pilots Archives - Plane & Pilot Magazine

A Father Goes Flying With The Kid

Plane & Pilot — Thu, 23 Nov 2023 10:06:45 +0000

By Wayne Pinger

I dipped the fuel tanks with my home-calibrated doweling, a dipstick gas gauge I made and strategically notched at 9 and 18 gallons, or average one and two hours of flight. I cross-drilled it and glued a smaller dowel through to form a T to avoid dropping it in the tank. Still, the task of checking the fuel was far from easy as I balanced, one foot on the wing strut and the other on a not-very-robust step riveted to the fuselage. The “Kid” had offered to check the fuel, but I said, hanging on and trying to read my dipstick: “No, I can do it; how much was it?”

The Kid picks up the bill and reads it: “32 gallons,” and realizes he’s been had. Gas bill in hand and no other immediate task, he gives me the stink eye and walks to the FBO to pay.

Goodbye, Dolly

“Dolly” is one of the Kid’s airplanes but has been in my care for nearly eight years. I gave up solo flying a while back because of age-related forgetfulness, but with a competent pilot in the right-hand seat, I am ready to go. I still have my Basic Med, and I’m legal by about a month under my last flight review – “So, better enjoy it, Flyboy, because this might be it.”

Tomorrow, Dolly will fly the Kid to California to her new temporary home. An inspection will follow, and then she will go on the block for sale. Already, I am told, there is an interested buyer. I hope the lucky buyer will treat her well.

I kick the tires, check the oil, and walk around with my hand on the leading edges of the wings looking for damage but finding only one crusty bug carcass that I moisten and rub off. I imagine I feel a touch of goodbye from Dolly, a Cessna 172N.

She looked and seemed OK, so we get in, fumble with the seat belts, turn the master switch to “On,” fuel selector to “Both,” and I pump the primer knob twice.

“You only need to prime it once and make sure the primer is locked afterward,” says my know-it-all son in his “teacher-student” voice.

I smile but don’t respond. I have started this engine and ones like it once or twice before. Dolly comes alive with a friendly, familiar heartbeat of 700 rpm.

“This is not my first rodeo,” I say with a smile, knowing it’s been nearly four months since I last flew: “This is one rusty cowboy.”

The task of checking the fuel was far from easy as I balanced, one foot on the wing strut and the other on a not-very-robust step riveted to the fuselage. [Illustration by Barry Ross]

Soon we are taxiing to the ramp while I’m admonished to raise the windward aileron (we have a 5-knot crosswind the Kid seems to think of as a small hurricane), and, “Taxi no faster than a person would walk.”Once again, I pretend not to hear his advice, a product of his many years of aviation experience and a grossly swelled head.

He does have several thousand hours in his logbook compared to my 500 or so, but he’s not a CFI, and unless I’m paying him, I don’t require his guidance. Finally I remind him of that fact. He is, of course, delighted.

After a good run-up, everything is green, and I announce: “Merlin traffic, white Skyhawk departing east on 13, Merlin traffic.”

“You really should identify with your tail number… and it’s ‘Grants Pass’ airport, not ‘Merlin.’ Other pilots flying in might be confused with that nomenclature,” and he really did say ‘nomenclature.’

When he was growing up, I taught him a lot. I demonstrated a straight arrow of morality and on a practical level, exposed him to a world of mechanical knowledge, starting him at age 10 with a Honda 50. He did well, and I graduated him to a Yamaha JT-1 Mini Enduro. When he was tall enough to see over the fender of most anything, I taught him about ignition and carburetion systems, and about motorcycles, riverboats, chainsaws, engine-driven compressors, generators, and anything else with a gas engine. The Kid learned a lot, but the word ‘nomenclature’ was not in the knowledge he gleaned from my fine tutelage.

En Route Attitudes

As we pass 400 feet, I reduce the rpm and trim for a 300 fpm climb. A right turn would put me in the pattern for 31, the usual runway, so I turn left and head for 4,000 feet. The Kid says nothing, so I assume there’s hidden approval in his silence. Things seem to be going well until I notice the airspeed indicator is near zero. The Kid seems not to notice, and I don’t call his attention to the blue pitot tube protector, the one his mom made, still protecting the pitot tube.

Some minutes later at 4,000, I lean the mixture, adjust the trim, and push the sun visor aside. We are headed west and skimming over the hills some folks call mountains. The air is dead calm under high broken cloud cover, and it’s 70 degrees.

In a few more minutes, when he is finally done futzing with some sort of navigation app on his phone and we are nicely on our way to Gold Beach, he puts it aside, adjusts his hat, and says in a commanding voice: “What’s the oil temperature and pressure?”

I pleasantly answer, hoping he still doesn’t notice the airspeed dial: “They’re in the green.” I scan the instruments occasionally, and just had.

I was pushing my Cessna 170 through the clouds and across the tundra when “His Majesty of the
Air” was still in grade school. The A&P and AI certificates he has are great, and I’m proud of him and my daughter-in-law having their own big-city flight service center, but those pieces of paper don’t make him my king.

I hold back my ire because I’m thinking about his high school graduation 45 years ago, when he was still pretending respect for his elders.

After graduation, the Kid signed up for A&P classes at the local community college. He worked
at East-Side Hardware in the mornings and attended classes in the afternoons. I remember when
he rebuilt the engine out of his first airplane, a Taylorcraft that was 80 percent fabric and 20 percent duct tape. His first complete and total rebuild was done on our kitchen table. He split the case over the propane stove in the kitchen because it was winter and nearly 35-below in the garage.

Low and Slow

The Kid’s instructional droning continued, and at one point I considered shutting down his headset. But he finally clammed up. I had time to grab my iPad from the side pocket and with the help of ForeFlight (what a great navigation program) figured out where we were.

We crossed a small set of hills and the untamed Rogue River appeared below us. With a slide-slip that would please Bob Hoover, we were at maybe 200 feet, doing lazy turns following the Rogue’s path to the ocean. We were low, enjoying the sights, seeing sandbars slipping by, and an occasional fisherman who would wave—some with an open hand and some with just the middle finger.

Smooth Landings

I grab my checklist and prepare for the landing at Gold Beach. I radio five or so miles up the river from the bridge, and without negative commentary from my passenger, Dolly slowly ascends to pattern altitude. A minute or so later, we are over the ocean in a lazy left turn, and then on a very extended downwind for landing on 34. I radio again as the mixture goes to full, and pull power to zero when crossing opposite the landing threshold.

It feels good turning base and I pray he doesn’t look at the airspeed. Well past the breakers and headed toward the hills behind Gold Beach, it’s a grand day. I’m a little high turning final and put in a smidge more flaps while pulling on the carb heat and flying slightly into a left-to- right crosswind. The Kid says, “You don’t need carb heat, the carburetor is warm, it’s bolted firm on the oil pan…it might stutter if you have to go around.”

I counter his directive in a voice reminiscent of a personal hero, Henry Kissinger: “I always land using carb heat, and I only pepper my steaks.”

“You’re the pilot,” says the Kid, rolling his eyes. I wondered if he might be inspecting his brain cells.

He is hardly relaxed as Dolly lines up while slipping into the crosswind and touches down gently: first the left main and, a split second later, the right main and nosewheel.

Though I never really learned to land a nosewheel airplane well, the gods of flight smiled on me as Dolly and I made the smoothest 10-knot crosswind landing ever—with no accolade from the Kid, of course.
I taxied close to a porta-potty, keeping the up-wind aileron in its proper position.

When I returned from the facilities, the Kid was checking the oil and cleaning the windshield—the pitot-tube cover hanging from his back pocket. He never said a word.

After lunch, we flew north along the coast to Cape Blanco for a touch- and-go, then on to Bandon, and after Southwest Oregon Regional airport in Coos Bay, I turned toward the Grants Pass Airport in Merlin.

About 10 miles out, I checked the AWOS and radioed: “Grants Pass traffic, Cessna 555-Mike-Kilo, 10 west at 25-hundred inbound, landing 31: Grants Pass traffic.” And the Kid nodded with his approval that at the time seemed quite important.

Editor’s Note: This story originally appeared in the July 2023 issue of Plane & Pilot.

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This Incredible Pilot: Katherine Stinson

Amy Wilder — Fri, 17 Nov 2023 16:13:41 +0000

When we think of pioneer women aviators, there are a few names that stand out: Jacqueline

“Jackie” Cochran, Bessie Coleman, and Amelia Earhart among them. Each owns a unique story and particular accomplishments for which they areremembered. Others who set records in their time seemed to fade a little into the background of history. One of these pilots is Katherine Stinson.

Stinson, a contemporary of Earhart and the fourth U.S. woman to earn a pilot certificate, established a fair number of records in her day. She invented skywriting by attaching flares to her airplane and writing “CAL” in the California sky in 1915 and made public appearances around the world promoting aviation.

While her aerobatic firsts and endurance records are worthy of respect, some of her “quieter” contributions also continue to influence aviators and aviation today.

Most of us are likely familiar with Stinson airplanes but may not know that Katherine and her mother,

Emma, founded Stinson Aviation Co. in Arkansas in 1913, a precur- sor, at least in name, to her brother Eddie’s Stinson Aircraft Co. She and her mother also founded the Stinson Municipal Airport (KSSF) in San Antonio in 1915 and established a flying school where Katherine’s sister, Marjorie, was a flight instructor.

Stinson, a contemporary of Earhart and the fourth U.S. woman to earn a pilot certificate, established a fair number of records in her day. [Library of Congress]

When civilian pilots were grounded a few years later as the country redi- rected its efforts to World War I, Katherine became the first female U.S. Postal Service pilot, but it was a short-lived occupation after the press erroneously reported she had bested her instructor in a “race” during her training missions.

In 1918, after the Army turned down the Stinson sisters when they tried to volunteer for military service, the “nineteen-year-old girl aviator”— she would have been 26 or 27 but was known for being petite—“…flying in a Curtill [sic] Military Tractor… picked up the contributions to the Red Cross, $100,000,000, at Buffalo, Rochester, Syracuse, Albany, New York, Philadelphia and Baltimore, car- rying the checks to Secretary (William G.) McAdoo who received her person- ally on the steps of the United States Treasury in Washington,” according to a photo caption from the American Red Cross archives.

Assuming the caption recorded the right number of zeros (other sources report the total as $2 million), Stinson collected and transported the equiva- lent of $2 billion (or $40 million) in 2023 dollars to McAdoo in her Curtiss for the war effort.

She then went to Europe to serve as an ambulance driver, but a bout of tuberculosis cut her career short.

It was not until 17 years after Stinson’s death in 1977 that the Air Force’s Jeannie Flynn became the first female U.S. fighter pilot—poignant as Stinson had been denied joining the ranks of military aviators so many years before.

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OMG, Insurance!

Amy Wilder — Tue, 16 May 2023 12:20:03 +0000

Yesterday I flew our Cessna Citation CJ1 single pilot from Austin, Texas, to Tampa, Florida. The weather was good at both ends, but a cold front with thunderstorms reaching upwards of 45,000 feet into the sky lay in wait across the route. At FL 390 only a minor deviation was required and our flight time was only a few minutes more than forecast. We were home safe by 3 p.m.

Today I cannot make that flight as a single pilot. My almost 7,000 hours, of which 2,000 are in that type of jet—and the Wright Master Pilot Award, are of no help. My recurrent training, the FAR 61.58 single-pilot checkride, is only a month old, but the insurance industry has deemed me too old to fly single pilot.

I have looked for evidence that experienced older pilots have an increased risk for mishap or mayhem, but I can’t find any. I look at accident reports with focused interest, but mostly I see runway excursions or accidents in airplanes piloted by younger pilots—sometimes two pilots. Somebody, somewhere, has decided not to take the risk with me.

Actually, that’s not completely true. I do have a bid to insure our airplane for single pilot operations for three times what I paid until yesterday—nine times what I paid four years ago. The dollar amount pushes $100,000! So, yes, insurance is available if you are beyond rich. Even if I were that wealthy, that kind of price would be so offensive as to scare me away. That means that, functionally, I am unable to fly my airplane alone.

Is the word “usurious” or is it “rapacious?” No matter what you call it, it has this pilot in an emotional tailspin. Several explanations are widely quoted. The Boeing 737 Max accidents and resulting insurance claims affected the reinsurance market. If you have read the book, Downfall, or seen the movie, you’ll be angered to hear how a devotion to stock price drove the venerable aircraft manufacturer to lose its way. The latest reason (excuse?) is the disruption caused by the war in Ukraine. Russians own a lot of private jets, apparently. They get seized or impounded. Somehow this means I can’t fly.

Why not have a copilot? It’s a good question. I do enjoy flying with an experienced co-captain. I have one in mind, but he lives 100 miles away from me and has a life of his own. Hiring a copilot is also an option.When I looked at how many days of flying it took me to amass 120 hours of flying last year, I was surprised: 68. If the average cost of a copilot including expenses is +$1,500/ day; that would be more than $100,000.

In one sense, a copilot would be very welcome. I can use another experienced pro to help me decide which side of that thunderstorm to go around. Having another set of ears to pick up the ATIS while I talk to approach control is an additional advantage.

It is just that I don’t use an airplane like a carefully programmed businessman. I might decide at the last minute to take a friend up on his offer for box seats at the World Series (I’ve done that) or run another buddy over to Orlando to pick up his airplane (done that, too). To schedule a pilot, regardless of cost, requires calendar foresight and planning skills that I don’t possess. The freedom to fly a jet single pilot whenever and wherever is a gift to be guarded.

“Dick, you need to talk to my insurance company.” I hear this often. I have used the same broker for more than 40 years and have had no interest in shopping around. For many years this broker has provided insurance via the same carrier, and I have had no complaints, issues, or dissatisfaction. Three years ago, when I registered the first threat to my single-pilot operations, I sent a letter. I sought to distinguish myself from a “doctor in Bonanza” (I was a surgeon). I detailed my Part 135 flying experience, and emphasized my flying to Part 135 runway, weather, and approach standards. I got a reprieve back then—but this year, no dice. All those years of loyalty counted for nothing. I’m told the carrier I’ve used has changed partners and new underwriting criteria have been established.

So, now what? It’s tempting to push all the chips onto the table and just pay for the privilege to which I’ve become so happily addicted. Unfortunately, that amount is just too much. Maybe it is time to come back down the aircraft mountain and get a piston airplane again. Plus, I’ve been stymied by the FAA’s medical personnel in Oklahoma City for long enough. Somehow I can’t break through their categorization of my relatively uncommon eye ailment and get loose from the special issuance’s death grip. (More about that soon.)

If I got an airplane that qualifies for Basic Med, I could save money, get rid of the onerous (in my view) FAA’s antiquated criteria and learn to fly again below 18,000 feet and travel under 250 knots—oh, boo hoo. I know: An immensely lucky aviator finds his luck is diminished and won’t be graceful about it. I get what you’re thinking. Still, it’s a loss.

There is little question that these developments are a reminder of my mortality. No matter how fit you feel, or how often you go to the gym, one day you find yourself a little hard of hearing. You look down and you’ve lost a step. Looking out, the world looks the same, but people looking in see an old man. Maybe a toupee would help.

Joking aside, I’m morose. It took me a long time to make enough money to own and fly a CJ1. It took three years of Part 135 flying to really understand how to use such a magnificent piece of equipment. After 55 years of flying, I’ve finally topped out. It has been a fabulous ride, but I won’t lie: I am profoundly sad.

This article was originally published in the February 2023 Issue 934 of FLYING.

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Aeroswag Offers Unique Aviator-Themed Gifts

Julie Boatman — Sat, 08 Apr 2023 11:43:19 +0000

Picking out a gift for a pilot can always be a challenge, especially when they already have a great headset and flight bag. With graduation season approaching, and Mother’s and Father’s days around the corner, there will be plenty of gifting opportunities for pilots this spring.

Aeroswag, an aviation website that specializes in print on-demand swag, has the perfect gift for the pilot that has everything—custom “airport swag.”

Cell-phone case from Aeroswag

With more than 19,000 airports across the United States, chances are there is an airport that a pilot has a fond memory of, whether it is a home airport, first solo destination, or just a favorite place to fly. Now you can turn that favorite airport into a t-shirt, hat, cell-phone case, or dozens of other products.

Mouse pad from Aeroswag

Aeroswag provides print or embroidered goods that feature any U.S. airport, in the form of a VFR sectional or the airport code.

VFR sectional chart swag items include cell-phone cases, coffee mugs, stickers, mouse pads, socks, notepads, and even beach towels. The cell-phone cases are the most popular item so far on the entire site.

Aeroswag has been around for a few years, initially focused on VFR sectional goods, but it recently introduced a new product line: embroidered or printed airport codes on t-shirts, hats, hoodies, stickers, or polo shirts.

Hat with airport code and field elevation from Aeroswag

Airport code hats and t-shirts have become another one of the most popular swag items on the site, featuring a couple of different designs: 3-digit airport codes or 4-digit ICAO airport codes (such as those beginning with “K” in the continental U.S. and “P” in Alaska and Hawaii) only, or adding field elevation and city name, and latitude and longitude.

Aeroswag is planning to introduce additional products and designs throughout the year with the idea that “every pilot should own an airport,” even if it’s in the form of a cell-phone case, hat or t-shirt.

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A New Era for ‘Plane & Pilot’

Craig Fuller — Tue, 04 Apr 2023 07:08:26 +0000

Welcome to a new era for Plane & Pilot.

We are excited to embark on reimagining what Plane & Pilot will be in the future. The brand has a storied history and we want to honor that legacy so Plane & Pilot can live on for another 50 years.

Our goal is to make Plane & Pilot a brand that is an integral part of FLYING Media Group. We also want to ensure that it maintains a distinctive voice that is different from the other brands in the aviation industry, including FLYING Magazine.

When I first took up flying in 1992, I flew a Beechcraft Skipper and subscribed to two print magazines—FLYING and Plane & Pilot.

FLYING was exciting because I always viewed it as an aspirational brand, showing what was possible. It featured the most exciting new aircraft, gear, and technology—ranging from the latest model pistons to the most powerful business jets. When I bought FLYING two years ago this summer, we doubled down on the aspirational elements of the magazine, improving the quality of the print edition and focusing on what is possible in aviation.

Plane & Pilot was always a bit different. It had a “down to earth” essence to it, and as a young piston pilot, I always related to the content a bit better. At the time, I had limited resources and the content of the magazine was centered around the experiences of a recreational piston pilot. At the same time, it always illuminated the love and passion that its readers have had for flying piston airplanes.

Today, I exclusively fly piston aircraft. I am a 500-hour pilot only qualified to fly VFR—I took 20 years off between college and my rediscovery of aviation. I fly because I love it and try to get in the air every few days.

While running FLYING, I was always a bit jealous of the potential of Plane & Pilot—to provide depth and focus on the recreational piston pilot and market. The magazine zeroed in exclusively on one aspect of aviation—and a part of the world that personally I had nearly all of my piloting experience in.

FLYING Magazine is a special brand, but the mission of FLYING is to cover all aspects of general aviation (and at times delving into topics outside of GA), which leaves little room for the deep dives into the recreational piston story, a topic that is near and dear to my heart.

Now with the two brands under the same umbrella, we can do exactly that—we can double down on Plane & Pilot as the brand dedicated to the mission of the recreational piston pilot, while continuing to focus FLYING Magazine on the aspirational stories of general aviation.

I am honored to have the opportunity to participate in the journey of two of the greatest magazines in aviation.

I hope you will join me in this journey and subscribe to both FLYING and Plane & Pilot. I promise it will be worth it!

I would love to hear your feedback. You can reach me at @freightalley on Twitter.

—Craig Fuller, new owner of Plane & Pilot and founder/CEO of FLYING Media Group

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