Introducing. . .

Cheryl and I found out Wednesday that we're having a little girl! Here she is. . . already sucking her thumb. You can also click here to see a short video I posted of her on YouTube. I'm completely smitten with this little angel.

It's Time for an Update. . .

I'm humbly honored to share with you all how blessed I've been by the relationship I've shared with my wife for the past eight years, even when I've been blinded to the significance it's had in nurturing me to become who I am. This short video chronicles our journey, from when we started dating early in 2000 to now, and serves as a long-overdue update. Thanks for watching and as a side note, don't miss the end. . .

Seven Years

A little more than seven years ago, Fern and I packed my car and set out for the journey of a lifetime. Armed with about three hundred bucks each, no cell phones, and thousands of mileposts ahead of us we left for Big Sky Country - the great state of Montana. We look back now and wonder what in the world we were doing. To be so far from home with nothing more than roadside payphones in a car with over a hundred and fifty thousand miles experience seems a little foolish. However, we've concluded that the youthful, free-spirited and adventure-seeking mindsets that we had as young men lent the opportunity to see a much bigger world than we knew existed. What began as a road trip became one of the most life-changing experiences of our lives.

'We're on our way back home now, we haven't said a lot.
For what we brought back with us wasn't what we bought.'

Recently, as we were hanging out on the back porch one night, we discovered ourselves longing for that experience again. But why? There were a lot of questions and very few answers. Maybe we were looking for something that we'd lost. Was it the music? I suppose that was some of it. Maybe it was even an attempt to suppress any feelings that come with growing up of a lack of freedom to actually do those kinds of things. So were we looking for that experience again so that we could be assured that it was still okay to be youthful and adventuresome? I suppose that could have been some of it too. Hell, maybe we were just looking for the sake of looking. Regardless, we decided that night that we'd give in and satisfy the urge for a new quest.

Well, the first thing we had to do was ask permission from Cheryl and Ginger. Okay, that's definitely different from seven years ago. But it should come as no surprise that these two wonderful women agreed to let us loose for a few days. Next, we had to decide where to go. We both have roots in Texas so that was an easy decision. Finally, we had to drag out the palm pilots and pocket calendars and try to work time in each of our schedules to make this trip happen. Yes, another major difference from seven years ago. We didn't have two weeks like the last time; we had four and a half days! So what can you do in four and a half days? Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but Fern and I can pack in quite a bit of adventure in a pretty short time. And that's exactly what we did.

Twelve hundred miles; a few beers and a few cigars; the Alamo and the Riverwalk; visits with one granny, two in-laws, and two Crocketts; a 'gig' at a cowboy church; a Taco Stand, a Taco Bueno, a Chili's, a Rudy's, one Hard Rock, and one Blue Rock; and finally another twelve hundred miles.

Amazingly, we found a couple of hours on Saturday to slow down - in fact, for those few hours, it felt as if time was standing still. We visited our old friend, Billy Crockett, and his wife Dodee at their home near Wimberley, TX. We caught up, swapped stories over a pot of coffee, and shared some music with each other. It was so wonderful to hear Billy play and sing - what a gifted poet, songwriter, and musician. It's an honor to call one of the greatest musical influences in my life a friend.

I guess Fern and I are still sorting out the feelings and emotions of the trip, looking for what it may or may not have meant. I think we both realize that a reconnection happened - a reconnection to the road, the music, and an old friend. It was amazing how comfortable that all felt. And that first taste of Blue Rock is still fresh in my mind. It was a 'pre'connection to a taste I know I will want again. Whatever the meaning behind it all, it brings one thought into light and beckons a tough question. A seven year span of time and music was brought full circle this past weekend. What an incredible journey! But here's the question: does a full circle constitute a conclusion, a closed ring of history? Or does it signal the need for another lap that's run harder with more experience? I don't know. And without that answer, this conversation must continue.

http://www.bluerocktexas.com/

Overlooking the hill country of central Texas at Blue Rock

Playing at the Cowboy Church of Travis County

Thirty

I'll admit it. It's been a little harder than I thought. The tears are drying and I've managed to swallow the lump in my throat though. I'm coming to grips with the fact that my twenties are over. My 'somewhat older' friends have assured me that their thirties have been far better for them and I'm hoping to find the same. I mean, I don't feel any older but my knees and back aren't exactly confirming 'youth' in the morning either. I know that aging doesn't happen overnight, but perhaps I'm listening to my knees and back more since my birthday. 'Oh, so what you've been trying to tell me, even before now, is that I'm getting older, eh?' And they answer confidently with a few cracks and pops. Well, I am what I am. Now my 'even older' friends right now are smiling and thinking, 'What a jackass! Thirty?! Give me a break!' So, here's a toast to that sentiment. I'm moving forward now and looking to the bright side of life's midday.

Alright, whistling to that tune I'll confess that I am getting to experience so many neat things lately. A couple of weekends ago, I flew Cheryl and a friend of ours to Texas to see some family. It was so cool to be flying along, look down, and see the Mississippi River passing below. Then, to sit down that evening for dinner with family that we always wish we could see more often. . . . wow. It was such a good visit. And let's not forget to mention the bbq! Okay, thirty is not too bad so far.

The Mighty Mississippi

From Left - Granddaddy Nolden, Cheryl, Granny Nolden, Aaron (Cheryl's brother), me, and Mike Stap, our friend from Falcon.

Florida

It's been a fun couple of days. I agreed to co-pilot for a friend who was flying down to the Ft. Lauderdale area and was given the opportunity to extend an invitation to another good friend, Caleb, to ride along. So the three of us set off yesterday morning for Miami. I mean, how much fun is that? Three buddies heading off into the clouds for the ocean.

We stopped on our way down in St. Augustine, FL for fuel. An let me tell you, all the training I did recently on my instrument rating was well worth the investment. As we approached the airport, we were told by air traffic control to expect vectors for an approach that would send us about ten miles out over the ocean before a turn back towards a landing. Sounds exciting right? Well, as luck would have it, we were in the clouds and couldn't see a thing. We headed out as directed and after a while began a turn back as we were descending. Still, nothing. Then, just like when you wake after a dream and are finally able to distinguish the clarity of reality from the fog of the subconscious, the clouds opened up and unveiled an ocean sharply lined with an incredible shoreline ahead. And just beyond that, there it was - a very welcoming mile long stretch of concrete to land on. This picture shows the view as the runway in the distance became visible.

Below shows our view of the Florida coast in the distance as we headed out over the ocean on our way down to Pompano Beach after our fuel stop.


And as always, our good (and sane) friend, Caleb. I think the altitude affected him.

Speaking of Caleb, I think he must have thought we had a lavatory on board. When he realized we didn't, I guess he became a little anxious about no 'potty' breaks. And you know what anxiety does to Caleb? It makes him have to pee. Well, he held it as long as he could before he finally warned us up front not to turn around for a minute. And yes, if you know Caleb, you know the rest. He filled up an empty bottle he had and took it home as his souvenir from Florida. Gee Caleb, thanks for the memories? Anyway, now the rest of you understand the picture above.

Fun times. . . .

Name Change for the Blog?

This is unbelievable. The commute from Peachtree City to Cherryville seems to have grown longer recently. In fact, the last time I did it, it took slightly over five hours – two hours in Atlanta traffic and a three-hour ride home thereafter. I knew when I decided to do this that it would take its toll, but I guess I didn’t really realize what the toll would be. It makes it hard to have much of a life at home (or in Georgia for that matter) when you have to ‘prioritize’ trips so that they’re worth the time and gas they take. A round trip is eight to ten hours (depending on how amiable Atlanta decides to be) and five hundred miles. I’ve been feeling torn lately between fewer trips home and trying to get closer to home.

Well good news, good news! I found out Wednesday that I am being moved over to Athens to finish out my commercial license. It’s also where I’ve been assigned to instruct. And get this – Falcon Aviation is allowing me to go ahead and move into the instructors’ apartments so only one move will be required. This will be home for the next seven to eight months. I move in this weekend and begin there Monday. It’s about a two and a half hour drive – much closer to home. I know it breaks some of your hearts to see me bid farewell to the barn, but you should know, the barn will always be with me – I’ll be lucky to get the stink off me.

Athens is the one place I’ve always said I didn’t live long enough. It’s a great town with a lot to offer. And need I mention the tacos?

Here’s a little side note to my good friend Brad Huss: You called about four weeks ago now so just sit tight. I should be calling you back in about one more week. Love you man!

¿Viva Las Vegas?

That's right. We actually took a week-long vacation this year. It was the first time we've done that since 2002 when we went to Alaska. We've always enjoyed the three- or four-day excursions (it made us feel like we got more vacation in a year), but it was time for a whole week getaway. We took eight days and spent time in Las Vegas, northern Arizona, and southern Utah.

I'm headed back to Atlanta this morning so I'll post more about the trip when I get back. For now, here are a couple of pictures.

We stayed at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas At the Grand Canyon. . .

I Passed

I realize I've been 'flying under the radar' now for a couple of weeks. And I am sorry to those of you who've asked me to update this blog but I assure you I've had good reason. Instrument training has become very intense and the preparation for the instrument checkride has taken its toll on any free time I might have enjoyed. But it is with great excitement and sheer exhaustion that I get to tell you that I flew to Auburn, AL, today to do this checkride I've been working toward and passed. Both the orals and the flight portion went smooth and I left Auburn this evening with a new pilot's license. I can't tell you what a huge relief I feel right now as I write this. I'm so tired and yet so pumped with adrenaline.

The next phase of fight training, the multi-engine rating, begins tomorrow. The great thing about moving on is that now, at least for a while, I actually get to look out the window again when I fly. Woo-hoo.

Below are two pictures. The first was taken during the actual flight portion by a friend riding along in the backseat. Gary Kitely, the FAA examiner, is in the right seat and I'm the confused one in the left seat. The second picture is the traditional 'I passed' picture you take in front of the plane with the examiner or instructor. Mr. Kitely is handing me my new license in the picture.

So anyway, again I'm sorry it's been a while since the last post. It does make me feel good when those of you who check this call me and say, "Hey, why don't you keep up? We want to know what's going on!" I really appreciate it - it just reminds me that I have great circle of family and friends that do care what I'm doing. Thanks to you all. . . .

Hurry Up and Wait

Well, I'm getting a good introduction to life in the aviation industry. This is four or five days in a row of cancelled flights. I feel like I'm just sitting here wasting time but there's nothing I can do about it. Two delays a pilot can't help are weather and mechanical delays. And I've had both this week. So I'm just sitting here watching the clouds build up and darken the sky. Rain and clouds are okay -- even good when you're working on your instrument rating -- but thunderstorms are not good. Lightning is always associated with thunderstorms, hence the name. And lightning is not a good environment for flight. So, I'll wait.

My instrument checkride has been scheduled for September 12. Although I feel like I'll be ready, I know it'll still be tough as nails. The gentleman who is doing it for me lives in Auburn, AL so I'll fly down there for it. It starts with the oral exam. Anything in the book is fair game. It could last anywhere from an hour up to three (at least those are some of the horror stories I've heard). And if that goes well, we'll hop in the plane and go for a ride. He'll be looking for a demonstration of my proficiency in instrument flight -- my ability to fly in instrument conditions, to stay focused, and to handle unexpected surprises and emergencies (i.e. instrument failures). Once it's over, I'll fly back to Georgia, go to my barn, and celebrate with a beer.

They say the pilot's motto is 'Hurry up and wait.' Well, here I am. Four hours from home, waiting. It actually brings a disappointed grin to my face. Wow, its amazing, the things guys who were born to fly will do. . . . .

I Guess I Can Dance

Sorry it’s been a few days. It's been very busy here the last week or so. Remember? I asked for it and now I have it. I won't bore you all with every detail but I was hitting my first wall this past week. It's that phase of training when it seems like you can't do anything right. You're confused, lost, and downright irritated with everything that isn't crisp. Flying is a lot like dancing. First, you learn each of the steps. You work to master each one individually. But it's not until you begin to put them all together in the appropriate environment (that is to say, to music) that it really becomes the art it was intended to be. Well, the steps are confusing to me out of context. We did precision approaches. We did non-precision approaches. We did the communications with our good friends at Atlanta Approach Control. We did holds. We tracked VORs. And we did it all, of course, blind to the outside of the cockpit. And each victory, fewer and farther between, seemed to be so short-lived. Right after I nailed the ILS approach into some random airport, the celebration was quickly stifled as I called up Atlanta Approach and said, "Asheville Approach, Diamond 246 Delta Charlie is climbing through 2500 for 4000." Wait!! Damn, they're not Asheville! I'm an idiot! And the controller certainly confirmed that in his response to me. But all that to say, this was during the time I was seeing each step out of context. Then came yesterday. We sat at the end of the runway in Peachtree City, ready to go. I called up Atlanta Approach and received the IFR clearance I'd filed for shortly before. We took off and the controller cleared us direct to Auburn. After tracking inbound to Auburn, the controller came on and gave us a set of directions and then cleared us for the ILS approach. I read back the instructions and began the descent. This steady and rhythmic approach would hopefully lead to the opportunity for a great landing. Two hundred feet off the ground, I raised my foggles and boom, there it was. Like a giant concrete carpet laid out in front of me, the runway stretched out straight ahead with perfection. It was a great instrument approach to landing. And then, just like that, we were off again. I called Atlanta back up and told them we were ready for our next leg to Newnan, GA. And so on and so on. You see what happened? Art. All of a sudden, I could hear the music and the dance ensued. It all made sense in context. I couldn't see a thing with my eyes, yet I was seeing a portrait of perfection unveiled right in front of me as all the pieces came together. And let me say, it was beautiful. I didn’t feel like I knew what I was doing – I did know what I was doing. Well anyway, all this to say that things are really beginning to come together in training. I’m really beginning to enjoy the challenge of each flight, knowing each day I become more and more equipped to handle it.

Some of you have been asking for some more pictures -- here you go.

This is the view from my new office, my new desk, and Claudia, my instructor.

Fixation 101

It was really hard leaving yesterday to come back to Georgia. Cheryl and I celebrated our 6th anniversary over the weekend. Wow, can you believe it? Six years and she still puts up with me. And in spite of the long distance marriage I've forced on us, she's managed to find the strength to be an encouragement to me when I am able to make it home. You all knew it would take someone special and it does.

It was 5:30am when the alarm started nudging me back to consciousness. I fought it like hell - at least until 5:45 when my better judgement took over and reminded me that I shouldn't run late to something I want to do - and flying ranks up there with the likes of golf and fishing. So I crawled off the futon and began getting ready. When I walked out to leave, I noticed something I've rarely seen in my life - a sunrise. Now, I saw a few in college with my good buddies Fern and Caleb at the end of great evening, but nowadays, most sunrises start without me. So I hopped in the dew-covered Focus, impressed that I might be normal and headed off to the airport. I even carefully selected appropriate music as not to ruin this beautiful moment I'd stumbled on. Then, about ten minutes into the drive my cell phone rings. I look at the caller id and see that it's my instructor. 'Uh oh,' I think. She informs me that the weather is below minimums for flight and that we have to postpone our flight until later this afternoon. Just like the needle skidding off a vinyl record and the ensuing screech, all of my morning majesty halted in an instant. All of a sudden my attitude morphed into 'I got my ass out of bed while it was still dark for nothing!' What I had failed to notice in all of the pride I had for getting up was that the car was indeed covered in dew, that I had to turn my fog lights on, and that, still, I could hardly make out the road I was driving on for all the fog. My 'beautiful moment' clouded my ability to make the connection that poor driving conditions might mean poor flying conditions too. But I have to admit. It was not in vain. This sunrise did not start without me; and now it was right in front of me as I drove back east to the barn. I also learned an interesting lesson. As I 'fixated' on the morning unfolding in front of me, I neglected to notice some of those other important things aforementioned. Now, you've waited patiently for the point. As I sat in class tonight after a long day, the instructor began talking about 'fixation' in the cockpit. It's deadly. Fixating on one situation, gauge, etc. can cause a pilot to neglect some other very important things. And history and its statistics have proven that it has and will kill. Is there irony here in what I experienced this morning and what the instructor came tonight prepared to speak about? I don't think it's irony at all.

Now, I'm here for several reasons - but none more important than the fact that I'm supposed to be. This seems to be constantly evidenced in the lessons I'm learning - and not in the ones being presented in class. God has His way of showing that He's very much a part of this whole learning experience - even when I fail to notice.

Dream Ingredients

You can take on any endeavor with all the confidence in the world and still, you will always have that shadow of doubt in the back of your mind causing you to ask yourself, 'Can I really do this?' Today was quite the challenge. Three hours of hood time with air as bumpy as the back 40 coupled with 100 degree heat (cooled to a nice 90 degrees or so at altitude). Two and a half hours in I'm asking myself what in the hell I've gotten myself into. Starting to feel the nausea I was warned about, I'm not believing that I, the one whose stomach has learned to handle just about anything, am beginning to feel a little crappy. Am I really cut out for this? And then, right at the moment I realize the minutes on my stomach are numbered, she says it. "Okay Jeremy, everything looks great. Now lets do some stalls." Now I know I have family and friends reading this so I won't dictate the thought that went through my head, but you can imagine. Stalls when you can see are one thing. But when you can't see out of the plane and you stall a plane, you brain doesn't get warning of the impending stall from your eyes. You know its coming but your body doesn't. And then it happens - you stall and your stomach bounces off your nasal cavity and then tries to exit through your ass. Ahhhh, the joy of instrument flight training. But I quickly shrugg off the unsettling moment when I think to myself, 'You know, Jeremy, you could be printing off a bank contract, getting ready to sell that smelly family their first new Focus. And all Grandma wants is to make sure it has a cupholder for her spit cup.' And then I'm back to the reason I came here to follow this dream. Nausea and all, this is a pretty incredible thing to get to do. And then at the end of the day, Claudia says, "Well, you're doing great. You're flying the DA40 like you've been flying it a long time." That was almost all the encouragement I needed to hear. The rest came at dinner when my fortune cookie told me that if I believed in myself, I WOULD succeed. Isn't that the stuff real dreams are made of?



One last note: several of you have asked about what I'm flying so here's a picture of it. It's an incredible flying machine. The Diamond DA40 -

Good News, Bad News

I found out today that I was being reassigned to a new flight instructor. This is a good thing. Her name is Claudia and she is one of the most respected flight instructors here. This was done because of the program pace that I've requested. I need someone that can fly a couple of times a day and therefore isn't bogged down with several other students. I told her that I wanted to be done with instrument by the end of the month and on to commercial by September. She smiled as though to say, 'bring it on.' Here's the bad news. She did what I asked and scheduled the hell out of me for the next few weeks - twice a day in the air and a ton of ground work. I have my written exam at the end of next week and haven't even cracked a book. Got pace? I do. Some more good news: we're beginning right with the sweet flying. I'll spend the next few weeks in the Diamond DA40 with the G1000 glass panel cockpit - just like the big boys. No more steam gauges. This may be like Spanish to friends or family who really could care less, but it'd be like taking your driving test at 16 years old in a Ferrari. This is a picture of the cockpit I'm referring to. And its a really good thing this panel is pretty to look at since I won't be able to look out the window - I'll be flying by these instruments alone. Well, I asked for it to be intense and it most certainly already is. That's what I'm here for. Bust ass and get it done.

The Race Begins. . .

This is a better day yet - I found Peachtree City's Taco Bell.

I'm going up later today to start training under the hood for my instrument. There will be no seeing out the window for about a month. That sucks. I spoke with my new instructor a bit ago and let him know that I intended to schedule the hell out of him for the next few months. He said he was just excited to have a non-international student and told me he'd fly with me 4 times a day if I could handle it. Sounds like a challenge to me. . . . So here we go - off to the airport for some flying.

My Barn Away From Home

Well, here we go. Post #1. I'm here now in Peachtree City and its been a pretty good first day. 'Indoc' day as its known at the school - a lot of paperwork, a lot of meeting new people, and a whole lot of confusion. First flight went fine - Atlanta smog makes the view nonexistent but I just didn't care today - I was home in the air. There were a lot of maneuvers we did in the Diamond that would have been challenging even if I were already familiar with a stick and rudder - so add that new dimension and it was especially uncomfortable. Slow flight, constant rate turns, and all the other boring review stuff - all in a new cockpit and a new beehive airspace. But I have to say - it all started to come back quickly and the new feel of the stick began to feel a little more natural by the end. All three landing were nice - center stripe with plenty of runway to go. I can't wait to do it again tomorrow. Alright, now on to the more interesting stuff - my barn. Its great. Here are a few pics of my new palace:

The Grand Entrance

Mine is the first stall on the left

Some of my roommates

My Living room, my dining room, my bedroom, my bathroom, my closet, and my office.

. . . and my new backyard.

All in all, this is going to be pretty okay. I found the airport, I found WalMart, and I FINALLY found free high speed internet! Now if I can just find something to clear up the symptoms of homesickness. I'll work on that tomorrow.