Oh, I have slipped the gagging bonds of earth
and thrashed the skies on grease spattered blades;
Sunward I've climbed and tumbled in the mirth
of stormy fog banks - and done a hundred things
You would not believe - whopped and whumped
and autorotated low in the dingy overcast. Hovering there,
I've been passed by sparrows and flung my shuddering
craft through endless balls of hail.
Up, up the long, hysterical climb to 500 feet I've topped
the towering wheatfields with pounding heart -
Where grasshopper, or even June bug flew. And,
while with cold, shifty eyes I've tried the untrespassed
sanctity of Special VFR . . . put out my hand and
touched a tree. - Author unknown
"The thing is, helicopters are different from planes. An airplane by it's nature wants to fly, and if not interfered with too strongly by unusual events or by a deliberately incompetent pilot, it will fly. A helicopter does not want to fly. It is maintained in the air by a variety of forces and controls working in opposition to each other, and if there is any disturbance in this delicate balance the helicopter stops flying; immediately and disastrously. There is no such thing as a gliding helicopter."
This is why being a helicopter pilot is so different from being an airplane pilot, and why in generality, airplane pilots are open, clear-eyed, buoyant extroverts and helicopter pilots are brooding introspective anticipators of trouble. They know if something bad has not happened it is about to."
-Harry Reasoner, February 16, 1971
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