Getting stuffed into an airplane like sardines in a can.  Sweltering heat and humidity during the day with little respite at night.  Eating enough bar-b-que’d animals to cause a meat coma. Encountering more trucks than the entire population of some small countries.  Bouffant hair.  Strange looks from the country folk when driving a minivan.  Lots of NASCAR loving yahoos.  A crazy amount of turnpikes and toll roads.  Gas prices below $3.40 a gallon.  The worst B.O. ever on the cramped plane ride home.

What else could all of this be but a trip to Texas?

Texas

This weekend I completed another milestone in the flight training regimen: a cross country (50+ miles from the home airport) flight with only me at the controls of the aircraft.  I chose an airport that I had visited previously, Modesto (KMOD), and it was a pretty uneventful flight.  I didn’t get lost and I didn’t use the GPS (mostly) to find my way there.  All in all it was very straightforward.

One down, two more and a bunch of little procedural stuff to go before that private ticket is mine.