Find your mountain

My wife and I were camping with nine Boy Scouts on day two of a 50-mile Appalachian Trail hike. Our goal was to finish 50 miles in five days, and we were setting out for the third day with a 10-mile hike. After breaking down the tent and our camp, we hoisted our 50-pound backpacks and set off on the trail. Karin later noticed that every morning started with a steep uphill hike. It was now the middle of summer, and we were at an elevation of 3,000 to 5,000 feet, hiking rugged terrain, drinking filtered water from the streams.

The trails were often only three-feet wide with a sheer mountain ascending to our left and a deadly cliff falling to our right. We were told these were Native American trails from years gone by. We prepared ourselves for the hike by reading Bill Bryson’s book A Walk in the Woods. He talked of what to do when encountering a bear. We were supposed to walk backwards away from the bear. But with a sheer cliff to the left and the right of us I could only think we would have to back all the way down the mountain! Although we smelled the musky scent of a bear, we never came face to face with one.

Each day we hiked up the trail, Karin set the pace for our group. She and I both wore brimmed hats and carried a walking stick and as I walked, I could only see her legs from the knees to her feet while she ascended the rocky terrain ahead of us. When she tired, she would plant her walking pole in the ground and bend over, breathing heavily to catch her breath. I would walk headlong right up into her rear end. In those days there were young girls who would wear sweatpants with something written on the seat of their pants, such as PINK, or CHEER. After a few days of stumbling into Karin’s stationary backside, I told her “I need to put a stop sign on your butt!” We successfully completed our 50-mile hike in just four days, completing 17 miles on the fourth and final day. It was a great adventure for our family, but I remember the sensation of following her up the mountain.

As we go through life, we all have mountains to climb. I realize now that initially I was following my childhood friend, Larry Leonard, up his mountain as we went through high school. Larry is a great life-long friend of mine, born just across the street from me, in July 1962. He was an excellent athlete and self-confident in everything he did. He was a state champion swimmer and an acrobatic athlete, able to perform amazing feats on the trampoline and cliff diving off the rocky ledges of Lake Travis, west of Austin. I was his tagalong. I was happy to be in his company, but I never ascended to his feats of physicality. I allowed myself to live in his shadow.

Aviation has influenced my life in so many positive ways. I grew up shy and lacking self-confidence, but aviation changed me for the better.When I was 16 years old, I decided to take flying lessons and pursue my dream of becoming a pilot. Each lesson gave me more confidence as I overcame the challenges that Mother Nature threw at me. I gained self-confidence in what I was able to accomplish in an airplane and at the thought of pleasing my instructor, Richard Lovell. I was growing to be my own person. I faced gusty winds or set out on a cross-country flight, navigating visually from town to town. Accomplishing those feats as a 17-year-old started to increase my self-esteem. Aviation became my mountain.

By the time I was 18, I earned my private pilot certificate in the week before setting off to college. I was no longer following Larry up his mountain but now was climbing my own. I joined the Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC) at the University of Texas and took up leadership roles during each of the four years of college. At field training camp I became a recognized leader and by my senior year in college became the commander of the Cadet Corps. My confidence in my abilities grew by leaps and bounds and it was only because I chose to pursue my own path and not follow somebody else up their mountain.

Prior to every takeoff, pilots announce to the tower that they are “ready for takeoff.” The systems have been checked and the pilot is mentally prepared for whatever control comes next. Psychologists know that some children benefit from equine therapy, interacting with horses to help them break out of their shell and gain self-confidence. I benefited from “aviation therapy.” Aviation has influenced my life in so many positive ways. I grew up shy and lacking self-confidence, but aviation changed me for the better.

Completing a challenging instrument approach in bad weather or leading an Air Force crew on international missions to austere locations bolstered my self-confidence and decisiveness. I came out of my shell to become a “people person,” happily talking to anyone, anywhere. Karin even remarked that I was now the “social butterfly” of our marriage.

According to Maslow’s well-known “Hierarchy of Needs,” humans are motivated by five needs: physiological (food and clothing), safety (job security), love and belonging (friendship), esteem (respect, status, recognition), and self-actualization (the desire to become the most one can be). My flying career fulfilled these needs. I moved beyond my childhood friends and set out on a career my fighter-pilot uncle had enjoyed. I persevered from my days beginning as a bomber navigator to realizing my dream of becoming an Air Force pilot. I now belonged to a fraternity of aviators, providing both friendship, recognition, and respect. Once selected to be an Andrews AFB Gulfstream pilot, I was surrounded by like-minded, highly professional pilots, whose main goal was the perfect execution of a smooth flight in support of our very important passengers in Washington, D.C. We wanted to be the best we could possibly be.

Through aviation, I learned to make decisions, some of which could have life-or-death consequences. I scared myself a few times, but truly believe that I embody the slogan, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” The life lessons I learned through aviation made me ready to take off into adulthood and a successful military career.

No matter your role in life, find your mountain and begin the climb.

David Dale is a retired U.S. Air Force lieutenant colonel, previously serving as an instructor/evaluator in both the KC-10 and Gulfstream G-V (military C-37A). He is the author of an aviation memoir, Ready For Takeoff: Stories from an Air Force Pilot. He is currently a captain for Southwest Airlines and lives in the Texas Hill Country.