Just last week, I was able to fly again. My dad, Jeff, and I flew for about an hour, landing in a small, almost nonexistant airport before setting off again to Sarasota. On the way back, I was doing a few maneuvers and Jeff thought it would be cool to do some "45 degree banks". He slowed the plane down, and we proceeded to turn into a 50-60 degree roll and banked left as we both pulled up on the flight controls. It was so much fun! The G-forces pressed me into my seat as my world spun around dizzyingly, 3,000 ft below. I felt like we were made for this type of unbridled freedom, turning and twisting under the towering citadels of clouds that began just overhead. At that moment we became a living, breathing part of the plane, and any fear was replaced by pure joy.
Captains of the Sky.