Sometime right before I turned 30 I had a life crisis and found myself weeping to my boyfriend that college was a horrible idea and that I suddenly regretted never following my real dreams of becoming a commercial helicopter pilot.
"You never said you wanted to be a helicopter pilot before," he pointed out.
Which was true.
The sudden obsession with helicopters hit me like a ton of bricks one day when I was being boring in my work cube.
The desire didn't even go away when I learned that the Air Force wouldn't take me because the cut off date was 29 years old. Or when I learned that it costs about $70,000 to get your commercial helicopter pilot license. Or when I learned that helicopter pilot jobs are super hard to get, and that you have to move around the world a lot because it's not like there are very many pilot jobs out there.
So when my boyfriend surprised me with a helicopter flying lesson as an anniversary gift, I could have died with happiness.
A short while later I scheduled a weekend flight with Sky River Helicopters at the Cross Keys Airport in Williamstown, NJ. The woman answering the phone told me I could extend the trip by 15 minutes for $75 and I decided that was a good deal. How often do you get to play with a real helicopter?!
We met the flight instructor who told us that we would have 30 minutes of flight instruction before gassing up the helicopter and taking off.
Looking back on it, I should have taken this part more seriously.
Instead I went into interview mode, asking him silly questions like, "What's the scariest moment you've ever had in the air?" and "Do you love your job?"
He answered my questions and then got to the business of teaching me how to fly. But I was too excited to really pay attention and only caught phrases like "the helicopter yaws right," and "you have to compensate for torque" and "very sensitive instruments."
"We're going to live right?" I asked him and he assured me that we'd be fine.
The helicopter was a gray and blue Robinson R22, a two-bladed single engine helicopter. I called it cute because it was tiny and looked buggy.
He put gas in it, explained the controls, we took some photos and then I asked if it got hot in there up in the sky and he said yes, but suggested that we take the doors off.
Before answering, I tested the seatbelt strength. "What if I fall out?" I asked.
"Not with the seatbelt on," he answered.
So he took my door off.
We hopped in, put our headphones on, fired up the chopper and the instructor lifted off.
It was so loud but the earphones cancel out the noise.
"Remember not to focus too much on the instruments," he reminded, me. "You should be looking outside the helicopter the whole time."
For me, I think the scariest part is being like 200 feet up, staring at the swimming pool below thinking, "How the heck does this thing stay up in the air like this?"
We lifted off slowly and we bumped our way through the wind until about 1,000 feet before he let me take over the controls.
"We're alive!" I thought as we landed. The experience was amazing, totally worth it and it made me feel great to be alive instead of worrying about turning 30.
Although I think I'm going to surrender my dream of becoming a commercial helicopter pilot. Instead, I'll just be happy with the occasional helicopter ride.
FROM BUZZFEED: 30 Signs You're Turning 30
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| (Story art/ felt pen and a Post-It) |
Which was true.
The sudden obsession with helicopters hit me like a ton of bricks one day when I was being boring in my work cube.
The desire didn't even go away when I learned that the Air Force wouldn't take me because the cut off date was 29 years old. Or when I learned that it costs about $70,000 to get your commercial helicopter pilot license. Or when I learned that helicopter pilot jobs are super hard to get, and that you have to move around the world a lot because it's not like there are very many pilot jobs out there.
So when my boyfriend surprised me with a helicopter flying lesson as an anniversary gift, I could have died with happiness.
A short while later I scheduled a weekend flight with Sky River Helicopters at the Cross Keys Airport in Williamstown, NJ. The woman answering the phone told me I could extend the trip by 15 minutes for $75 and I decided that was a good deal. How often do you get to play with a real helicopter?!
We met the flight instructor who told us that we would have 30 minutes of flight instruction before gassing up the helicopter and taking off.
Looking back on it, I should have taken this part more seriously.
Instead I went into interview mode, asking him silly questions like, "What's the scariest moment you've ever had in the air?" and "Do you love your job?"
He answered my questions and then got to the business of teaching me how to fly. But I was too excited to really pay attention and only caught phrases like "the helicopter yaws right," and "you have to compensate for torque" and "very sensitive instruments."
"We're going to live right?" I asked him and he assured me that we'd be fine.
The helicopter was a gray and blue Robinson R22, a two-bladed single engine helicopter. I called it cute because it was tiny and looked buggy.
He put gas in it, explained the controls, we took some photos and then I asked if it got hot in there up in the sky and he said yes, but suggested that we take the doors off.
"Not with the seatbelt on," he answered.
So he took my door off.
We hopped in, put our headphones on, fired up the chopper and the instructor lifted off.
It was so loud but the earphones cancel out the noise.
 |
| In the R-22, tiny little thing right? |
For me, I think the scariest part is being like 200 feet up, staring at the swimming pool below thinking, "How the heck does this thing stay up in the air like this?"
We lifted off slowly and we bumped our way through the wind until about 1,000 feet before he let me take over the controls.
What a blast!
"You can be kind of sloppy up here," he told me. "I can get us out of trouble if you start getting too reckless, so just stop if I tell you to, ok?" he said.
He told me to try taking the helicopter down 500 feet using the throttle and the antitorque pedals and I did. He told me to take us up a bit and I tried that too.
The coolest part about having the doors off the chopper is that when you turned, you got an incredibly awesome view of the ground below you, and you just sort of lean out a little bit and it's thrilling.
I kept sticking my hand out the door to feel it whip back with the force of the wind resistance.
"Don't stick your phone out there," he warned me. "You'll lose it and it'll hit the tail rotor and we'll be in trouble."
Then he handed me the cyclic (the joystick looking thing) and it was so sensitive that the helicopter started moving all over the freaking place as I struggled to control it.
It freaked me out, so I asked him to take over and he took us over a helipad carved into the middle of a forest with a narrow buffer zone. I was amazed with how gentle the landing was and the level of control he had over the copter.
Next he demonstrated a full-throttle take off and we zoomed back into the air. Then, after attempting to hover, he demonstrated autorotation, which is like emergency training, where he cut the engine and let the helicopter just glide down until it rested to a stop. Apparently it's because the air flow keeps the top rotors moving enough to keep you from plummeting to the ground like you'd expect.
The views were amazing. We could see the Philly skyline and the buildings from Atlantic City.
The 30 minute demonstration flew by and we were heading back before I knew it.
"We're alive!" I thought as we landed. The experience was amazing, totally worth it and it made me feel great to be alive instead of worrying about turning 30.
Although I think I'm going to surrender my dream of becoming a commercial helicopter pilot. Instead, I'll just be happy with the occasional helicopter ride.
FROM BUZZFEED: 30 Signs You're Turning 30