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Flying The Aviation Trilogy [Hardcover]

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  • Category: Books (Transportation)
  • Author:  Bach, Richard
  • Author:  Bach, Richard
  • ISBN-10:  0743247477
  • ISBN-10:  0743247477
  • ISBN-13:  9780743247474
  • ISBN-13:  9780743247474
  • Publisher:  Scribner
  • Publisher:  Scribner
  • Pages:  464
  • Pages:  464
  • Binding:  Hardcover
  • Binding:  Hardcover
  • Pub Date:  01-Sep-2003
  • Pub Date:  01-Sep-2003
  • SKU:  0743247477-11-MPOD
  • SKU:  0743247477-11-MPOD
  • Item ID: 100780273
  • List Price: $62.00
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Apr 07 to Apr 09
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.
Here for the first time in a single volume are three of Richard Bach's most compelling works about flight.
From his edgy days as a USAF Alert pilot above Europe in an armed F84-F Thunderstreak during the Cold War to a meander across America in a 1929 biplane, Bach explores the extreme edges of the air, his airplane, and himself in glorious writing about how it feels to climb into a machine, leave the earth, and fly.
Only a handful of writers have translated their experiences in the cockpit into books that have mesmerized generations.Chapter One

The wind tonight is from the west, down runway two eight. It pushes gently at my polka-dot scarf and makes the steel buckles of my parachute harness tinkle in the darkness. It is a cold wind, and because of it my takeoff roll will be shorter than usual and my airplane will climb more quickly than it usually does when it lifts into the sky.

Two ground crewmen work together to lift a heavy padlocked canvas bag of Top Secret documents into the nose of the airplane. It sags awkwardly into space normally occupied by contoured ammunition cans, above four oiled black machine guns, and forward of the bomb release computers. Tonight I am not a fighter pilot. I am a courier for thirty-nine pounds of paper that is of sudden urgent interest to my wing commander, and though the weather this night over Europe is already freakish and violent, I have been asked to move these pounds of paper from England into the heart of France.

In the bright beam of my flashlight, the Form One, with its inked boxes and penciled initials, tells me that the airplane is ready, that it carries only minor shortcomings of which I already know: a dent in one drop tank, an inspection of the command radio antenna is due, the ATO system is disconnected. It is hard to turn the thin pages of the Form One with gloves on, but the cold wind helps me turn them.

Form signed, gun bay door locked over the mysterious canvas bag, I climbl��
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