This was originally intended as a reply to MX's callous assumption
that ATP's look down on Private Pilots... But on further reflection, I
would actually like to break it out as a separate topic.

After a particularly beautiful X-country-for-the-hell-of-it this
weekend, I was filling out my log when I realized that I have now been
flying for exactly one year.

In that one year in the pilot's seat, I've seen beauty that defies
description... The Bay Area and Golden Gate Bridge Bathed in the
Auburn light of sunset... fog spilling over the peninsula mountains
into the bay like water... The Yosemite Valley in all of its glory,
shimmering in a late afternoon sun. The thrill of looking down a
runway (both on short final and takeoff roll), the pride that comes
from fighting a particularly gusty crosswind down to the numbers and
contacting the ground with two gentle 'tweet-tweets' of a perfectly
executed flare... Each of these (and countless others) experiences in
and of itself makes all of the expense, time and frustration worth
it.

But these in and of themselves do not scratch the surface.

In my year in the clouds, the most beautiful thing in aviation has
been simple - the camaraderie. Soon after starting flying, I did a
cross country with my instructor to a random little airport in the
central valley. While there at the FBO, I saw a cheesy poster on the
wall "There are no strangers in aviation, only friends who haven't met
yet". At the time I had the typical 'heh, that's lame' response of an
outsider. A year later my cynicism has washed away.

Be it the 744 crew who invited me on the flight deck and explained
some of the nuances of European vs American ATC procedures (when I
questioned them about 'Radar Identify'), or the A320 captain who spent
20 minutes during a ground delay explaining the systems and avionics
of his bird and how they compared to my Pa-28-140 (The type he learned
in). Be it the random stranger at Georgetown Airpark who invited me
over to have a hamburger and soda with him and his family during a
quick fuel stop, to the Mooney Pilot and A&P who helped me trouble
shoot a bad Mag and get my engine started at a quiet airfield near
Yosemite so I could get home in time for dinner... I could go on ad
infinitum...

This is not to say that all is roses, or that the aviation world is
perfect... Not everyone is friendly, not everyone are friends...
However, within aviation, it has been my experience that warmth and
friendship is the rule, not the exception. What an odd concept in our
cold, crowded, modern existence.

And I feel privileged and honored to be a part of it.

Thank you all.

-Scott