Flying at the extremes of aircraft and human performance for an air show demands superhuman focus on one’s technical ability, confidence in mechanical preparation, and the ability to reach a “zone” of mental concentration that blocks out any distractions. Practicing every day allows all of this to take a back seat in the conscious mind. Once the highest level of proficiency is reached, the mind and body are turned loose in a video game fantasy of 3D thought. You don’t think about how. Your body already knows how. The normal physical constraints for the body are gone. My body adapts to the airplane so completely that the tips of the wings talk to me like fingertips running over silk. I am almost overwhelmed by the smell of carbon fibre, burnt oil, and gas. Every plane has its own smell. The engine vibrates and if anything is not right, it talks to me. My plane does not love me, though. It will kill me if I do not take this game seriously. This is not for the weekend warrior. Air show flying is for the person who has flying in his blood and exhales it with every breath. I feel sick if I can’t get my flying endorphins.
I am totally aware of the spectators. I know the numbers watching instantly from the air. I notice arm movement. I love to see rabid fans. I enjoy speaking with anyone that similarly cannot contain their excitement towards this demonstration of mind matched with machine. It is a mutual appreciation of a peculiar kind of beauty. It bonds us all together at the show. I can feel it. I can’t wait to return for another show.