While we're on the subject of Antony Woodward's writings,
here's an article of his which I think captures some of the joys of flying very well.
It ends with this:
But what is the most important thing? Because flying has such disarmingly specific minimum proficiency requirements do things right, I live; do them wrong, I dont a flight that I return from safely is a perfect, unarguable parcel of proof of being in control and on top of things. It is not an impression. For the time I am flying, I am in control; I have to be.
However out of control the rest of my life seems and frequently it seems very out of control indeed flying has the soothing effect of demonstrating that not everything is as out of control as I might think. The effect, ironically, is to earth and ground me, to make me feel real. It is this, more than anything, which makes the afterglow so incomparable. "I am convinced that a judicious participation in aeroplaning provides a man with a fine mental tonic" wrote the great British pioneer aviator Claude Grahame-White in 1911. "I hear people very often talking about 'Brain Fag'. Businessmen, too, complain very often that they want a change and need 'bucking up'. I already foresee that, in future, flying will come to be regarded as one of the greatest health givers. It will not be long, in my opinion, before doctors tell ailing men to go in for a course of aviation."
Single-engine flying in Britain is frustrating at the best of times. The flying I do, in an open cockpit, is simultaneously slow and tiring, uncomfortable and inconvenient. As a method of getting from A to B, it is less efficient than a car, and probably less efficient than a bicycle. But as a way of taking me away from the nagging uncertainties of life, that single engine even if it is a misfiring 500 cc two-stroke pinched from a Snowmobile is a highly effective mode of transport.