It's That Meridian Smell

The easiest way to put it is that I'm back. I'm back from deployment, I'm back in the Deep South and I'm back writing about life in flight school.  Except, this time, I've gone from student to instructor, inmate to warden and wide-eyed newbie to, well, wide-eyed teacher.

I drove across the country from my previous Southern California home to get here. I went North, I saw San Fran, drove through the Nevada Desert and through the Navy's training range there to Salt Lake City.  I stayed there for a night and pressed the Subaru onward to Bozeman, Montana.  I drove through the snow (after skiing through the snow) to Minneapolis, Minnesota.  From there I pushed on to Chicago and took a well needed break.  Cleveland was next, with its excellent art museum, then Nashville and after over 4,000 miles I was back in Meridian, MS.

I walked from the Sim building where I'm attending ground school over to the hangars today.  As I walked across the line, it wasn't the angry roar of the jets taking off and landing that got me, it was that familiar smell of heat and pine needles mixed with jet fuel.  I took that toxic mix into my lungs and I could feel it all coming back.  Not the frustration and stress of being a student, but the need to get back up into the sky and fly fast again.

Coming here was a good choice.  Stay tuned.