The wind whipped my hair sideways as I walked across the ramp to meet my instructor for the first time nearly a year ago when I started my private pilot journey. Or rather, resumed my journey. I took my first lesson at 14 and have been obsessed with airplanes from age 11 or so, when my sister and brother-in-law took me up for my first ride in their Cessna 172 to view the historic Missouri River flooding in 1993. I was hooked.
My bedroom walls were plastered with vintage airplanes and Hubble images by the time I was in high school. I subscribed to Astronomy and FLYING and devoured every science class my rural school could offer, graduating a year early, starry-eyed and dreaming I’d one day be the first person on Mars.
