I am sitting in a semi-reclined position, ensconced in a small cockpit with a bubble canopy a few inches from my head. It offers an expansive view of Chilhowee Gliderport’s bucolic surroundings, but the peaceful scene does little to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I focus on the towplane idling a hundred feet away and subconsciously wipe my sweat from the stick as Jason Arnold, who co-owns and operates the gliderport with his wife, Sarah, attaches the towline. I am intensely aware of the empty seat behind me. Sarah Arnold, my instructor, now stands to the side of the staging area, the very picture of serene calm.
I flash back to the morning of my 16th birthday, staring bug-eyed at the empty right seat of the flight school Cessna 150. “Just do what you’ve learned the last three years, and you’ll be fine,” Jerry Graham said as he climbed out. Mind you, on this first solo I’ve only had a half-day of preparation, but the principle still applies: concentrate on procedures, and the butterflies dissipate.
