It’s that time of year again. That last bit of winter when those of us here in Texas that have waited all year for our snow days (aka when one to two inches of ice shut down an entire city) finally get them. All of that frigid, blistering wind finally made something wonderful. This year, it came in the form of two snow days back to back! Two full days of fireside board games and news updates of tractor-trailers navigating steep overpasses punctuated by puppies pouncing through frozen precipitation.
And now, since “the skies are not cloudy all day” our final morning of snowflakes has shifted into a midday of sunshine. By this evening all of the ice and snow will be a distant memory and I will have to shed off the “Can’t I just stay home in my sweatpants?” feeling that is incumbent to every winter. With freezing weather, I have put my focus on ground school. I’m in the middle of a course right now with Embry-Riddle.
All was progressing at a comfortable pace until just recently. Now key factors in my flight training feel like they are rotating together like cogs in a wheel, putting pressure on me to act. A few days ago I got a message that the local airplane club is not extending it’s student rate for those that join after February. Yikes! That gives me three days to join. There’s also a scholarship I was planning on applying for with a deadline in mid March. We’re also entering into our brief break between too cold to safely fly and tornado season in this part of Texas.The time is now if I’m going to get my private’s license before our move to Oregon as economically savvy as possible. I’m 36.3 flight hours away from FAA requirements to sit for my private and the pressure is on.
If this were a movie, this would be the beginning of the montage scene. Cut to me mechanically handing over hundred dollar bills, fade in a giant clock in the background with hands made of planes. Zoom into one of the plane clock hands and there’s my instructor teaching me how to correct spins in the driving rain…ok, perhaps that’s a bit much for someone without an instrument rating, but you get the picture.
Wish me luck, it’s go time!