Standing apron-side a few weeks ago, watching a J230 I was about to take for a spin around the South Burnett, I got to chatting with a mum who was at the field in support of her son, all of 16 years of age taking flying lessons.
He was running through a few circuits with my trusty CFI and mum and I were talking about the fact that her son was in the aircraft taking a lesson immediately before I started my first lesson, when he failed to plan for the worst and ate a wonderful Brumby's pie pre lesson...which he brought up mid lesson. We joked about the junior flight instructor getting out the aircraft with a worried look on his face crying that it was his first student to reverse gear in his aircraft and how a piece may have gone into his mouth...anyway that's another story for another time. Stay with me.
I told her that I was extremely apprehensive about getting in after he fogged the left hand seat window with a potato pie, but then commented and congratulated her on her efforts in cleaning up the mess and leaving no trace, be it odor or residue behind, enabling me to take flight also on my quest to pilot status, free of wafts and sights of the sickly kind.
Anyways, I could tell that she was proud of him for getting this far and I reinforced to her how she should be proud of him, for sticking with it and doing so well given that a lot of teenage kids achievements these days relate to far sinister activities. She was chuffed and then we both looked over, to see said CFI hop out of said J230, then start walking over to where we were standing, while J230 backtracked 16 YKRY for circuit...CFIless
"What's he doing?", she said.
I said, "Well, it looks like he's going solo. This is awesome, your son is going to fly on his own!"
"Oh." she said.
I remember looking at the expression on her face and that's when the reality and human component of this whole thing we love doing, came home. She was excited, nervous, apprehensive and downright terrified all at once. It was what I envisaged we all would have looked like the moment we rotated on our first solo and slipped the bounds of earth alone.
The point of the story, and yes there is one...is that the CFI came over and mum asked the question, "How do you know they are ready?"
The reply came straight away, "I ask myself if they are ready to take one of my family members for a fly."
After a nice landing with a lofty flair courtesy of my CFI's 75kg (his estimate, not mine) reduction in weight aboard, a J230 gave taxxied, called clear all runways and gave birth to a smiling young pilot. CFI, mum and I looked at each other and grinned at what we just witnessed. Here was a 16 y/o male in command of a +$100,000 machine putting a lot of theory and practical skill into reality.
It doesn't get any better than that!