TALISMAN

A pilot with a mug in his hand told of his last-ever flight in a hang-glider up on the White Mountains, and how it led to his career in aerospace. After watching a sailplane whisk by below him and disappear in the distance he was sucked down a ragged canyon to his death, he supposed.  Caught in that chasm between diving to regain control and slowing up to maybe survive impact, he had nowhere to turn from terror. Then at the most precise moment a charmed whirlygust enveloped his kite, all but stopping him at just the right point and for barely long enough to grab something solid and clatter to a breathless perch.His rig tumbled away in a fresh gust the moment he freed himself from it, and tore itself apart. Incredulous and scarcely even hurt, he left it there on the hill – or in the air again – and scrambled on down from the 10,000 foot level to hitchhike back in a trance.While converting to sailplanes, he also switched his college major and soon took a degree in aeronautics. Years later, he’d spent an entire winter’s evenings meticulously refinishing one wing of his second-hand supership, leaving the other wing for next year. During that summer of flying with them ‘unmatched’, I asked if he could honestly detect any difference in feel or performance between the two wings…He didn’t answer at first, then blushed and confessed, “My problem is I’m an aerodynamicist.”That's fair enough (pun untended).  Watever worx my friend!

Perfection is attained when there is no longer anything to take away.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry