I keep telling myself, over and over again on the drive to the airport, "Make sure you pull the chocks." It becomes a sort of rhythm for my thinking as I get closer to the airport, a continuous spiral of fears of embarrassment. Although I have thousands of hours in airplanes, I'm still nervous because I'm about to do something I haven't done in a long time: fly a light airplane. I've already accepted that I'm not entirely sure how to start the aircraft. It's been a long time since I've sat in a small aircraft—almost three years, as a matter of fact. I haven't looked at a sectional chart, flown VFR, talked to a government weather briefer, or practiced what to do when the lone powerplant fails. I expect that I'll embarrass myself one way or the other, but at this point, I don't want to start out by driving over a set of wheel chocks. That's a bad way to start out.
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