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  <dc:title> snarfed.org  </dc:title>
  <dc:description> draw group stream of consciousness </dc:description>
  <dc:creator> Ryan Barrett &lt;snarfed at ryanb dot org&gt; </dc:creator>
  <dc:language> en </dc:language>
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  <dc:rights> Copyright 2002-2007 Ryan Barrett </dc:rights>
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<rdf:Description rdf:about="http://snarfed.org/space/2004-07-21">
  <dc:title> 2004-07-21 </dc:title>
  <dc:creator> Ryan Barrett &lt;snarfed at ryanb dot org&gt; </dc:creator>
  <dc:date> 2004-07-21T04:00:00Z </dc:date>
  <dc:language> en </dc:language>
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  <dc:rights> Copyright 2002-2007 Ryan Barrett </dc:rights>

  <content>
    <h3>Flying to Lunch</h3>

<p><a href="/gallery/Flying Lunch"><img src="/gallery/Flying Lunch/thumbs/shamayn_sanjay_ed_plane.jpg" alt="Flying Lunch/thumbs/shamayn_sanjay_ed_plane.jpg" title="" /></a>
<a href="/gallery/Flying Lunch"><img src="/gallery/Flying Lunch/thumbs/ryan_sanjay_cockpit.jpg" alt="Flying Lunch/thumbs/ryan_sanjay_cockpit.jpg" title="" /></a>
<a href="/gallery/Flying Lunch"><img src="/gallery/Flying Lunch/thumbs/half_moon_bay2.jpg" alt="Flying Lunch/thumbs/half_moon_bay2.jpg" title="" /></a></p>

<p><a href="/gallery/Flying Lunch">More pictures...</a></p>

<p>A few days ago, I went with some co-workers to <a href="http://www.half-moon-bay.ca.us/">Half Moon
Bay</a> to take a long, leisurely lunch. Well, at
least some parts were leisurely. Others were pretty exciting, since we made the
trip by plane!</p>

<p>One of my co-workers has been taking flying lessons, and he recently got his
pilot's license. His father was also a pilot, and generouly loaned him a plane,
a gleaming yellow <a href="http://www.aerofiles.com/grumm-co.html">Grumman</a>, for a few
months. It's a great plane, and it fit right in with most of the other planes at
<a href="http://www.paloaltoairport.org/">Palo Alto Airport</a>. Most were small,
single-engine prop planes, but they ranged from WW2-era fighters to private
jets, all in great condition.</p>

<p>Once we strapped ourselves in, we were struck by the vast array of dials and
knobs and meters on the control panel. We put on headsets, grinned at each
other, and chattered with the control tower and the planes on the runway, Up in
the air, it was a beatiful day, and we could see the entire peninsula, from the
bay to the ocean and from San Francisco to San Jose. We followed the creeks in
the salt flats, cruised over <a href="http://www.stanford.edu/">Stanford</a> and the biking
trials in the hills, and buzzed <a href="http://www.zpub.com/un/un-le.html">Larry
Ellison</a>'s house way up in
Woodside.</p>

<p><a href="/gallery/Flying Lunch"><img src="/gallery/Flying Lunch/thumbs/control_panel.jpg" alt="Flying Lunch/thumbs/control_panel.jpg" title="" /></a>
<a href="/gallery/Flying Lunch"><img src="/gallery/Flying Lunch/thumbs/south.jpg" alt="Flying Lunch/thumbs/south.jpg" title="" /></a>
<a href="/gallery/Flying Lunch"><img src="/gallery/Flying Lunch/thumbs/clouds.jpg" alt="Flying Lunch/thumbs/clouds.jpg" title="" /></a></p>

<p>More than anything, I was surprised by the physical feeling of the flight. On a
modern commercial airline, you're pretty well shielded from the flying part. You
get in a long, narrow room, it bumps around a little, you wait a while, it bumps
around some more, and you get off in a new place.</p>

<p>This time, though, we <em>knew</em> we were flying. We couldn't escape the feeling if
we tried. We felt every updraft, every thermal gust, and every wobble of the
wings. Roller-coasters can't come close to the visceral rush when he banked the
wings, gunned the throttle, and dove hundreds of feet in a few seconds. It was
amazing.</p>

<p>After lunch, we flew out over the ocean for a few minutes before heading back to
work. Cruising over a bank of clouds, no land for miles, staring into the sun
and the brilliant blue beyond, I understood why dreaming about flying is such a
Psych 101 cliche. Actually doing it was exhilarating.</p>

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