Poems and Thoughts    by Frank Maurer

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Flying X. The Flight to Nowhere Have you ever headed out, knowingly, to the middle of nowhere? I had contemplated a flight to Block Island, RI, A few hours from my departure place of Ithaca, NY, While a zoology major at Cornell University (1966). This was dead reckoning from mainland RI, To Block Island, a small spot of land some 30 to 50 minutes offshore. I had never done this before; flying over the sea--no land in sight. Three other grad students eagerly agreed to accompany me on the flight. All went well across the terrestrial mapped area, until the Atlantic. I checked my gas, held my breath, and took a heading towards our tiny destination. With luck and no irregularities, the lovely island came into sight. We landed, made arrangements for the evening, And had a gentle and friendly repast, followed by our overnight. The next morning we took in some sights And I somewhat nervously checked the weather, which was closing in. My companions were oblivious to the weather needs for our return, But I continually checked for a break in our low overcast situation. The moment came and I suggested we scramble to the plane. Up we rose into a broken cloud cover with afternoon sun accenting our surroundings. Up at several thousand feet, I felt relief in our potential accomplishment. All seemed well until I smelled smoke and my heart basically stopped. Turning to my passengers, I related my despair, Until it was discovered that Gloria, one of the passengers, Had lit up a cigarette!! My fear was gone, but I sternly instructed that such an act should not be repeated. At dusk, we arrived home in Ithaca and quietly dispersed. This was a flight I would never forget--and have not over all these years. Yet another adventure in my occasional attempt, while defying gravity. Frank Maurer 17 September 2023 1720 Hours.