It’s happened to you because it’s happened to every pilot: You wake up at 2 o’clock in the morning in a cold sweat, as the nightmare played out. You swerved while rolling out in a gusty crosswind. Suddenly you were heading toward a line of parked airplanes. You applied opposite rudder so hard you were sure that you’d put it through the firewall and turned the yoke all the way into the wind to keep the upwind wing down and take advantage of the drag of the down aileron. To your astonishment and relief, you got the airplane straightened out on the edge of the runway, missing a runway light and taxiway sign by the barest of margins.
Parade of Horribles
The nightmare presented a parade of horribles—you were still going fast; if you’d hit something the quick stop would have hurt or killed your passengers. There were people by those parked airplanes—you can vividly recall the wide “O” of their mouths and shocked eyes as they realized that you were going to hit them, and it was going to hurt. A lot. You were going to do something you had never done in your life, bend an airplane you were flying and maybe tear up others—an almost unendurable blow to your pride in the work you’d put into becoming a pilot.