Flying
I've always loved flying...from a passengers perspective that is. My grandpa, a WWII pilot himself, always said he'd show me how once I was old enough to drive. Since he lived in Georgia, and I lived in Texas that made things a little tough.
But on my 30th birthday, I got as close as I could get to flying when Danielle arranged for a 30 minute flight in a WWII A6 trainer.
I told the pilot not to hold back, the pilot told me where the uh, motion sickness bag was and we were off. He performed barrel rolls, loops, split-S manuvers, touch and goes on a dirt runway we even got away with an attack dive on a nearby bridge. And I'm proud to say I never had to touch the emergency bag.
But don't think I could go on a ride like that without my Grandpa. Even though he was in Georgia, I had a photo of him taped to the dashboard in front of me the whole time.