Dreaming Upside Down

I don’t remember half the stuff I dream about, maybe less. I suspect you are the same way, unless of course, you are one of the crazy types that keeps paper near the bed in an event of an emergency. When I wake up from a great dream, I like to savor the memory, then go back to sleep. If it’s a bad one, I enjoy realizing it was fake and closing my eyes again. (It’s always pleasant to find out that I’m not going to jail or getting divorced.)

I recently enjoyed the most vivid dream that I can’t get past. I cannot let it go unwritten because it was that enjoyable. I was in an airplane. I don’t know what I was flying, only that it was a low to mid-wing of a silver color. I would speculate on make or model, but that won’t mean anything to you if you are not a fan or caught up in your knowledge of winged machines. I was flying alone in the front seat, a bubble canopy above me affording me a great view in all directions. Even though I could not see the backseat, I remember having the sense that it was there, sitting empty.

There is no recollection of the takeoff. I came into the dream while flying straight along at what I would guess to be around four thousand feet above the ground. My plan was to do a steep climbing turn to the right. I had no choice. I had a keen awareness that I was strapped into a machine who viewed the sky as its playground. And so I did. Full power, stick back, nose went up, then I slid the stick hard to the right. This dream machine was of a higher performance and therefore, more responsive than I was used to. She went right okay. However, she went too far to the right. Without trying, she rolled completely inverted and stayed there. That was not part of my plan, but there I was, staring at the ground above my head and wondering what to do. I have never intentionally (or unintentionally) done such a thing with an aircraft while flying solo. I have ridden along while experienced aerobatic pilots took me for a roller-coaster flight through the sky. Those prior experiences probably saved me from freaking out as I found myself upside down and alone in an unfamiliar airplane.

It is very strange, when I look back, that I did not feel a sense of dread. I recall two distinct thoughts:  I wished my dad was with me, so he could holler some advice through the headset as how to remedy the situation. I also clearly remember thinking that I have never been afraid of death. Just because my feet are not are on solid ground, my thoughts should not be any different. I didn’t think I was going to die because I had the advantage of height. Lots of stuff could transpire between now and when I actually touched the ground again. It would be interesting for me to see how things turned out. I remember feeling unusually relaxed.

The airplane was only her back for less than ten seconds when I came up with a plan that seemed to make the most sense to me. I reduced the power to idle, removed my feet from the rudder pedals and let go of the stick. I was going to let it up to the airplane to figure out a plan of action. I would watch and hope for the best.

It did not take long for the nose to drop to the earth, a sudden victim of gravity. I can still see the ground coming from above my head to having a splendid view of it directly in front of the nose. As we went, I looked all around, at the left wing and the right. In front of me and above, I savored it all. The whoosh of the wind as it went from quiet to loud- that was some great music. Anybody can take an airplane ride from point to point. Real flying happens when the ground is visible in places most people (or passengers) would think it shouldn’t be. 

I could hardly feel any G-forces as the nose slowly rose from vertical to a much more normal horizontal. I felt relief, and pushed my right foot on the right rudder pedal. The nose yawed as it should have, a sure sign the airplane was ready for me to have control again. I smiled as I thought that was the most fun I ever had because of something I did accidentally. In waking retrospect, I find it odd that the airplane returned to straight and level. I would think under normal circumstances some back pressure would be required on the stick to correct the dive towards the ground. Perhaps that’s just how the airplane was trimmed.  However, this was a dream and happy things tend to happen when you least expect them.  I put my hand on the stick, pushed the throttle forward, and that is the last I recall of the dream. It was a happy experience.

That trip in the night made me think about why I hold such affection for airplanes. You can put a car into a skid, and you will have to work through it to recover or risk an accident. Humans we care about fall out of good order in their life, and we have to vocalize our worries with them and rely on hope and prayer for things to get better. The simple act of turning a puppy into a dog can be a real pain-in-the-ass.  Airplanes? You can upset them as I did in my dream, take your hands off them, and they will usually remedy the situation all by themselves. Certain restrictions apply: Height is invaluable. Had I climbed high and to the right and found myself inverted a few hundred feet from the ground, I might have woken up screaming. I also had the good luck to be dreaming in daylight. I’ve read plenty of stories in aviation books and magazines. There are definitely some airplanes among us that require constant pilot input and attention. They can be difficult. Then again, so can some women. (Not that I know any. I’ve simply heard stories about them too. Really.)

My dream reaffirms my desire to get some aerobatic flight instruction.  I’m going to need it someday anyway when I get to own the airplanes I want, not to mention that it would be very beneficial in the event of an “accidental” upset in what I fly now. This is the first time I ever felt compelled to write notes on a dream. I always thought that when we come up with something that we desire, we dream about it while working to obtain it. The movies we see during our slumber can work the other way too. I have flown inverted by myself, now I want to do it while I am awake, sweet dream indeed.  

(My thanks to my friend and air show performer Jerry Wells. He gave me a roller coaster ride in a Super Chipmunk (in light rain no less) and that is where I snapped the picture shown at the top of this page.)