UNUSUAL ATTITUDES FLYING Opinion
62 | SEPTMBER 2019 FLYINGMAG.COMA FLYING START...AND END
THE ART OF (CHEATING AT) AIR RACINGBy Martha LunkenS
ince competing in a local air race a
few weeks back, on the heels of the
Kentucky Derby and the Indianapolis
500, I’ve been wondering if this
fascination—this lust to compete—
is just part of our DNA. Are we
genetically programmed to pit our-
selves against each other to prove
who’s the fastest, the most cunning,
the most daring, the “best”—or maybe
the cleverest cheater? I suspect
research will eventually establish that
this obsession has roots a million or
so years ago when a Homo neander-
thalensis challenged a Homo sapiens
to a race across some frigid Eurasian
steppe. At stake was the deed to an
exceptionally warm and dry limestone
cave in the best part of town ( location,
location...). When the underdog—
the sapiens guy—won, onlookers
jumped up and down, brandished
big sticks, and grunted: “Hey, dude,
this is fun. Let’s chisel a trophy outta
that rock. We can sell T-shirts, maybe
roast a mammoth or two.”
As usual with us Homo sapiens,
things got out of hand. These days,
we’re racing more than ever: on foot;with bicycles, motorcycles, go-karts,
tractors and heavy equipment; using
cars, dog sleds and skis; and in pow-
erboats, sailboats and airplanes. If
it moves, runs, slides, f loats, rolls or
f lies, there’s a race. Even some animal
friends—dogs, horses, turtles—have
learned they can earn approval, and
treats, by racing against each other. It’s
interesting that birds, the closest thing
to airplanes, don’t race—nor do cats,
who don’t give a damn about attention
or treats...or much of anything.
I’d decided not to compete in the
recent 32nd Flying Knights Air Race.
See, it’s sponsored by some guys at
the airport who won’t invite me to
join their club. It doesn’t matter that I
wouldn’t accept—in fact, I admire the
few all-male bastions left—I just want
to be asked. But a friend gently sug-
gested I quit acting like a prima donna.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. And there’s
gotta be a way to cheat...or maybe we
can just f ly it backwards.”
So I put on my big-girl pants and
taxied my 63-year-old Cessna 180 to
the ramp, joining 14 other entrants for
registration and briefing. COURTESYMARTHA^ LUNKEN’Tis better to have placed second than
never to have flown at all...