After constantly practicing how to fly the Boeing 737, and how to use all the technology inside of its cockpit, I took it upon myself to just have a little fun in my all time favorite plane, the
Supermarine Spitfire Mk IX! This gal is fast and agile for a World War II Piston Engined aircraft, and has been my favorite plane since I was just a little kid watching movies such as
The Battle of Britain. All my life I have never been able to get enough of the Spitfire, and one day during the summer I found a
download for
Microsoft Flight Simulator X to fly this amazing bird.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnhk6i6O0LwBPMpWv4-5KZuEJBwyW0JHhYQKT4Y-0Esi8QJUlvHOKx767KBUAWD_Kkyml4HVUmLg2-AsZ4DFore8wgb5x0ogs_Qo9VONVoqrgjwlP9M-s4-goeN84ypoMRhJOsUbyEhbo/s320/2010-10-27_2-53-3-547.BMP) |
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth |
I know this isn't a part of my training as my blog intends, but I wanted to share with the readers (which I guess is really just Jeff) how I came to love flying airplanes as much as I do, and the multitude of photos I took should help explain this. I am personally a lover of flying fast and low, a fighter jock if you will. And you'll get a taste of this from the images that I took in the two scenarios, one just flying on a gorgeous day, the other above and in the midst of very thick fog. My landing in the second was atrocious but that's because I wanted to nab a shot of it for you guys. I hope you like it, cause I know I certainly did.
While looking at the images of my Spitfire among the clouds, this poem came to mind, please think of it as you go through the pictures:
High Flight
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Olk8ovEYBt23i5xCBu1pQ0SJzYZKq-5J42BZBBnKFJ7xI8LMT9igLha4b3GEcnVXSFpLr1ihYdNch9uZTxSg0EIYF5paVewhNgSvarZQzE3iatHOmHTEJq_w0XcNLTxqpGdfc4oq7YGy/s200/spitfire.jpg) |
John Gillespie Magee, Jr's Spitfire |