My first day as a newly minted co-pilot in a Hawker 700 jet was exciting and early on not what I expected. The weather was clear and a million. Positive ions in the air. Wind right down the runway. Passengers on board, lined up, we were going to San Francisco. We rolled down the runway and away we went. We climbed like only a Hawker 700 could climb with full fuel and passengers. Slowly. It took about an hour to get to flight level 360. Or so it seemed.
Once at flight level, we were headed south from the Pacific Northwest. We finished with all the checks. We settled into the two-hour flight. I did what I thought I was supposed to do, made a radio call, then looked over at my captain. He was a nice guy, military background with many hours in the airplane. He had taken me under his wing and trained me to be the upright, upstanding right seat co-pilot of a mid-sized jet. I looked at him.
