“The aircraft was old, filthy, smelled like a dusty old farm truck, and instilled zero confidence in its ability to keep my instructor and I safely in the sky. My instructor was the human version of this aircraft. Crotchety, grumpy, smelled of stale cigarette smoke was NOT impressed that my name was Amelia Earhart. I remember feeling very out of place at the airport, clueless, awkward, in the way. We did a pre-flight inspection on the plane, my instructor helped me buckle myself into the left seat of the Cessna 172 and we were off.”