It’s been exactly one year since I first proclaimed, right here on this page, my goal:
THE HE-DOG RUN.
So given my initial self-imposed deadline of 13 years in which to begin the trip, a mere 12 years now remain for me to actually get it going.
And what have I done in a year? Not everything, not much, and not nothing.
In one sense, twelve years seems an eternity to get something done. It’s three med schools, four law schools, or one of each with two undergrads and a year to spare. But thinking back twelve years myself, I was already deep into grad school, ensconced in a New Haven-based lifestyle that would carry me into the 2010s. Point is, twelve years doesn’t seem that long ago, really. And evaluating the span of time that’s passed between last year’s introductory post and right now — which is really not much — is startling and quite poopy, too.
Time really does fly, you know, when you’re paying only sporadic attention to your self-stated single life goal. So noted, time.
In another sense, though, it’s all well underway. I’m taking instruction in a Robinson R44, with two lessons down and numbers three and four booked. And I’ve already improved markedly in my hovering, which is heartening. 
It’s all decadently expensive, of course, so I’m spacing individual lessons out as much as I can until I decide how best to approach the lion’s share. I’m studying helicopter theory, and learning quite a bit. As a graduate of an advanced quantum mechanics class many years ago, I’ll say this: Helicopter aerodynamic theory is honestly about as weird as straight Newtonian physics can get. Figuring transverse flow effect and effective translational lift from first principles with the omnipresent contribution of gyroscopic precession took me a couple minutes, for sure. I have it now, but golly. And how Sikorsky ever controlled his first helicopter without a side-seat instructor is beyond me entirely. I’m told he tethered it.
No Cobra yet, though I did quite honestly consider getting a used Superformance. I ended up instead sampling the opposite end of whatever axis speedy two-seaters sit on, getting a 1991 Sebring Silver NSX in January. I’ve been racing as much as I can: I did two SCCA double-regional race weekends at Laguna Seca in the first half of 2015, setting both a personal best time on the track and a personal best placing in the overall standings. I managed to avoid crashing the car, too, which does help. I also did the three tiers of karting school at SimRaceway Sonoma, and followed it up with two arrive-and-drive race days there. But if I’m going to make even glacial headway on flying, I’ll have to forego racing of all sorts for a while. There’s always next year.
What else? I’ve stood with the Spirit of Texas (the first helicopter to circumnavigate the globe, in 1982), and subsequently turned over some ideas as to my own route (which devolved all too easily into shopping for high-end handmade globes). Current thinking is, after the NY to LA drive, I’ll fly back across the States before starting an eastbound-and-north circumnavigation.
Any friend unfortunate enough to be living near my eventual route — which could include anyone almost anywhere, at this point — can expect to wield a cowbell and find themselves a waypoint.
I’ve also been squired about Manhattan in a Bell 206L, which was terrific, and I’ve been buzzing a toy heli around my office. I’ve visited the Hiller Aviation Museum to see some interesting helicopters. I’ve spent some time investigating various trainings, most recently HUET (helicopter underwater egress training), which seems like the single least pleasant way to spend a day, and among the most useful. (I’m trying to book one now.) That of course led to browsing spare-air devices (which I had for SCUBA), and slick integrated flotation and MOLLE aircrew vests. At least I’m good at online shopping. Oh, and I got a Robinson Helicopter hat. Progress takes many forms.
One year down, twelve — at most — to go.