Jessica Meredith co-owns a 1979 Citabria with three other pilots at Santa Monica Airport. Each owner pays $160 per month of fixed costs, $30 per hour for future engine maintenance, and their own fuel.

There was one specific moment when I knew I had made the right decision to join an aircraft partnership. We had just completed some major maintenance work on the airplane involving the starter, alternator and various parts of the electrical system. It had required some custom fabrication and many hours of work, and had kept the plane grounded for over a month. The bill for the work had just arrived in my mail. As I looked at the four-figure number on the invoice and felt the shot of adrenaline hit my heart, I breathed deep, remembered the number would be divided by eight, and calculated my small-by-comparison share. I knew the other seven guys felt exactly the same.

Owning an aircraft is expensive. If you’ve ever sat down with a spreadsheet and input all the costs that go into owning and flying an aircraft, you’ve realized that financing it all yourself is a ponderous burden. The big-ticket items of maintenance, insurance, storage (hangar) and, of course, the cost of unexpected “surprises” are enough to dissuade anybody with an average pocketbook from owning an aircraft.

Unlike a car—where you can run to the local Pep Boys and pick up any part on sale—aircraft require specially certificated parts installed by mechanics with unique training. They require specialized “care and feeding” because of their unique role in flying several miles high at speeds much faster than a car. Not to mention the regular inspections and highly specialized instrumentation, as well as highly refined (and expensive) fuel requirements. No, owning an airplane isn’t for the timid.

But pilots were never meant to be renters. If you think about it, aviation is one of very few areas where renting is considered normal. Though it’s possible, you don’t usually rent your motorcycle; or your mountain bike, or horse, or race car or boat. Yet in aviation, most of us have to rely on an FBO with possibly tired airplanes and unknowable maintenance to provide us our flying fix. Owning an aircraft has become too expensive for most folks. And that’s where partnerships save the day.

Types Of Co-Ownership
There are many flavors of partnerships: limited liability company (LLCs), simple partnerships, fractional ownership and flying clubs. The difference is in the individual responsibility of the members, the liability exposure of the group, insurance ramifications and tax implications. The structure of the partnership can be anything from an informal agreement between two or more pilots to a corporate arrangement with officers, yearly meetings and shareholder agreements. One of our great freedoms in this country is the ability to create aviation partnerships that fit our unique situations.

A better word for sharing the cost of owning an aircraft is “co-ownership.” The word “partnership” is actually a formal designation of one type of co-ownership, and carries with it certain legal parameters. The term is usually used with a “for-profit” business relationship. It would be prudent to note that the legal, liability and tax variables for each type of co-ownership scenario is outside the scope of a magazine article and should be researched further—preferably with the advice of an attorney.

The simplest arrangement for pilots is the “co-ownership” scenario where there are two variants: tenancy in common and joint tenancy. The difference between the two relates mainly to whom the owner’s interest goes after death. Co-ownerships aren’t subject to tax because they aren’t a business entity. If an accident were to occur with a co-owned aircraft, attorneys could go after each individual for damages.

An LLC provides some liability protection. In an LLC scenario, an aircraft is owned by the company, and each member owns a share of the corporation. State fees and a tax return are due, but individual members report their share of profits or losses on their own tax returns. There also are requirements for annual meetings, complete with minutes and documentation. Individual members are usually named as officers in the company. LLCs are governed by state laws, as well, and should be researched carefully.

For most pilots without deep pockets, the simple co-ownership works best. These usually consist of 10 or less members and share one or more aircraft. The simplest scenario is co-ownership of a single aircraft with somewhere between two and eight pilots. These partnerships are easy to understand and run, and plainly show the advantages of owning an aircraft with several people.

The Good
There are so many beneficial aspects of co-ownership that it amazes me how all pilots aren’t clamoring for a share in something that flies. Those, like myself, who are in partnerships feel they’re one of aviation’s best-kept secrets. We thought we’d tell you a little about actual partnerships and how they work in the real world.

Jessica Meredith has only been a private pilot for several months. With the ink on her certificate still wet and about 80 hours in her logbook, she discovered a low-key co-ownership deal on a 1979 Citabria. “I had gotten the flying bug and couldn’t stop,” laughs Meredith. “I thought the Citabria would be a great airplane to improve my flying skills.”

The airplane was owned by four individuals who hardly flew the airplane. “Most of them had other airplanes,” Meredith says, “so the Citabria sat for long periods.” One of the owners had left, so the group was looking for a new fourth partner. Meredith stepped right in. An elementary-school teacher and a high-school rowing coach in her working life, Meredith was attracted by the idea of flying a more challenging aircraft than what was available at the local FBOs. She also wanted the chance to learn more about the airplane and the low cost of flying within a partnership. “It was much less expensive than renting,” she adds.

The group is very low-tech, like many successful partnerships. For scheduling the Citabria, “We just text each other,” Meredith laughs. She likes to fly on weekdays, which is the opposite of when the other members fly, if they fly it at all. Meredith has discovered that most of the time she has the airplane to herself.

Meredith enjoys working on the airplane with the mechanic—she’s the only partner who does. In doing so, she has discovered one of the hidden benefits of helping to turn the wrenches on a co-owned airplane: You get to know the airplane better than anybody else. Pilots who help with maintenance know the condition of each screw, the location of each leak and the condition of all the parts under the cowling. Meredith agrees there’s no better education in aviation. “I love to work on the plane! I really get to know it better,” she says.

Of course, cost is the biggest benefit. Any aircraft owner can cut their costs by 50% by adding just one co-owner. And the savings go on from there depending on the number of partners. In both Meredith’s and my case, that means huge savings when big maintenance bills come.

Co-ownerships can be priced differently, still with many similarities. In Meredith’s case, she paid a modest buy-in, pays her share of the fixed costs each month ($160) and then pays for her own fuel. Each member also pays a $30/hour engine reserve fee for future repairs and overhauls. My case is similar, except all of us pay a fixed per-hour cost of $80 that covers fuel, oil, engine fund, etc. Our group has eight equal members so our buy-in was less, though our airplane costs more. You can see that anything is possible, cost-wise.

AOPA did a recent study and posted some cost-of-ownership comparisons on their partnership website http://ap.aopa.org. Based on a brand-new $140,000 LSA, the cost of ownership for one person flying an average of 50 hours per year was $524 per hour after an initial outlay of $24,500. By comparison, owning the same airplane with four equal co-owners cost each member $164 per hour after a buy-in of $6,125. Increasing the airplane’s hours flown each year to 75 brought the per-hour cost down to $121. Remember, that’s for a brand-new, upper-tier LSA and not some student-hardened veteran sitting in the sun on an FBO’s ramp.

Another enormous benefit is the ability to fly an airplane that would normally be out of reach or unavailable. In my case, it means co-owning an aerobatic biplane that’s a hoot to fly for less money than I was paying to rent a 35-year old Skyhawk from an FBO. For Jessica Meredith, it means flying a challenging tailwheel aircraft with plenty of capability to urge her along in her piloting experience, for a fraction of the cost of renting.

The Bad
There are few, if any, negatives in co-ownerships. Nightmare scenarios are rare. One of the keys is choosing the right people. “My advice to anybody looking to get into a partnership is to talk first,” says Meredith. Like a marriage, owning an aircraft will be a relationship that must withstand good and bad. Interview prospective members and be candid about your requirements and personalities. Decide upfront what type of pilots you’re willing to own with, and stick to those requirements.

The biggest barrier to co-ownership for many pilots is availability. However, both in reality and on paper, that shouldn’t be of any concern. AOPA’s statistics show most pilots who fly recreationally fly between 50-100 hours per year. However, there are 8,766 hours in the year, so there’s plenty to go around.

Experience also shows that availability is simply not an issue. There’s a partnership at my home airport that flies a Cessna 172 with 10 members. The airplane flies an average of 80 hours per year. In my ownership situation, the airplane had flown only 32 hours the entire year before I joined. Since the group’s inception, the aircraft has flown less than 100 hours most years. In Meredith’s case, the airplane would sit for months without being flown. AOPA’s numbers show a four-owner aircraft flies an average of 200-300 hours annually at best. That equates to 1.75 to 2.5 hours out of every 100 hours during the year.

Getting Started
AOPA has revamped their partnership site, creating what could arguably be called the best co-ownership resource available. It’s called the AOPA Aircraft Partnership Program (http://ap.aopa.org), and it’s free. You can list yourself as looking for a co-ownership situation, or as an owner looking for partners. It’s a great place to start your search.

There’s more to the co-ownership idea, with such details as partnership agreements, methods of scheduling, insurance concerns and more, so there’s plenty to learn. But those of us who love to fly will find a way to do it. And if cost is a concern (as it is to most of us), then look no further than co-ownership.

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What’s An Aero Club?
iFly isn’t about rentals, ownership or fractional ownership; nor is it your standard flying club. Instead, pilots pay a membership fee for hassle-free access to a fleet of identical, state-of-the-art, high-performance aircraft at different locations. Maintenance, repairs, insurance and cleaning are taken care of; a member needs only to show up.

Unlike whole or fractional ownership, shared access means no unpredictable costs; nor is there a residual value risk at the end of contract disposal. “I originally wanted to purchase an airplane,” says iFly member Dean Shold. “But when I ran the numbers, iFly made sense based on how much I was flying.” Furthermore, the company’s four-to-one member-to-aircraft ratio guarantees greater availability than what most shared-ownership programs can offer. “Each time I’ve requested a plane, I’ve gotten one,” notes Shold. “It’s always clean and ready to go at a nice FBO, where my family can relax and watch TV while I do flight planning. The convenience is amazing.” iFly has developed touch-screen kiosks that automate the check-in process by allowing pilots to swipe an ID card and retrieve the aircraft key.

The company’s aircraft of choice is the 310 hp Columbia 350, equipped with a Garmin G1000 glass-panel system. “We selected the Columbia 350 because it represents the modern aircraft,” explains Lindbergh. “It has so much capability in terms of situational awareness, with total integration of traffic, weather and terrain.” Shold agrees: “The more I learn about the Columbia 350, the more versatile I realize it is. The G1000, climate control and speedbrakes make it extremely user-friendly.”

Should a member need anything while traveling, iFly has probably already thought of it. In the baggage compartment of each plane is a Flyaway Kit, which contains useful items like oil, rags, a first-aid kit, garbage bags and hand wipes. “Rentals aren’t nearly as seamless,” says Shold. “With iFly, you pay a reasonable price and receive premium service.” A five-year membership runs $39,900 plus additional fees of $1,795 per month and $70 per hour flown. Those who aren’t ready to commit can opt for the Experience iFly Promotion, which provides 25 hours over two months for $9,900. To qualify, private pilots must have at least 150 hours of flight time.

Currently, there are aircraft based in seven Southern California locations. “iFly has plans for rapid expansion,” says Joshua Chaiton, iFly’s cofounder and VP of Operations & Member Care. “We’ll be expanding our footprint to other Southern California airports, and then to the Bay Area and beyond. Our long-term goal is to be nationwide. In the future, if you’re traveling for vacation or business and want to fly, you’ll know an airplane will be available.”

Columbia 350 Transition
Each member is transitioned into the Columbia through the Columbia Aircraft factory training program. “iFly is great at providing access to first-rate instructors,” says Shold. “They’re passionate, which makes you feel comfortable and builds your confidence.”

I was to spend four days with John Fiscus, Chief Pilot of the Flight Academy. Before we met, I completed a prearrival assignment of 150 questions, with help from the POH, King School’s Cleared for Flying the Garmin G1000, and Sporty’s Flying the Garmin G1000. But I had a lot of my own questions as well. Although my previous time in a Cirrus SR22 proved beneficial, as a relatively low-time pilot, there was plenty new that I had to consider: prop control, vapor suppression system, crosstie switch, rudder limiter, Vernier engine controls and inflatable door seals—not to mention the Garmin G1000.

“It’s important not to try to take in everything all at once,” coached Fiscus, who has more than 6,000 hours of teaching in technologically advanced aircraft, mostly Cirrus. “Take each new piece of equipment one at a time, and eventually you’ll know everything.” Fiscus’ company, the Flight Academy, which he launched with fellow instructor Luke Lysen, specializes in this kind of training.

“Thousands of hours were spent designing this equipment to make it intuitive. Once you understand the logic of the systems, it becomes much easier to work with. New pilots and student pilots may have an increased time investment, but it pays off in spades when using all this technology to make a flight safer and easier.”

The first day of training focused on aircraft familiarization. Take off with 12 degrees of flaps, prop control full-forward, backup fuel pump set to armed, full power, right rudder and rotate at 75 knots. At cruise, rpm comes back to 2,500 and mixture to 50 degrees lean of peak, per Columbia’s Transition Training Syllabus. After steep turns, slow flight and stalls, we reviewed the autopilot system, which had useful features that were new to me such as Control Wheel Steering and Flight Level Change (or airspeed hold). Patterns are flown at a comfortable speed of 110 knots on downwind, 95 on base and 85 on final, with no unusual or difficult characteristics in the flare.

The remainder of the training was a delight: short-field operations at Catalina Island, patterns at Chino and Borrego Valley Desert (normal, 12 degrees flaps, no flaps, speed-brakes, engine outs), and Class B airspace navigation (made simple with the G1000’s moving map) at San Diego’s Lindbergh Field. After being signed off and meeting with Chaiton for a two-hour orientation, I was set free.

iFly, youFly
There were two goals I hoped to achieve with iFly: sharing general aviation with someone new to flying, and growing as a pilot through new experiences. My sister, Rachel, a newcomer to “little planes,” came out to California from New York for a weekend flying trip to the Santa Cruz area. Staged at Santa Monica’s Atlantic FBO, our Columbia looked impressive lined up next to Gulfstreams and Citations. This setting had Rachel expecting a Hollywood superstar to appear at any moment. “This is how travel should be!” she exclaimed.

A large TFR for fires was on the direct route to our first stop, King City, Calif., but its depiction on the G1000 was reassuring as we navigated around it. Having previously shrugged off autopilots (don’t they take the fun out of flying?), I was now realizing their benefits. Flying this outstanding aircraft with reduced visibility caused by smoke while fielding an endless stream of questions from my right-seater, the autopilot was invaluable in managing workload.

At King City’s Tutima Academy of Aviation Safety, a dealer for Extra Aircraft, Rachel rode in a new Extra 300L for an air-to-air photography session flown by air show performer Bill Stein (see “The Collaborators!” on page 58). “What a thrill to experience two different types of flying in one afternoon,” Rachel said. “It was like arriving in a limousine to take a ride on a Harley.” Stein joined us on the next leg to Watsonville, fitting comfortably in the airplane, in spite of several suitcases, miscellaneous bags, an oversized box, Stanley the teddy bear and two large boogie boards.

Two days and many ocean waves, roller coaster rides and shops later, we were back on the ramp packing up the airplane when another pilot approached us. “Will you really fit all of that in?” he asked, and watched as we did without a problem. The return flight was just over an hour, and as my sister marveled at the Pacific Ocean sunset, I smiled at the stream of cars on Highway 101 (an unpleasant seven-hour drive in my Jeep).

It took only one weekend with iFly for Rachel to figure out what general aviation pilots have always known. After leaving her at the American Airlines terminal at LAX, I received a text message that said it all: “Flying commercial is so lame.”

Feeling similarly spoiled, I reserved an iFly airplane again for the very next weekend. A long cross-country to the Colorado Rockies would push me out of familiar surroundings into mountain flying, high-density altitude and weather. I appreciated being joined again by Stein, a much more experienced pilot who could provide insight to almost any situation.

I must have changed my mind about departure a dozen times. Santa Monica was convenient; however another iFly location, Van Nuys, was a surer bet to avoid a marine layer in the morning. No matter how many times I switched the reservation, the staff at iFly remained flexible and accommodating. In the end, I made a last-minute decision to depart the evening prior to my reservation. With only a few hours’ notice, iFly had N104FP relocated, fueled and staged, with the key waiting at the front desk.

Flying over mountains, we were grateful for the terrain feature on the G1000’s moving map as the sun disappeared below the horizon. The next morning, we continued to Colorado via the Grand Canyon. Navigation to and through the corridors was made easy by inputting user waypoints into the G1000. Stein flew wingovers (“the airplane was well-behaved and nimble”) so that I could photograph the amazing scenery below.

Our destination airport was Buena Vista, at an elevation of nearly 8,000 feet. The first thing I did upon arrival was answer questions about the Columbia as local pilots approached to see our “nice ride.” A stay at a relative’s cabin provided photo opportunities to fill up several more memory cards, and we were ready to fly again. Just 26 nm to the north, Leadville, Colo., North America’s highest-elevation airport, is at 9,927 feet. It proved impossible to resist in spite of (or because of?) a 14,000-foot density altitude. After consulting performance charts, we headed there for a landing, taxied back and took off. (A short visit still counts!) On this hot, humid day, the Columbia 350 performed great.

Afternoon thunderstorms thwarted our return, and the G1000’s real-time weather dictated it prudent to stop at Page, Ariz., for the night. “No problem,” was iFly’s response to the delay. They worked the aircraft schedule to eliminate any pressure on me to fly in a situation outside my comfort level. Instead, we watched the dynamic air show of lightning strikes from the shore of Lake Powell.

Storm activity prevailed the next morning, but the lightning-strike data and NEXRAD enabled us to navigate a path around the weather while constantly reevaluating our route. The resulting bonus was that we passed over Meteor Crater and Sedona, Ariz., which looked so inviting that we landed for lunch. After arriving back in Santa Monica, I spent a few minutes to fill out an iFly trip form and returned the keys to the desk. And that was all—no fuss about it. My sister’s initial assessment was right: This is how flying should be.

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