I’m on of those freaks who worked for a few years before entering college. I made poor choices in utero with regard to the family I was born into and consequently have had to do everything the hard way. A few weeks before I started my freshman year in college I completed my pilots license (single engine, land).  The goal was to get a flying slot in USAF and then move into a flying career with the airlines.  My nearsightedness killed that dream deader than a rat.  Who wants to be in USAF if you can’t fly jets?  Crimony. So I went into chemistry by accident. Some would say that it has been a major accident.

Flying is an amazingly fun thing to do. In fact it is odd that more people don’t try it.  It is an adrenaline rush to taxi an aircraft onto a runway, point the nose down the centerline, and push the throttle to the firewall and fly off the ground. To have such raw, barely-contained power mashing you against the seat is a real thrill.  Once you lift off the realization dawns on you that the only way you’re going to survive this is by the skillful application of your wits.  Getting the aircraft configured for landing and rolling onto final approach and coasting down the glide slope to a touchdown on the numbers is true poetry.  It is an intellectual and emotional stimulation with which few things compare.

The fuel that piston driven aircraft use has a higher octane rating than that used by automobile engines.  The longer the stroke of the piston, the more power the engine can deliver to the propeller. But the longer the stroke, the greater the compression and the greater the need for higher octane. Consequently aromatic additives are put in Avgas to decrease the tendency for predetonation. One of those additives is is xylene.

One of the rituals of flying is the preflight walkaround of the aircraft.  You inspect the flight control surfaces, the leading edges of the prop for cracks or chips, the wing for tell-tale wrinkles, bugs in the pitot tube, and you drain a bit of the fuel from a low point in the fuel line.  You drain a fuel sample because you are looking for water droplets. Water in the fuel could lead to a loss of power during the flight, which is regarded as bad. 

During the fuel inspection, you get a whiff of the aromatic tang of avgas. It is the smell of adventure. The faint smell of avgas is in the cockpit as you strap the airplane to your backside and begin the engine start checklist. It is there during the taxi roll to the run-up pad where you try to convince yourself that the engine is operating nominally. Only after this when the task of takeoff is imminent do you ignore this smell and concentrate on the act of takeoff.

The other day I ran a reaction in the lab using xylenes. Without even realizing it I got a whiff of xylenes and my mind drifted off into the realm of flight.  For a moment I could smell the scent and hear the sound of an airplane clawing full throttle for altitude. I could rememeber trimming the airplane for cruise and dialing in the VORTAC frequencies for navigation.  I remember the dreamy sensation while cruising at 10,500 feet, listening to the Morse code of the VORTAC on the radio intruding into my consciousness over the comforting drone of the engine.  I recalled the words of my instructor- “Attitude, altitude, crosscheck…” and “keep your head on a swivel”. 

Then I realized that the solution in my sep funnel had emulsified so I set it down for a while and became lost in the memory of flight.