Sunday service is done, and I’m at the airport awaiting my flight to a conference. I’ve forgotten how much I’ve grown to dislike the experience. Of flying, that is, not church. The lines, the wait, the crowds, the heat of a terminal giving in to those with lesser desire for cool comfort of 63 degrees, or lower.
Anyway. Flying is not for me. No more. I’m not in control of anything unless I spend a mild fortune to upgrade. Even then, I’m not in control.
Don’t get me wrong. I love to go. But at my own comfort level.
I’m a people watcher, so I watch my fellow travelers and the workers who make it possible. I’m sitting in a lounge, with floor to ceiling windows, and enjoying the planes as they takeoff, land, and taxi.
Give me a moment. I’ve changed seats. I’m at a table closer to the windows and it’s definitely 10 degrees cooler. The table rocks, and the chairs are still uncomfortable, but at least the sweat is dripping less.
Delta. Southwest. Delta. United. Air Canada. It’s a domestic terminal so the distance is less than around the world, but the skies are open and pilots are waiting to plough a trail through the friendly skies.
Where I live, about 60 miles from here, many of these flights glided to this airport over my house. I think they are easily 10,000 feet above me, but I can see them turn their landing lights on, and hear the pressure change as they slow down, and realize someone is relieved to be near their destination.
Billions of dollars just a few feet in front of the glass, and in the terminal I’m sitting in. Planes are taking off and landing on one of the three runways before me…
- Runway #1 16L/34R – 11,901 feet.
- Runway #2 16C/34C – 9,426 feet.
- Runway #3 16R/34L – 8,500 feet.
If you can understand the numbers, roughly, runways are north and south, 160 degrees or 340 degrees on the reciprocal. They are labeled appropriately as Left, Center, and Right. Their distance is recorded, nearly 2 miles in length. Watching the coming and going, and the taxing process, makes me miss my days of piloting.
Back to earth. I arrive in Houston around midnight. Rental car, a hotel near the airport, and then a final short driving destination Monday morning.
The conference will be enjoyable, but at my brother’s church, I’ll run into a lot of families and friends. The conference is why I’m flying. Otherwise, if time allowed, I would just as soon drive.
Whoops! There goes Lufthansa! I’ve flown them before! He’s just taxing on to the International Terminal. It’s the biggest plane of the hour. I won’t even guess what type it is. Airbus?
I recently read there is a shortage of pilots. It used to be that many came from the military cadre of active duty recently retired. But that’s not the case. It seems they cannot train pilots fast enough to replace the aging workforce. Pilots salary isn’t as comparable to days of old, but it’s still a great gig if you enjoy the experience.
Less I think more of myself than I should, I had points to upgrade my experience to First Class. Shhh….! Seats worthy of a larger frame, and a better cabin experience with special service. Maybe the A/C is better.
Watching a number of takeoff’s I notice something. It’s about 300-400 feet between the time of the front wheel leaving the ground and the main wheels leaving earth behind. This is one of the most dangerous times of a flight. Fast. Low. Any failure and there’s no time to figure out what’s wrong before it’s too late to correct or take avoidance procedures to heart.
I’ve determined, as long as it’s cloudy and cool, sitting in front of these windows is damaging to my productivity.