I was once accused of liking planes more than people. I hope he was joking, but I'm certainly more comfortable with the former. If they go low and slow. Slow enough to see the dangling feet of a goose flying parallel. Low enough to follow a gentle wave as it glides along the glassy water of a gentle morning.

It's the best kind of high.

"Oh I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings."

Each time I feel that little pop of lift as gravity loses its grip upon takeoff, I think of that opening line of "High Flight," a poem by John Gillespie Magee. Magee, who wrote the poem on the back of a letter to his parents, was only 19 when he died flying his Spitfire in World War II.

I don't know if Magee ever flew a seaplane, but I think it inspires poetry.

"Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds, - and done a hundred things you have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung..."

And splashed.

You feel like a bird - a seagull, perhaps or better, an osprey gracefully swooping down for the fish and then popping skyward again, at an angle so half the view is water and the other half, the tree-studded mountain. Splash and go. Seaplane instruction 101 at Hayden Lake.

Flying a little plane on floats is easier than you might think. Most pilots who go for a sea rating (a.k.a. water flying) do it post-license, but needn't. At least one of local seaplane instructor Glenn Smith's students is brand new to flying, or at least to piloting. She's also new to adulthood at 18, freshly graduated from a local high school. Smith's students have spanned the decades of adulthood from youth to senior, as well as professions from commercial pilots to lawyers and housewives.

It's fun to watch, too. When the seaplane was in operation this week, swimmers and beachgoers at Honeysuckle Beach stopped, heads turned to follow the aircraft's movements like mesmerized children to the Pied Piper. Heck, seaplanes are so pretty just bobbing quietly on their floats at the dock. Like a beacon with a flashing sign, "fly me!"

No fear. Smith knows his stuff. With 13,400 hours of flight time and more than 4,000 hours of instruction experience, Smith holds the FAA's Gold Seal Instructor Rating. As you can imagine by doing the math, he's been flying most of his life.

"Most" as in starting in high school. As a junior in 1970 he took a one-year-only aviation class. It was canceled the following year when the district decided it was a liability risk.

"Been flying ever since," Smith said simply, as he pre-flighted his silver Piper Cub Super Cruiser for another lesson.

He was lucky, he says, getting his early flight lessons in with minimal cost. He was also very determined. When that ended, he worked as a paramedic for several years until he could earn his Private, Commercial, and Instrument Ratings, followed by a Flight Instructor Certificate. He's also a certified aircraft mechanic, as well as an inspector.

All bases covered. Pretty much anything you can think of as a qualification for a flight instructor and copilot, Smith has it. Been there. Done it. Not that he talks much about it.

Those who try (flying weather lasts through September) can't regret it. Seaplane flight is literally and figuratively a beautiful experience, especially in North Idaho. Getting as far as a check ride for the sea rating means flying with Smith's partner and friend, flight examiner Mike Kincaid, an equally qualified mega pilot in his own right. Regular readers may have seen Press stories about this former Alaska state trooper, stunt pilot, and bush-pilot adventure book author.

For more information about seaplane instruction see CDASeaplanes.com.

Sholeh Patrick is a columnist for the Hagadone News Network who dreams of Piper Cubs on floats. Contact her at Sholeh@cdapress.com.