It was back in the post-hippie days of the late 1980s that I began my quest to become a pilot. Although I’d grown up in what was ostensibly referred to as an aviation family — my father was an airline pilot — I knew almost nothing about the process of learning to fly.
Dear old dad got his training in the U.S. Air Force, then additional training at the airline. However, his flight training experience bore almost no resemblance to my own.
I went the civilian route — a path he had never experienced and one I found tremendously difficult to understand in the pre-Internet age. I searched for answers, but found few that made much sense to me.
That is a leading cause of why my flight training cost so much more than it should have and took so much longer than I’d imagined.
I have a clear recollection of a phone conversation I had with a CFI back in the early days of my training. This wasn’t my CFI. It was one I’d never met. I never did meet him either. We just had that one phone call. The crux of the conversation was that he would be happy to instruct me if I owned an airplane. He strongly recommended I buy one if my goal was to shift into flying as a career.
As it happened, I did intend to become a professional pilot. That was a real motivator for me in those days. But I was also afflicted by a common and somewhat serious neurological disorder known as stupidity. I was sure that buying an airplane was an impossibility. After all, I was having enough difficulty paying for my flight lessons. Finding and buying an airplane was just crazy.
Or so I thought.
In truth, it’s not crazy at all. It’s actually a reasonable path to earning flight time and a broader aeronautical education.
Consider the benefits:
- If you own the airplane, you’re flying for the cost of fuel, maintenance, and insurance. A basic trainer that might cost $100 per hour or more to rent might be operated for half that amount.
- Access to a CFI who is understandably motivated to build time and earn dollars will become a negotiable process. Again, the cost of access could be as little as half what you would pay at a flight school.
- Putting yourself in the position to maintain the airplane to airworthy standards will cause you to learn far more about the inner workings of the machine than you are likely to learn when exclusively operating rented aircraft.
Here’s the thing: The airplane most of us would be likely to buy as a primary trainer is going to be a used aircraft. Probably, a very used aircraft. The odds are good that we will be looking at airframes that are decades old, with thousands of hours on them, powered by engines that were installed long ago.
My advice on this point has been consistent for years: You’re looking for an airplane that is ugly, slow, and inexpensive to operate. Don’t seek out some exotic model that sets your heart aflutter. There’s plenty of time for that later.
As a student pilot or a time-building private pilot, your focus shouldn’t be on speed, or payload, or glass panels. Just as in real estate investing, the deals are found where the majority of buyers don’t want to go.
A young man I’ve known for a few years recently took me up on this advice. He’s been in flight training for years without achieving his ultimate goal. Access to aircraft has been a problem. So he searched and found a truly unattractive Cessna 150 with a high-time engine, an analog panel, and a purchase price that’s well below what a new Hyundai would set him back.
In exchange for parting with those dollars he’s obtained 24/7/365 access to a flying machine that can get him up into the traffic pattern for some touch-and-goes or launch him off on an adventure over the horizon that he’ll remember with fondness.
He can dial back on the power and loaf along at a leisurely pace, building time while conserving fuel, which is another way of saying he can train at a lower cost than he’d ever imagined.
Of course, the airplane is less than stellar. It’s safe, but it’s also old. There will be maintenance issues to address from Day 1 through the last day he owns the machine.
But those maintenance decisions will teach great lessons too. Is it time for new tires or is that flat spot acceptable? Does that ignition harness need to be replaced or is it okay to let it go until the next annual inspection? Are these radios sufficient, or would the airplane be better with an upgraded model?
And the big one: Can I cut the cost of my annual inspection by finding an A&P with Inspection Authorization who will let me participate in an Owner Assisted Annual Inspection?
In the end my friend will spend far more on his private pilot certificate than many of his peers will. Yet, when he completes his testing and leaves the Designated Pilot Examiner’s office, he’ll be walking out onto the ramp to move his own airplane. He will be free to fly anytime he wants, anywhere he wants, and stay out from home base for as long as he wishes. That’s tough to do with a rental. Or he could decide to sell the airplane and recoup the majority of his flight training costs.
He’s got options — and options are good.
It took me years to buy my first airplane: A straight tail, fastback Cessna 150. I wish I’d known and believed in the potential benefits of making that purchase a decade earlier.
But as I say, I was suffering from an acute case of stupidity. Hopefully, you will be sharper and more ambitious than I was in those early years.
Owning your own plane certainly has its advantages. I have to schedule rides for my students 2 weeks ahead of time at our FBO. For fun, I fly my owner-built RV-7A about 60 hours per year. My first hour each year costs about $4000 (insurance, hangar, and miscellaneous). After that, it costs about $40/hour, So, my average cost is just over $100/hour, or $6500/year. But, I don’t golf—which would cost about the same, and I would be much more frustrated trying to get that ball into that super tiny hole. And, I wouldn’t have the smiles from the 25-30 Young Eagles who clamor to get a flight in my WWII painted plane each year!
I bought an Aeronca 7AC Champ for $5,000 in 1986. Good for sightseeing and flight instruction. I logged 800 hours in five years. Logged over six-thousand landings. ‘flew over the Sierras numerous times on seventy-five horsepower. ‘stuck a valve and replaced a cylinder; ‘cost me $800.
No one ever accrued hours for less money. Or more REAL experience.
Jamie is right.
An old friend told me,”You can have anything you want. You just can’t have everything you want.”
If you really want an airplane there is a way to do it.
You may have to decide what else you can do without or postpone.
Might be that bass boat or the European vacation or the new car but there is always a way.
I can understand about rental planes not being available at a moment’s notice. I’m a pre-solo student at an excellent FBO. You might have heard of it. Aerodynamic Aviation. They have an online scheduling website and I have to book 2 months in advance.
But I figure I’ll be pretty hard on the airplane at least for a few landings, so I don’t want to beat my plane up while I teach myself how to learn how to land. After I solo, it’ll be a different story.
150/152’s are too small for me, and I can only fit into a Skyhawk in shirt sleeves, so I need a wider cockpit.
I had the exact same experience, during the same time frame…except I had a better airplane 🙂 Grumman AA1A. Not slow or old or ugly. To those nattering nabobs of negativism I say align your priorities. I was a starving college student. I had an airplane I bought and insured for the cost of a used car. But I didn’t waste money on a car like my peers. I had a moped I bought for $50 and an airplane. Yeah the radio (singular) was garbage, and needed continuing repair, yeah the alternator and voltage regulator gave me fits, but service providers took pity on a starving college student and I learned so much, and flew the doors off that plane (those familiar with AA1A will catch my joke) while burning car gas. I miss it to this day. Fast forward 35 years and ten airplanes, I now ironically have a straight tail 150….old and slow and ugly, but still flies great so who cares!
Do not fear failure, if you want something badly enough then do what is necessary to get it and you can. I have found this is an invaluable life lesson that I still abide.
Jamie is spot-on. When I started flying at a small airport in Montgomery County MD in the Spring of 2001 I looked for an old stick-and-rudder CFI to teach me the most basic flying skills, and I flew his Aeronca tandem two-seater with no electrics. After 9-11 an ADIZ was thrown up around the D.C. airspace and I had to transition to a plane with a radio and transponder. The airport’s sole A&P I/A pointed me to a straight-tail Cessna 150 for sale on the field and I bought it for $10k. I did owner-assisted annuals on it with that A&P for 12 years and learned a lot. I eventually graduated to a Cessna Skyhawk and I’m still doing owner-assisted annuals with that now-85-year-old A&P, a guy who is as honest and capable as the day is long. Owning your own plane and doing owner-assisted annuals is definitely the way to go.
Jamie – I loved the article. I’d also point out that there’s a “sweet spot” between renting from an FBO and owning a plane, namely a flying club. I joined a flying club in 2021 and it has given me the best of both worlds. I have the flexibility of flying whenever I want, for the most part, with access to 5 airplanes while sharing the cost with 80 other members. I’ve also been able to learn a lot about maintaining older airplanes and dealing with some of the inevitable issues that occur. Another benefit is the ability to get advanced ratings with a club member CFI, at rates that are much less expensive than at a traditional flight school. Finally, for the new pilot, a good club provides a great deal of social events, fly-outs, training, and other opportunities for the new pilot to learn from others. By the time I do take the plunge and buy my first airplane, my time with the club will have thoroughly prepared me for all of the twists and turns that owning an aircraft involves.
Jamie. As you know I’ve been an A&PIA for decades run a major A&P school and been a pilot for a lot longer. I’ve owned a substantial FBO and am a CFI, F/W and R/W. That said your article is dead on w the caviat that you need an aviation guru that you trust to coach when you buy. Ideally it should be that IA that will be responsible for coaching/signing for the maintenance. It also takes some of the blanks filled in like are you willing to learn on a TW (and become a more accomplished pilot). Now, unfortunately, finding that guru may be a bit challenging. The idea of investing in your own trainer is dead on. A good partner w a good written partnership might help but do it!!
Thanks, Terk. It appears the idea of owning an aircraft to learn to fly, build time, and enhance our lives isn’t a universally held belief. But I stand by the concept. There is risk, of course. But there is risk in every aspect of life. Risk mitigation in the form of finding a guru as you put it, or a mentor as I often say, can make all the difference.
Hope you’re well. I’ll be looking for you at Sun ‘n Fun next year – or perhaps on the island if I get back there this year.
Mike A is spot on in every respect. Perhaps after getting the ratings, for those wanting to build the 1,500 hours toward an ATP getting an older C-150 or the like, makes sense. Which is why the purchase price for them has sky-rocketed. Of course, being used this way usually means the absolute minimum care is taken, so the supply of good ones is virtually zero. $60k is the new $25k.
Jamie, on this one I do not agree with you. Now there are TWO steep learning curves, learning to fly, and learning to own an airplane. Both are expensive. Learning to own an airplane can get REALLY expensive very quickly if you are new at this.
I have no problem with old, ugly but safe airplanes. The problem I have is when the eager and enthusiastic new owner’s first annual comes due. “Well, son, y’all have two low cylinders, yer radios are obsolete, ya got no beacon, there’s some corrosion here, here, here, here and here, there are NINE old AD notes to comply with and no, you can’t fix none of this yerself.” (And his mortgage, yacht payment and alimony payment are all due tomorrow.)
This also assumes our eager new wants-to-be-an-owner did a title check and got the CD from the FAA. This reveals nuggets like a $40,000 unpaid lien from the Bank of Wazoo from 1963, and a mysterious “Form 337 filed” which on investigation turns out to be “Aircraft rolled into a tight little aluminum ball, jacked up fuel caps, installed new airplane underneath”. Oh, yeah, what’s this 20 year gap in the logbooks? Is that important?
A further assumption is that the seller of the airplane understands and respects what the buyer actually NEEDS, and not just that the seller wants this blankety-blank money pit with wings sold right now and doesn’t care who buys it. “Yessir, this here Bugsmasher 200B is *just* what you need, my man. Goes fast, looks good, you can learn in it and there’s lotsa time left on those Walter turbines and all the noise about the main spar life rating is just a bunch of nonsense anyway.”
Insurance . . . student certificate, total time 12 hours, time in type zero, tied down outside (not hangared, waiting list re-opens in 2036), retractable gear, taildragger, sorry, my underwriter just fainted when his calculator blew up.
Instead of buying a whole airplane and being responsible for all the expenses, join a flying club and divide your cost of ownership by 10 or 20. You aren’t going to be flying all the time anyway, and it is probably a good idea to spread the risk and the expenses. Let the club deal with all these problems, they already know most of the answers. Fly *their* old, ugly but safe airplane.
Later, when you have your license and some experience (and some more money), THEN go buy the right aircraft for your needs. Always remember, you can’t join the army as a general.
No, but I can buy a Lieutenant colonel uniform when I join the army, waiting years before I’m allowed to legally use it.
But I can, before join the army, buy a lieutenant colonel uniform to use, much time later, when I’m leggaly allowed to use it.