In Oregon I had rediscovered flight among countless other things of which I am grateful to have been a part. From snowshoeing and skiing to running, playing dodgeball, and paintball. I had crashed my motorcycle and resurrected it. My new home had been more than just the cradle Maryland had been. In Oregon, I had thrived as a person.
Leaving behind a place I had finally begun to call home stung. It was nearly as the difficult as the time I moved west from the East Coast. After leaving my apartment and saying good bye to my friends, I threw my glider on my back and departed. The flight was twelve hours with two layovers. I landed in the dark. Even in an age of modern maps, GPS, radar, and transponders, I still tried to wrap my brain around the idea that our plane was going to land on a very small dot in a very large ocean without enough fuel to turn around should we miss our mark or any other improbable circumstance occur. I arrived in the land of perpetual summer and sat alone at the airport until my ride showed.
This video is a farewell tribute. Oregon, I shall return.
Leaving behind a place I had finally begun to call home stung. It was nearly as the difficult as the time I moved west from the East Coast. After leaving my apartment and saying good bye to my friends, I threw my glider on my back and departed. The flight was twelve hours with two layovers. I landed in the dark. Even in an age of modern maps, GPS, radar, and transponders, I still tried to wrap my brain around the idea that our plane was going to land on a very small dot in a very large ocean without enough fuel to turn around should we miss our mark or any other improbable circumstance occur. I arrived in the land of perpetual summer and sat alone at the airport until my ride showed.
This video is a farewell tribute. Oregon, I shall return.
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