Amber 29

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Amber and I fly down for the first night of our vacation.
11.8k words
4.21
1.8k
4

Part 29 of the 37 part series

Updated 06/03/2024
Created 02/09/2024
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Friday had finally arrived. Prior to this week, with the stress of building a house and the stifling heat of summer, Amber and I had been in a bit of a rut. To try to regain some of the passion that we had, until recently, enjoyed, I'd come up with the idea for taking Monday off and making a long weekend for a quick trip down to the Keys. Just the idea of a weekend getaway had been enough to reignite things between us. But, today would hopefully set things permanently on the right track.

Having not used my pilot's license in over a year, I had gone earlier in the week for a long refresher flight, where I not only knocked off the rust but also fulfilled all the requirements to become fully current. As far as passion goes, that evening of flying had definitely reignited my love for flying.

Having already packed our bags the night before, Amber and I awoke and got ready for work. With the knowledge that we would be setting off in the afternoon on our little adventure, neither of us had any problem getting ready that morning. Thankfully, things were pretty slow at the office and, the day before, our boss told us we could just leave at lunch and not worry about putting in for any time off. So with that, Amber and I got dressed in our typical Friday attire of jeans and a polo shirt.

If my flight earlier in the week did anything, it was to remind me just how hot it can get in the summer in un-air-conditioned Cessna 172. With that in mind, Amber and I planned to swing by the apartment after work, change really quick and then head to the airport.

After grabbing some coffee and a quick breakfast, we set off for the office. Once there, despite having things to keep myself busy, time seemed to absolutely crawl by. Every time I glanced down at the clock, I was disappointed to see that only half of the time I expected had elapsed. After putting the final touches on a set of plans that I'd been working on all week, submitted them and then pulled up the weather for our flight. Seeing that nothing but clear skies and calm winds were forecasted throughout the day, I sat there and just stared at the clock, trying to look busy

A moment later, I heard a voice behind me. Turning around, I saw Janet, our boss, talking to Amber in her cubicle. I couldn't make out a thing they were saying but after they were done, I saw Amber's face light up and she started collecting her things. Janet then stuck her head in my cubicle and said, "On first glance, those plans look good. I'll go through them in more detail this afternoon; but for now, I've got nothing for you. Have a good weekend."

After I thanked her, she headed back to her office. In her place, Amber was standing there holding her purse with a big smile on her face. I quickly logged out and shut my computer down. Grabbing my things, I shoved them in my pockets and we headed out. After getting into the car, Amber just looked at me with an excited smile and said, "This is going to be so fun. Let's go."

With a little laugh at seeing her exuberance, I backed out of the spot and we were off. On the way to the apartment, I suggested grabbing something for lunch. Amber just shrugged and said, "Let's go get changed and grab our bags first. We can get something when we head back through town."

Seeing nothing wrong with that plan, we made the short drive back to our apartment. When we parked in our usual spot, Amber got out to head for the door. Following behind, I couldn't help but share her excitement for the weekend ahead of us.

Walking into the cool and dark apartment, we made our way back to the bedroom. There, Amber grabbed a stack of clothes that she had already set aside and went into the bathroom. While she took care of her business and got changed, I stripped down to my underwear. Rummaging through the dresser, I found a pair of lightweight khaki-colored shorts and a staple of my summer wardrobe, a white fishing shirt. Although it was long-sleeved, the wicking material was cooler and more comfortable than a cotton t-shirt.

With Amber still in the bathroom, I opened my flight bag. After ensuring that my iPad was fully charged, I added my extra headset and zipped it back up. With that and our duffel bags, I went to place them by the front door.

While I was sitting on the couch, slipping my shoes on, I looked up to see Amber walking out of the hallway. She looked absolute beautiful. She had on a light blue tank top that perfectly accentuated her large breasts and hugged her curvy waist. Below that was a pair of short, black shorts that hugged her shapely hips. Her dark hair was pulled back into a cute ponytail and her blue eyes sparkled as she walked up to me.

By the look on my face, she knew she looked good. Walking confidently up to me, she sat on my lap and gave me a long, sensual kiss. Then kissing me on my neck, she seductively said, "I could totally do you right now, but no. I want to see you do your thing. Then I'll make it up to you tonight."

As she looked at me with anticipation, I just reached around and squeezed her backside. With a chuckle, I said, "Works for me."

Amber gave me one last kiss then hopped to her feet. Seeing our bags sitting by the front door, she asked if I was ready to go. I told her that I just needed to use the bathroom and I'd be ready. After hurrying back down the hallway, I quickly took care of what I needed to. When I was done, I rejoined Amber, who was already waiting with her bag over her shoulder. Picking up my bags, I said, "Alright, you ready?"

Amber just smiled and turned for the door. After loading up the car, we got in and set off. On the way through town, we stopped and grabbed some sandwiches. Scarfing them down, we finished eating just as we turned off onto the access road. Following it around, we found a spot at the side of the FBO. When the car came to a stop, Amber looked out at the planes parked on the ramp. There was everything from humble little 152s to large corporate jets. Looking back at me with excitement in her eyes, she said, "Holy shit, this is really happening."

I just winked at her and started to get out of the car. After we retrieved our bags from the back seat, Amber looked around and asked, "So what do we do now? Is there like a security station or anything?"

With a laugh, I said, "Nope. They've got my credit card number. That's all the security they need."

Amber just looked at me nonplussed, before breaking character and laughing as I walked past her. She then followed me through the double doors into the atrium of the FBO. I went up to the counter, where a pleasant woman greeted us. After pulling up our reservation, and of course confirming my credit card number, she reached into a drawer and pulled out the black bag for our plane. Handing it across the counter, she wished us a safe trip. Just as I was taking the bag from her, I head a voice behind me saying, "¡Oye, pendejo, has regresa'o!" (Hey, asshole, you've returned!)

Turning around, I wasn't surprised to see Jose walking towards us. With a big smile, I said, "Por supuesto, cabrón. Estamos saliendo por nuestro viaje" (Of course, dickhead. We're leaving for our trip).

Laughing as we shook hands, I introduced him to Amber. After he greeted her, he looked back at me with a curious smile and asked, "So where was it you guys headed?"

I looked over at Amber and said, "We're gonna head down to Marathon for the weekend. We'll be back Monday evening."

Looking at both of us, he replied, "Shit, man. That sounds great. Have a good time."

Then looking to Amber, he jokingly said, "This guy can't fly for shit. I just did him a favor and signed his papers because he bought me dinner."

As Amber looked at him with confusion, he broke into a hearty laugh and slapped me on the shoulder. Amber looked relieved when he said, "Nah, I'm just kidding. You're in good hands."

Then shaking our hands again, he told us to have fun then headed out to where his student was waiting. As we headed back to the lounge, Amber whispered, "Yeah, he's exactly as I imagined."

I just laughed and said, "Aww, he's a good guy."

In the lounge, where a corporate pilot was resting on one of their plush leather recliners, we went to the refrigerator and grabbed a couple bottles of water. On our way out, Amber asked, "So where do we pay for this?"

I just chuckled and replied, "Oh, we're paying for it. Don't worry."

Amber followed me down the hallway. When we got to the lobby again, I looked at Amber and asked, "You ready?"

She just smiled back at me and said, "Hell yeah, let's go."

Putting on my sunglasses, we exited out onto the tarmac. With the sound of an idling Challenger corporate jet filling the air, I hollered to Amber, "Just stick close to me. Ours is right over there."

Walking down the line of tied-down planes, we arrived at the one we'd be taking for the weekend. After popping open the passenger side door, I loaded our duffel bags into the back seat and then walked around to the other side. After opening my door, we both leaned into the cabin and I gave her a quick overview of the panel that was typical of a 40-year-old 172 with the circular 'steam gauges' for the primary flight instruments. There had been, however, one useful upgrade with an older Garmin GNS 530 moving-map GPS unit in the center of the panel.

After pointing out what each instrument did, I plugged in our headsets and explained how they allowed us to communicate with each other via the intercom. That then lead me to pointing out the push-to-talk button on her yoke, which keys the mic to transmit over the coms frequency, advising her not to push it.

Finally, I showed her the throttle and mixture controls. In the 172, the throttle is a knob, which you pull out for idle and push in for power. Older aircraft still use a carburetor, and thus, the mixture knob allows us to control the fuel/air mixture at higher altitudes, where less fuel is required in thinner air. Again, I suggested she not touch the bright red mixture knob.

With the tour more or less complete, I set the plane up for pre-flight. She then followed me while I did my walk-around, where I pointed out the different control surfaces and explained what each did. When I climbed up onto the wing to check the fuel tanks, Amber called out my name. Craning my neck to turn around, I saw Amber do something I'd never seen before. She had her phone out and wanted to take a picture. I smiled then hopped down. On my way to check the other wing's tank, I asked, "What's the picture for?"

Amber just gave me a hug and said, "This is so cool; I just want something to remember it all by."

I just returned her hug and said, "Take as many as you want."

I then stood back while she walked around taking pictures of the plane. When she was done we hopped into the cabin and adjusted our seats. After showing her how the door latch worked, I then showed her how to wear her headset, with the foam-covered mic right against her lips. With all of that complete, we popped open our windows and I went through the start-up checklist and then that magical moment where I turned the key and the engine came to life.

With the refreshing airflow from the idling propeller being directed through our open windows, we waited for the electronics to boot up. After a quick test of the intercom, I explained what to expect during taxi and takeoff. Acknowledging her understand, she asked me to lean in for a selfie. After smiling for a picture, I laughed at her newfound interest in capturing moments on her camera.

Once the GPS came alive, which also controls the comms radio, I copied the current weather information, which I wrote on my knee board, a metal tablet that straps to my thigh and has a pad of paper for making notes and copying instruction from ATC. I then switched over to the ground controller, keyed the mic and got taxi instructions for a south departure along the shoreline.

With that, I turned to Amber and asked, "Ready to go?"

She just looked at me with excitement and said, "Fuck yeah."

Smiling back at her, I released the breaks; and with a slight increase to the throttle, we were rolling. Once we got to the hold-short line for the runway, I set the brakes and did a quick engine run-up to check that all of the power components were functioning properly. With that complete, I flipped the frequency over to the tower controller and got our take off clearance. After a quick peek out for any unexpected traffic, we latched our windows shut. I then switched on the landing light and rolled onto the runway centerline. After one final check of the instruments, I said, "Here we go."

Pushing in full power, the plane accelerated down the runway. Most people would be surprised to learn that a small plane like this lifts off at speeds slower than the average car on the highway. Converting knots to mph, we lifted off around 60mph. When I pulled the nose up and gently lifted off the ground, we climbed out at 80mph. As the ground fell away beneath us we were quickly climbing out over the intracoastal, the barrier islands and out over the beach. After leveling off at a modest 1,000 feet, I began a gradual turn to the south to follow the shore down south. Hearing a little laugh over the intercom, Amber then just said, "This is so fucking cool."

After adjusting the throttle for cruise flight, we settled into a respectable speed of about 120 mph. A moment later, we were leaving our home airport's airspace and the controller released us on our way.

With the perfect weather, I didn't file a flight plan. Flying under visual flight rules (VFR), we were on our own to make our way down to the Keys. When we got further south, we'd need to communicate with various airports as we cut through their airspace but for the first stretch we were free to do what we pleased. Looking over at Amber, I asked, "You wanna take the controls for a while?"

Her eyes lit up at the suggestion and she asked, "We can do that?"

I just smiled back, "Sure."

After a quick demonstration of the controls, I handed it over to Amber. As with every new pilot, she flew with a 'heavy hand,' making large inputs as the plane climbed and made a series of banks. With a laugh, she said, "This is terrifying."

I laughed and put the plane back on course. Showing her the compass and altimeter, I demonstrated how a light touch and tiny inputs could keep the plane flying straight and level. Giving her another shot, I told her to try keeping it on the same heading and altitude. Amber readily accepted the challenge. She did alright but over time, she made the mistake universal to beginners of fixating on one instrument while the other drifted away. She tried to correct it but was soon oscillating back and forth. With a frustrated but amused sigh, she said, "This shit is harder than I thought. Thanks but I'll leave the flying to you."

I just smiled and patted her on her leg and said, "Nah, you did fine. It takes some time to learn the right touch."

Retaking control of the plane, I had a newfound appreciation for everything I put my instructor through during my own training. Before long, we were approaching the Jupiter Inlet and its red lighthouse and then down towards Palm Beach. I switched over to the Palm Beach approach frequency requested not only clearance through their air space, but also flight following, a service ATC provides VFR pilots to help them switch between the various controllers, which is especially valuable in complex airspaces such as South Florida.

Amber took out her phone and marveled at the beachfront mansions that Palm Beach was so famous for. Continuing south we were cleared through the airspace of smaller airports like Boca Raton and Pompano. As we cruised down the coast, I pointed out different landmarks and Amber looked down at the sparkling blue water of the Atlantic. From this height, it was easy to make out the waves rolling onto the beach and boats out for pleasure cruises. The further south we got, the taller the high rise condos became. Each of these had perfectly manicured, elaborate pool areas; each looked like a resort.

As we neared Ft Lauderdale, a large commercial airport, the controller asked us to descend below 1,000 feet to provide spacing for the airliners departing to the east. Although we were still well above, we seemed to be skimming the waves.

Passing Ft Lauderdale, we really got to the most congested, complex airspace of our route as we neared Miami. Listening in to the approach controller at Miami, Amber turned to me and asked, "How do you understand anything they're saying? I feel like I'm listening to an auctioneer."

Just as I was about to respond, I held up my hand for Amber to hold on when I heard our tail number called out. After reading back the heading correction for oncoming traffic in the same rapid-fire pace as everyone else, I just laughed and said, "Ehh, you get used to it. Based on where you are in your flight, you can kind of anticipate the type of instructions you're going to get. Plus I'm always listening to what they're telling everyone else. You build a mental picture of what everyone is doing and it helps with being able to anticipate what they're going to tell you."

Amber just shook her head and said, "It's like it's own foreign language."

I just winked and said, "Remember? That's one of my hidden talents."

She just playfully rolled her eyes before going back to looking out the window. By now we had passed South Beach and then the shipping channel with its many cruise ships and were nearing the tip of Key Biscayne. Banking the plane to give her a better view, I pointed out the tall, white Cape Florida lighthouse.

Once we were clear of Miami's airspace, I contacted ATC and canceled our flight following. A moment later, I made a circle to the right around a true relic of old Florida. A group of abandoned, old wooden huts and small houses on stilts, out in the middle of the shallows of Biscayne Bay, referred to as Stiltsville, sat beneath us. I explained to Amber the history of them and about the wild parties that took place in this secluded refuge that was founded back in the 1930s. Unfortunately, most have been destroyed by the numerous hurricanes that have ravaged the area, but a few still remain. Amber again took some pictures and then said, "Man, I bet those were some epic parties."

I just chuckled in agreement. Soon, we had passed Biscayne Bay and had entered into the Florida Keys. As we our path curved to the west, following the string of islands southwards, Amber looked down and commented, "Holy shit, I had no idea it was this beautiful down here."

She was right; the water around the islands is incredibly shallow. As such, it appears light blue but crystal clear. We had climbed back up to 1,000 feet; but still, from such a relatively low altitude, it was easy to make out schools of fish, sharks and dolphins playing in the warm water. In addition to the pristine water, many of the islands are small, uninhabited and either sandy banks or covered in thick mangroves.

Seeing a particularly large shark, Amber said, "What the fuck! I had no idea there were so many sharks in the water."

She turned to look at me and I just shrugged before saying, "Ehh, I used to dive down here when I was in school. Most of them are either nurse or reef sharks. They won't bother you."

Looking back down out the window, Amber said, "You're damn right they won't bother me because my ass isn't going anywhere near them."

Reaching and playfully squeezing her bare thigh, I said, "That'd be a tragedy if a shark bit that ass of yours."

Amber just looked at me with a little smile and said, "Nah, you're the only one allowed to bite my ass."

I just winked at her before returning my attention to flying. Before long, we were closing in on Marathon, which sits about halfway down the string of islands. Pulling up the information on my chart, I tuned the radio to check the automated weather to figure out which runway they were using then switched over to the traffic frequency.