning on sleeping all the way down, but instead I rarely even blinked.
On the flight back I sat next to a very nice Christian lady, I’d guess in her 50s, whose dad was an airline pilot. She’d obviously spent a lot of time aboard jets. She also had a portable GPS with her, so we had a grand time watching the boundaries go by and that sort of thing. She also was starting a new Clive Cussler novel, so we talked about different authors and stuff. I told her all the favorable things I’ve heard about Ted Bell and Vince Flynn, since she likes intrigue. Someday I plan to dive into their novels too.
Then we touched down, and here I am. I took the big bike out today on a blast to Beaver Bay, only to find out that Bosch’s Bayside, the restaurant I enjoy for a double bacon cheeseburger, has closed since the water’s gone. What a disappointment. So I turned back around, blazed home. From a seat-of-the-pants impression I was accelerating faster than the MD-82, but I don’t have any way to compare other than that.
It sure is good to be back in Bismarck! Did I miss anything while I was gone?
