Playing favorites

It was the summer of 1988 when I finally got serious.

Back then I was living in a one room apartment at 323 West 4^th Street in the Greenwich Village section of Manhattan. A third-floor walk-up that lay right in the heart of the neighborhood where Kinky Friedman’s novel, Greenwich Killing Time, took place.

On Aug. 2, I hot footed it to the subway to catch a ride. In midtown I transferred to another train, then a bus, followed by a long walk to an FBO at MacArthur Airport in Islip, Long Island. 

That’s where it started for me. The first page of my first logbook includes nine flights over a period of three months, at two different flight schools, in five aircraft types. My flight training did not involve a smooth progression by any means. Heck, my second instructional flight was a cross-country. That’s not right.

Don’t misunderstand me, however. I am perfectly happy with the way everything worked out.

Sure, progress was slow as I bounced from type to type, trying to figure out where the tach was, or why I needed to turn on a fuel boost pump before takeoff in one type, but not another. The process I undertook wasn’t elegant, efficient, or affordable. Yet, I believe it was unintentionally beneficial in the long run.

They say variety is the spice of life. I tend to agree. 

Like so many general aviation pilots, my logbooks are awash in C-152s, C-172s, and PA28s of various power ratings. I’ve enjoyed my time in those machines. I’ve even owned a few of them. They are the bread and butter of my career. Yet they are not the only machines I’ve been fortunate enough to take aloft, then alight safely back on the face of the Earth.

For me, the realization that opened my mind and my logbooks to so many new experiences was two-fold. One, it’s okay to ask another pilot if they’d like company. Second, it eventually occurred to me that I could take my required flight review in any aircraft I was certificated and rated to fly. 

Eureka! Since having that epiphany I’ve done flight reviews in singles and twins, on wheels and on floats, with taildraggers and tricycle gear. Because I can — and so can you.

You see, we don’t have to submit to a mandatory process that just replicates our day-to-day flying experience. We can turn each flight review into an adventure, a learning experience that we will remember fondly for a long time.

In one of my first strokes of great luck, there was the absolutely gorgeous Waco biplane in Meriden, Connecticut. While I was filling out a student’s logbook in the FBO lobby, I asked the owner if he would consider letting me fly with him sometime. His answer was a stern and unequivocal, “No.” That stung a bit. I wondered how I might have offended him.

Days later he waved me over as he taxied by the same building. “Jump in,” he instructed over the rumble of the engine. I climbed into the front cockpit where I got to enjoy open cockpit flying for the very first time. While in flight he explained that he didn’t want to advertise his willingness to fly passengers for a variety of reasons. But he did enjoy introducing pilots to the aircraft he loved so well. After taking the controls to guide that beast through the air for a bit, I fell in love with it, too.

My first flight in a King Air came about in a very similar manner. I simply asked if he’d like company in the right seat. The pilot said, “Sure.” Before I knew it, we were off on a one-way flight to a destination far from home. It was so worth the inconvenience of the return trip by ground transportation. 

At Meriden Markham Airport (KMMK), Bob Carlson gave me the opportunity to pilot a World War II era BT-13. The Vultee Vibrator was a joy to fly. Keeping pens and pencils well contained is important, however. If you drop one, it will skitter down between your feet to the belly some distance below your seat. You will not retrieve it without the aid of a maintenance crew.

My introduction to Cubs came at the invitation of an individual who was without a doubt the worst boss I’ve ever had. The offer was extended in an effort to impress me with how cool his toy was. Surprisingly, what started as a tedious interaction ended with a fantastic flight. 

The illustrious Jason Schappert of MzeroA fame once offered to conduct my flight review in a TECNAM twin, the P2006T. Other than the normally sweaty ground operation experience most aircraft offer in the sub-tropics of central Florida, it was an absolutely wonderful ride. In fact, I was having so much fun at the controls I forgot I was on a flight review. Jason caught me completely off-guard through good natured distraction, then failed an engine while I was rolling into a turn.

Lesson learned. Friendship intact. 

My most recent flight review was completed by the amazingly talented Tim Preston in his immaculate Boeing PT-17 Stearman. An experience I fully intend to repeat, more than once.

What I had no idea of in August 1988 is that you don’t have to own an exotic or classic aircraft in order to fly and enjoy an exotic or classic aircraft. You can book time in anything from a Cub to a P-40 Warhawk, or a P-51 Mustang, or even a B-25 medium bomber. The experience can be a one-off jaunt or become a regular routine. Whatever your aspirations, no matter what sort of aircraft pulls at your heartstrings, there is very likely a version of your dream machine available to you if you look hard enough. 

Let the fun begin. And may it continue for as many years and fascinating flights as you wish.