Ever since the Auster came back from its exhaust repair, a hectic mix of work, life and weather have conspired to prevent me from flying it. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to rumble aloft in the old thing.  It’s funny how the things that make us happy often seem to get the lowest priority; the last on the list. Getting the whole work / life / fun balance right, can be tricky. However, today, with the distant sun, shining in a cold, but bright blue sky, I drove down to the strip to re-address that balance.

Wheeling JT out of the dimly lit hangar and into the weak warmth of the sun, that old, familiar feeling of anticipation and well-being returned to remind me why I fly. It’s often easy to forget that feeling; stop missing it even and go on to do other things. Jim and Bob were warming the engine of their microlight and I gave them a smile and a wave; a genuine smile: happy. I watched them trundle off down the strip and get airborne, climbing up into the brightness of the day, their machine’s little silhouette shrinking against the blue. I pushed the Auster down to the start of the strip and readied myself to follow them. Within moments I was sat back in the musty, battered cockpit of JT and ready to fly. I opened the throttle and the Auster bounced its way down the strip and struggled into the air. Levelling out above the frosted, muddy fields and heading north, an internal smile carried me across the familiar landscape and the previous few months of hassle and stress, slipped away like the ground below.

It is often said that flying is an expensive pass-time, but, and like many have said before me; it’s cheaper than therapy and a whole lot more fun.