These are his unit, then being maintained in the punishing temperature of the ramp, he bragged about the inherent security of the aircraft, its volume to remain aloft for much time, its speed and height which produced the remote planet pass by beneath him nearly unnoticed. He talked of his airplane's integrated security characteristics which permitted him to stay out of harm's way while traversing the sky. He talked in glowing phrases about his airplane's gauge-studded cockpit, each switch, bell and whistle fitted to offer him reassurance in the unforgiving atmosphere. He mentioned the all weather convenience of his aircraft, and he bragged about how many ways he can speak with experts on the ground through numerous receivers, with numerous frequencies at his fingertips, all installed to cover any possible emergency. He continued to talk in animated style about the system of navigational products, radar, air traffic controllers at his beck and call, and the ease of knowing he always had, only an arm's size out, yet another pilot in the cockpit, an individual who could straight back him up if and when things made sporty, or simply to spell him if he grew weary. Not too he'd require that, along with his automation prepared at the show of a switch. "You see," he said. "I've every intention of expiring in my sleep at age learn more about the helicopters ."
"I do want to go to the helipad every day and terry the machine on their area, understanding there is an attachment between us, and that the feel is important. I wish to gas it myself, understanding every decline of move juice gets into, and it's the correct material, not half water, or sissy fuel. I wish to check always it over myself, and make sure the elements continue to be there, at the least the large ones. I do want to strike the beginning, and draw in the stink of using jet energy, their glorious aroma sticking with my skin like aftershave. I do want to lift the combined, have the skitter of the skids as the device gets light, and then feel it come to life under me. I do want to pull message, and sense the imminence of the main one control that pieces people besides whatever you set wing guys--the power to by Lord hover! There's no sensation want it in depends upon, and even when I'd never done it, I'd still skip it.
"I want to remove each morning mist, slither through scud that stays to my windscreen and drips on my cyclic stick'cause there exists a leak in the greenhouse overhead. I want to soar across cornfields at 90 knots, spreading pets and hens as I move, while stroking in the loamy aroma of new supplied greenery that seeps into my cockpit. I wish to careen through hill moves at fifty feet above soil, checking the leaves of walnut and hemlock woods as they whip about in my own rotorwash, laughing with goats and elk while they salute me in their way as I go them by. Then I'll land and grab the divisions and twigs out of my skids.
"I wish to sail near waterfalls, sensation the air turn relax within their moist existence out my door, and nip the lower of clouds with my knives, simply to see the swirls and whorls I've made, and I don't treatment what the authorities say. I want to see brother eagle up ahead, gradual my craft nearly to a hover, the same as him, and travel formation down the fellow's wing, see him nod, acknowledging our fraternity, and then watch him flip his wings and leap as we part business till next time. I do want to excitement a player in his area, and trend at his young ones straddling his tractor, and provide them with ideas of probably breaking free of the area and flying sometime, too.