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Outside Magazine, May 2004
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Aerial Maneuvers (cont.)

ON THE LAST DAY of class, I fly a cross-country loop. Out over a sea of red sand dunes, I skim just above one butte after another, eventually arcing left and following the silvery Virgin River back to the landing field.

It's supposed to be the end of the course, but I can't get enough. I want to go up just one more time.

It is early evening when I lift off; long purple shadows streak the scarlet desert. I head off in a direction I've never gone before and fly higher than I've ever flown—1,000, 2,000, 3,000 feet. From this height I can see the gentle curve of the earth. From this height the magnificence of landscape overwhelms the minuscule marks of humankind. Up here, there is only open sky and unspoiled earth. It's a perspective so holistic that every human should have the opportunity to experience it.

At 3,500 feet AGL I shut down the engine. The empty silence surrounds me. I am alone in space. Only the faint flutter of the nylon wing above me can be heard. I've spent much of my ascent looking down; now I look up and out and am shocked to find I'm not alone. From out of a clear blue sky, a bird: Flying beside me is a juvenile bald eagle. For unknown reasons, perhaps just youthful curiosity, the eagle is escorting me through the warm welkin.

We are parallel, so close to each other I can see the animal's feathers tremble. The eagle twists its head, looks me in the eye, and turns its regal beak back into the wind.
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