Ifthere was one thing that could have washed me out of my eventually successful journey to my private pilot’s license, it would have been spin training. If you’ll allow me to anthropomorphise the manoeuvre, it was a formidable enemy who took a couple of cracks at getting the better of me. It almost did.

Spinzilla's first attempt on my life was in 1977 at Vacaville, California, back when there was an airport with a glider school there. Dad and I trained right up to solo over a couple of weeks one hot summer. That whole story is another story for another day.

Spin training in the Schweizer SGS 2–33 is a stately affair. At least I say that looking back on it from the distance of five decades. At the time, I’ll admit to being utterly petrified when my patient instructors, Roy, Al and Ed tippy-toed up to full spins with their slightly kinder, gentler cousin, the incipient spin. When that first break finally came, and the nose coyly pitched down while simultaneously swooning to the left or right, it felt like I would never stop falling all the way down to Lake Berryessa, 50,000 feet below.

I somehow managed to make it right up to full spins, but it might as well have been with my eyes closed. Under that kind of stress, I seemed to go into a kind of grey out where not much was getting in or out. One time, I remember the instructor putting his hands on my shoulders, which were up around my ears with anxiety. That helped.

I got through it. I’m not sure how, but I did. I soloed a few days later. Almost immediately, I had to give it up entirely, my flying career severely curtailed by my self-employed lawn cutter’s salary. The only benefit to that employment was that it left plenty of free time in which to think I’d rather be flying, as the bumper stickers say. Inwardly, I was thankful I would at least not have to further endure that demented, untethered Tilt-A-Whirl® in the sky.

Spinzilla’s second attempt to break me came many years later. It was a similar experience, except it was in Calgary in Cessna 152s flying out of Calgary International with Calgary Flight. My great instructor, Don, sensed my fear and dealt with it in a variety of creative ways. Ultimately, though, his formula was what the kids now refer to as ‘putting in the reps’. Just keep doing them — spins, that is — no matter what.

Don was right: he knew what I did not at that point. Just keep on keeping on, and eventually the paralysing terror will subside. However, there were many times I was almost sick. Not air sick, which was never a thing with me, but sick with dread driving to the airport and thinking how easy it would be just to turn around and give up.

In the last part of my training, I remember not ‘greying out’ with fear as I had in the Vacaville days. In fact, my most vivid recollection was looking what felt like straight down through the windshield of the 152 onto the snowy prairie below. I also remember seeing a car on an arrow-straight section road as it rotated in my field of view. “I wonder what kind of car that is,” I thought. Spins had almost become routine. But they would never quite be that.

For reasons neither interesting nor relevant, my flying career was again cut short not long after I earned my licence. However, the evil Spinzilla taught me a lesson which has served me well in every aspect of my generally earthbound life: no matter how difficult or scary something might be, with persistence and practice, you can get through it and succeed. Spinzilla, if not yet dispatched, had at least been chased back into its cave to await a future sequel.

For those who might also be considering ‘turning the car around’ like I did, I humbly, and with the greatest respect, offer three words of advice:

Just keep going.

I’man insomniac. Well, that’s not entirely true. However, I do like to fall asleep in front of the TV until the wee hours, even though my alarm is set to 5 a.m. on weekdays. My theory: it’s better to sleep deeply for four hours than restlessly for eight.2

The net effect of these deranged sleep habits is they align my schedule with when Turner Classic Movies and similar stations show old movies quite often having an aviation-related themes. I wrote about The Spirit of St. Louis back in the July, 2024 issue.3 If you still haven’t seen Spirit, by all means set the PVR to record it next time ’round.

However, there are a few other titles that are PVR-worthy in my opinion or, if you like to do it up old school, worth watching in real time in the middle of the night when stumbled upon while channel surfing.

Recently I watched A Gathering of Eagles4 starring most notably Rock Hudson. I’ll resist the temptation to do a full review — I likely don’t have the talent for that, in any case. However, what alone makes it worth tracking down is the stock footage of Strategic Air Command flight operations which are interwoven with the scripted, dramatic portions of the film. It’s when SAC was just emerging from the primordial ooze of the post-war period and into the Cold War era. Y’know, the good old days when things were a little more black and white while being presented in Eastman COLOR.

The second feature on my completely incomplete list is the 1953 version The War of the Worlds5 with Gene Barry and a seemingly endless cast of screaming and fleeing extras. Setting aside H.G. Wells turning over at least a few times in his grave, what’s intriguing is the guest appearance of Jack Northrop’s YB–49 flying wing. It’s pressed into service to drop an atomic bomb, of course, on the Martians. What’s stunning is how modern and efficient the YB–49 still looks to an audience watching seventy-two years later.

Finally, at least for this ‘edition’ of Reel Aviation, is a movie which, for the most part, eschews the dazzling stock footage in pursuit of some deeper understanding of character. In particular, Amy Johnson, one who I have made no secret of her place on my very short list of personal aviation heroes. The specific movie to which I’m referring is Wings and the Woman6 with Anna Neagle in the title role. What’s surprising to me, with a movie of this vintage, is how well it deals with the complicated parts of Amy’s life — and there were plenty. It’s nuanced and sensitive moviemaking about a person who really deserves it.

It makes me wonder just how long it’s going to take before Tom Hanks, Glen Powell or Tom Cruise, for example, apply their prodigious talent to Amy’s whole, remarkable life.7 It’s a movie which almost makes itself.

In the latter part of this past month, Bluesky rolled out its ‘blue check’ verification scheme. If you just had a cold chill run up your spine, raise the hairs on the back of your neck, and then tap dance on your temples, it’s because it’s basically the same blue check mark issued by that other social media site. Yes, the blue check mark of the The Great Blue Check Fiasco fame.

Now with the meme-worthy history of that debacle, along with the hilarious fake accounts created in its wake, it’s surprising to me that Bluesky wants to go down this same road. Not just because of the utterly bad karma associated with it and, no, not because it’s somewhat redundant to the ‘domain’ verification scheme that has been working just fine to this point. Rather, I have a fundamental problem because it betrays a state of mind on behalf of Bluesky that I find disturbing to say the least.

It seems Bluesky suddenly cares most about the « authentic and notable » which, whatever they mean, are their words taken straight from their announcement. That leaves us — those who are slugging it out one day at a time, handcrafting one post at a time, doing our collective best to produce quality content — on the outside looking in. Frankly, I think we all deserve better. It almost makes me regret putting Bluesky at the centre of BluFly's marketing strategy.

I have a theory the underlying impetus for this unfortunate turn of events is the influence of Bluesky’s investors — yes, the platform does have investors — trying to move it in direction where the terrain is familiar so they can suggest familiar ways of monetising the platform enroute to earning a Silicon Valley-scale return on their money. However, that’s pure speculation on my part. Forget that I said anything about it, will you?

When I got over my white-hot, apoplectic rage dismay at this development, I penned Bluesky Blue Check Blues8 to make my case in as rational and measured a manner as I was able. If you’re interested in the subject,I would be honoured and humbled if you follow the footnote and give it a read.

That’s it from me for now. Have any thoughts on May you would like to share? Or perhaps you have a recommendation for Reel Aviation or your own story about spin training? Please let me know.9 Thank you so much for reading and also for engaging with BluFly’s posts on Bluesky and LinkedIn.10 I always love hearing from each and every one of you. Until next month …

Fair winds and blue skies.

Terence C. Gannon
Managing Editor

This is what we managed to put together for you for the month of May, with most recent at the top:

Note that the embedded posts above are from the Bluesky 🛩️ Custom Feed 11 which is the reference feed for BluFly. Check out said feed if you want to see whatelse we posted about this month.