Flying 9,500 feet above Washington County, a Cessna 182, a single engine plane, roars at around 75 mph. With four others, you sit on the floor crammed in like sweaty human sardines. The only person who has a chair is the pilot.
Suddenly, the door opens letting the wind blast in and the temperature drops to goose bump levels.
Hooked up to an instructor you met only hours ago, you put one leg out, and then the other. With adrenaline racing, he rocks you back-and-forth. This is really happening, there’s no turning back, and you have no control.