Why I Fly

By Leonardo Correa Luna, EAA 1110997

Photo Credit: Leonardo Correa Luna

This is something I wrote the other day while sitting in my 170 after shutting down the engine.

Today was such a perfect flight. I flew from Fleming, Minnesota, back to Poplar Grove, Illinois. Perfectly smooth all the way. Low and slow, never higher than 1,000 feet. Finally, no smoke, the sky was blue! Real blue, not pale-smokey blue! The fields were beautifully green, with farmers working on their crops. 

I landed for cheap fuel at Rushford, Minnesota (55Y). It’s the cutest tiny airport I have ever seen — the FBO is basically a house, cozy and clean. A cow was mooing next to the airport, as if inviting me to stay; I wanted to pop my tent and stay for the night.

After getting airborne, I quickly crossed the Mississippi, and it was like entering into another dimension. Such a beautiful landscape! Small hills, bluffs, perfectly round trees like the ones kids draw. This used to be an area of glaciers that created this unique landscape, just gorgeous! 

I kept flying east with the sun going down behind me. From time to time I would do a 360 to enjoy the sunset; I watched something like ten sunsets like that. The greens started to change to yellows, shadows became longer, and the red paint of the barns glowed like fire. 

Window open, elbow outside resting on the door, great blues music on my headset. My Hawaiian Hula girl was falling asleep with the smoothness of the Continental O-300; the weight of my left foot on the rudder pedal was all I needed to keep the ball centered, just enough pressure to compensate for the drag of having the window open. 

I made it to Poplar Grove exactly after sunset, made a quick overhead approach, landing with a greaser as the moon was going up. Today I welcomed the 20-knots headwind, I didn’t want the flight to end.

This is why I fly.

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