When it comes to modes of transportation, flying is hardly on the top of the list for me. In fact, the last time I flew on a plane was before my second birthday, on a flight back from Washington D.C. to St. Louis (which is a 45-minute drive away from the place where I used to live). I had made two more trips between Washington D.C. and St. Louis before that.

Sine then, I had never flown in a plane, so getting to fly in a single-engine plane was definitely going to be a new experience for me.

My photographer Jordan Maurice and I got into the plane. Jordan sat in the front so he could take photos of the cockpit and the pilot. I sat in the back with a mother and her daughter.

Glen Ferguson, the pilot of the plane we were in, has been flying with Jungle Aviation and Radio Service for 27 years.

Since he was sitting in the front, Jordan was given a headset that allowed him to communicate with the pilot.

We were finally ready to take off.

“Clear!” Ferguson said.

Ferguson turned the key, and the plane engine turned on. The plane rattled so loudly I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying for the whole flight. As we started moving, Ferguson started turning a knob that was above the controls. I later found out it was the wing flap, which eases the control pressure while the pilot is flying the plane.

The plane started moving for about 20 yards and then made a 90-degree turn onto the runway. The plane then sped up after about 10 seconds. As I looked out the window, the ground kept getting farther and farther away. I started getting a little nervous. We were flying.

When Ferguson flew us to the highest level he could, I could barely make out where we were. We were 1,000 feet above the earth and 500 feet below the clouds. I must say, Ames is unrecognizable to me when I’m 1,000 feet above it.

The buildings looked like small models you would see in a musuem exhibit. A train was passing by and I could see the whole thing as it extended for what seemed like half a mile.

Maurice had told Ferguson that he would like it if he could fly us over campus and Jack Trice Stadium to get some pictures.

“We’re flying by Jack Trice Stadium,” Ferguson said.

I was astounded when he said that, because I couldn’t tell that we were near it from our vantage point. Then I looked out the window, and there I saw Jack Trice Stadium. Its vast size could really be seen from where we were.

As we flew over campus, I tried to make out the buildings. I had very little success.

Ferguson then turned the plane back to the Ames Municipal Airport for landing.

I got nervous again. Judging from what they say in the movies, landing is the hardest part.

The runway appeared as we headed toward it. There was a slight squeak as the tires touched the concrete runway.

We landed safely and I was relieved.

After getting off the plane, Maurice and I thanked Ferguson for flying us. We both felt a little weightless after our time in the air.

Flying is quite an experience, and I’m glad I got to do it. Though I was nervous at first, I felt calm and peaceful as soon as we were airborne.

Mark Twain wrote memorably about air travel in his semi-autobiographical book, “Roughing It.” A line from the book suffices to convey the experience of flight:

“The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn’t it be? — it is the same the angels breathe.”