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One scene that springs to mind was flying down the coastal chain of barrier islands off southern Georgia. Flying in loose formation along a white ribbon of sand on Cumberland Island, we spotted what appeared to be a pack of dogs standing in the edge of the surf. As we got closer we were surprised to discover not dogs, but wild horses.

Descended from ancestors washed ashore from some Spanish shipwreck hundreds of years ago, they live and prosper on the island in spite of a lack of fresh water.

Soaring, skis, wheels, floats and the adventure of the ultimate sightseeing tour along a road that goes wherever I wish. It's like my own personal IMAX movie with me as the director. I have truly realized my childhood dreams of flight.

(continue on to the Letter To The Editor)