There are things that your boss recommends you do that can leave you scratching your head and asking, “Why?”

That brain racking became a reality for me a couple of weeks ago, when Ken Waltz told me about a club in Union that flew model airplanes on the weekends.

At the time, thinking to myself, “Why would he want me to do a visual story on this when it’s not even sports-related, let alone get up early on a Saturday,” had me less than interested, but those feelings soon changed.

Watch video, and see more photos, below.

At least it was a beautiful day, and my wife, Meagan, decided to join me, as she does on various stories to get a glimpse of how things work and what the story is about.

We trekked to Union from Rockland, and going off of vague directions from Ken that included, “They have a little grass runway in a field just up the hill on the left from Maritime Farms in Union,” I thought we were never going to find it.

After thinking the club members had not come out to fly that particular Saturday, we found the runway with the planes littered across the grass, as well as propped up on work stations to be serviced.

Upon pulling in, I made my way over to the "tarmac" and found Greg Morse, the president of the Midcoast Radio Control Club.

The club is a part of the Academy of Model Aeronautics, which, according to its website, has nearly 2,400 clubs in the country.

Men have been flying the model airplanes on that patch of land for decades.

Morse was more than willing to talk to me on camera and tell me all about the club and the planes, which I was very grateful for, considering I showed up unannounced.

As I was interviewing him, the facts he presented about the club and the planes were spectacular, such as how each plane is made, or can be made, the materials, the fuels, etc.

Sidebar: if you watch the video (at knox.villagesoup.com) you will hear more about the planes and the club in a more "newsy" sense.

The planes were much larger than I imagined. Each one had to be an average of four to five feet long, with a wingspan of the same length. Some planes were larger than this, and others were smaller.

Morse then asked a question that made my heart skip a beat: “Would you like to fly one?”

My first reaction was “ugh,” as my brain brought up every horrendous outcome that could happen if I took the controls of one of these planes, which cost hundreds of dollars.

After agreeing, with a pit in my stomach, Morse showed my how he would get the aircraft into the air, and with a flick of a switch on his controls, switch the piloting duties into my hands.

I also was holding controls, which looked like a remote control you would use for a toy when you were younger.

This was much harder than it looked.

The slightest movement left, right, up or down on the control sticks moved the plane so much and changed the trajectory. A couple of times the plane nose-dived, and as my heart sank, the life-line that was Morse pulled me back to the surface to continue flying.

He told me that for my first time, I did better than most people he has seen, which gave me a nice shot of confidence.

After flying for around 10 minutes, matching the stick movements to the planes maneuvers became easier, just as the fuel was running low.

Morse brought the plane back in with a nice touchdown on the grass, and allowed me to reminisce about the experience.

Despite my foreboding, the experience was something I will never forget and allowed me to step outside my comfort zone.

It appears I passed this assignment with flying colors.