Charged up and inspected (a post-buy I guess you could call it), I enjoyed flying this airplane for five years. I cruised at 110 knots and I got to fly fast eastbound and slow westbound. One flight from Chicago’s Meigs Field to St. Louis took over three hours at an average ground speed of 78 knots. At some point traffic on the interstate below appeared to outrun us. 

Time led to a succession of airplanes, each a little faster than its predecessor. A Piper Arrow gave way to a Cessna 210, which in turn was followed by a P210. The P210 could get up to the lower flight levels but was no faster, and maybe even a little slower, than the unpressurized 210.

This airplane was the winner for low flight. After a good tail wind on the east side of a cold front, I ran into furious headwinds out of the northwest after crossing the front. En route to Chicago, I descended to 10, then six, and then four thousand feet, watching the fuel reserves evaporate. Whew.

I flew that P210 for 13 years before buying a Cessna 340. Pressurized and faster, the 340 was flight planned for 190 knots true airspeed. It had the benefit of performing well at lower altitudes when we wanted to stay below strong headwinds and with turbocharged engines could climb into the lower FL 200s to take advantage of a strong tailwind. 

• READ MORE: That Sound of Music in the Air

It was when fortune shined upon me and I moved up to turbine-powered airplanes that altitude, speed and, for that matter, reliability became predictable. A Piper Cheyenne was arguably the best airplane for our needs. With a true airspeed of 230 knots and a penchant for lower flight levels (it was most comfortable at 23,000 feet), this airplane allowed nonstop flights from Tampa, Florida, to Lebanon, New Hampshire. Occasionally, though, that meant that a healthy boost from a quartering tailwind was required, but we did it more than once.

Over 17 happy years that airplane took us to Vancouver, San Francisco, Chicago, Colorado Springs, Miami, Key West, Marsh Harbor in the Bahamas and, of course, to our summer cottage in New Hampshire. The engines never hiccupped once. They were so reliable that flights across the Gulf of Mexico from Tampa to New Orleans were done without anxiety. 

All this turbine time allowed me to change careers at age 67 and be hired by a Part 135 operation where I flew Cessna CJ3s. Taught by some of the best and most patient captains, I became comfortable with true airspeeds of just over 400 knots and altitudes as high as FL 450. These weren’t my airplanes, though, so even though I was at the controls and became a captain, the special feeling you get from your airplane just wasn’t there.

The CJ3 experience gave me confidence to buy a single pilot jet when I retired. The Beechcraft Premier 1 was a real airplane, with sophisticated systems. MMO was .80. Two things about this airplane were really remarkable. As the sole occupant of the airplane, I occasionally found myself, alone, at FL 410—and the feeling was magnificent. And, yes, as a safety precaution, I always kept the oxygen mask nestled in my lap. 

• READ MORE: Riding in the Back of Some Nice Private Jets

The other remarkable thing about this Premier was its speed. My highest ground speed was 577 knots. A true airspeed of 450 and a quartering tailwind of 170 knots provided the push. These true airspeeds made headwinds less of a nuisance and made tailwinds a thrill. I have a picture of my daughter reading a magazine while the cabin information sign showed a ground speed of 629 mph. 

My fastest travel was, regrettably, as a passenger. Well, not too regrettably. In the 1990s you could cash in US Airways frequent-flyer points and book a Concorde flight. We didn’t have enough points for my wife, Cathy, and me to both fly Concorde, so she volunteered to fly to London the night before. I flew to New York, had dinner with a friend, and arrived the next morning at John F. Kennedy International Airport (KJFK) about an hour before British Airways was to launch a supersonic flight to London.

Stuffed with croissants and coffee, I got in line to board. When I got to the cabin door, I said to the flight attendant, “I would love to see the cockpit.” With a look of practiced disdain and a clipped British accent, she said, “Most of the children do.” Ouch.

I sulked to my seat and ordered a cognac. About half way across the ocean, the same flight attendant said that the captain would see me now. Armed with all sorts of Concorde trivia, including the facts that the airplane is longer at Mach 2 than on the ground as a consequence of friction-induced heat, that the airplane was trimmed by moving fuel backward and forward, and that, speaking of fuel, there would be very little left when we got London. 

• READ MORE: Taking the Grand Tour at Gulfstream Aerospace

As I entered the flight deck, the engineer greeted me. I knew if I was to stay there very long, I had to make a friend. The flight engineer was great. He told me of a time when he kissed his wife goodbye and reported for a New York morning flight. When he reached New York, the engineer on the return flight had “taken ill,” so he was assigned to head back to London. “When I got home, my wife had gone out with some friends. I was having a pipe when she walked in and said, ‘I thought you were going to New York?’ I answered, ‘Well, I did.’”

As he was telling this story, I noticed an altitude of 56,000-plus feet. “We float around up here. There isn’t any other traffic.” That is the highest and fastest I ever flew.

The flight attendant reappeared to drag me away. I pleaded to the flight engineer to return. He said he’d try.

Sure enough, a different flight attendant came back during descent and ushered me forward. I had scored the jumpseat for landing. ATC cleared us into a hold. The engineer said this was just for show: “We don’t have the fuel to hold, but other airlines complain that we get special treatment, so we have this little dance.”

We were then cleared direct to Heathrow (EGLL). After landing we were momentarily told to hold short of a runway from which a new (then) 747-400 was departing.

As Air China rotated just in front of us, the captain turned to the first officer and said, “It must be like flying a bloody brick.”

This column first appeared in the September Issue 950 of the FLYING print edition.

The post Half Century of Flight Has Included Some Altitude and Ground Speed appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1979 Piper PA-28RT-201 Arrow IV.

Over the decades general aviation has produced a number of design flourishes aimed at setting certain aircraft apart from their competitors. Critics often dismiss these features as gimmicks, but at least they look cool when new.

Even the Beechcraft Bonanza’s iconic V-tail empennage arguably has more to do with form than function. Still, it looks great today and is attracting a new audience including pilots too young to remember the model’s heyday.

I think the T-tail Pipers are enjoying a similar effect now, especially the Arrow, which has attractive proportions that harmonize well with the high-mounted horizontal stabilizer. Arrows with standard tails tend to blend a little too well with the less-powerful, fixed-gear Piper Cherokees that essentially share the same airframe.

Owners who want their Arrows to stand out on the ramp can count on the T-tail to make that happen. The turbocharged version, like the aircraft for sale here, gives pilots more options for achieving the best possible performance, including flying at higher altitudes, where normally aspirated models rarely venture, in search of more speed.    

This 1979 Arrow IV has 5,765 hours on the airframe, zero hours on its Continental TSIO-360 engine, and 855 hours since overhaul on its three-blade McCauley propeller. The aircraft is equipped with a Merlyn wastegate, carries 65 gallons of fuel and has a useful load of 1,148 pounds.

The IFR panel includes a Garmin GNS 530W GPS/comm, Garmin GNC 255A digital nav/comm, GMA 355 audio panel, Garmin glideslope/VOR/localizer indicator, G5 directional gyro, GTX 345 transponder with ADS-B in and out, Collins ADF, EDM 700 engine monitor, and a Piper Autocontrol II autopilot.

Pilots looking for a reliable, well-supported and stylish complex single with turbocharging to handle higher altitudes should consider this 1979 Piper PA-28RT-201 Arrow IV, which is available for $155,000 on AircraftForSale.

If you’re interested in financing, you can do so with FLYING Finance. Use their airplane loan calculator to calculate your estimated monthly payments. Or, to speak with an aviation finance specialist, visit flyingfinance.com.

• FLYING Magazine: Giving Your Airplane a Face-Lift and Tummy Tuck
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• Plane & Pilot: 1974 Piper Arrow II With LoPresti Speed Merchants Speed Kit
• The Aviation Consumer: Used Aircraft Guide: Piper Arrow
• The Aviation Consumer: Piper PA-28RT Turbo Arrow
• AVweb: Piper Arrow Pilot Reported ‘30-foot tall’ Triangular Object at 6,500 Feet

The post This 1979 Piper PA-28RT-201 Arrow IV is a Stylish, T-Tail ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1974 Piper PA-28R-200 Arrow.

Piper’s range of fixed-gear PA-28s, from the Cherokee 140 to the 235 hp Dakota, can handle many missions including training, personal travel, and cargo hauling. But for pilots in search of a personal aircraft with a bit more speed and efficiency than the similar looking fixed-gear models, the Arrow presents an appealing combination of speed, good looks, and economy.

For pilots who trained for their private certificates in Pipers, the Arrow is a natural step up that is less likely to break your budget than larger, more powerful models that have more complex systems and burn a lot more fuel. The Arrow for sale here is also a well-equipped training platform for pilots seeking commercial, instrument, and other advanced ratings.

This 1974 Arrow has 6,731 hours on the airframe, 849 hours since overhaul on its 200 hp Lycoming IO-360-C1C engine, and 177 hours since overhaul on the propeller. The engine is equipped with GAMI injectors.

The panel features a Garmin GMA 340 audio panel, Garmin GNS 430 WAAS GPS/nav/comm with localizer and glideslope, MAC 1700 nav/comm, Garmin GTX 345 transponder, Century II autopilot, and JPI EDM 800 engine monitor.

Pilots looking for a four-seat retractable that is suitable for long cross-country trips but easy to handle and familiar to those who trained in Piper PA-28s should consider this 1974 Piper PA-28R-200 Arrow, which is available for $84,900 on AircraftForSale.

If you’re interested in financing, you can do so with FLYING Finance. Use their airplane loan calculator to calculate your estimated monthly payments. Or, to speak with an aviation finance specialist, visit flyingfinance.com.

• FLYING Magazine: Giving Your Airplane a Face-Lift and Tummy Tuck
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• FLYING Magazine: A Wing and a Prayer for a Classic Piper Arrow
• FLYING Magazine: Should I Take Off? It’s Not a Simple Decision
• The Aviation Consumer: Piper Arrow
• The Aviation Consumer: Used Aircraft Guide: Piper Arrow
• AVweb: Piper Arrow

The post This 1974 Piper PA-28R-200 Arrow Is a Cost-Conscious, Complex ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Having never departed the UPS ramp, we shut down the three engines that had just been started. We waited for the just-out-of-college loading supervisor with the clipboard and stopwatch to climb up the portable airstairs/scaffolding.

The captain was incredulous that the young man had to be convinced of the fact our flight couldn’t just get off the highway at another exit without replanning and recalculating. (Jackson, Jacksonville…same thing, apparently.) My employer at the time was Evergreen International Airlines, one of the contract carriers flying UPS freight when the shipping company was in its aviation infancy.

So when my wife expressed an interest in flying our airplane to Louisville for a Kentucky Bourbon Trail tour, the above described 40-year-old memory evoked a snicker and a smile. I had survived that employment and gained invaluable experience that assisted in launching an enviable career with my dream airline. My only exposure to Louisville had been a nearby Holiday Inn and a pilot operations trailer on the UPS ramp in the darkness of night.

Our excursion more recently began with a visit to Greenwood, South Carolina (KGRD). The group of pilots and their wives who had conquered Iceland the year prior converged on Mike and Christa’s new lake house for a few days of water fun. We departed from separate Florida airports in separate airplanes with the goal of arriving at the same time. And thus began the process of threading the decision needle.

With Florida’s typical August spawning convective weather by early afternoon, it didn’t take much convincing that a morning departure was mandatory. Although my friend, Scott Roze, a retired colleague, wanted to coordinate departures in his Piper Dakota so that my wife and I arrived at KGRD via our Piper Arrow at the same time, it wasn’t one of my concerns.

Fortunately, Scott gathered his group for an earlier-than-planned wheels-up time that allowed them to avoid a band of convective weather rolling through the Jacksonville area. Despite his thousands of hours in all types of airplanes, Scott considers the Dakota and himself a VFR-only operation. Since retiring from the airline, he hasn’t maintained instrument proficiency to his satisfaction. Although I chide him about being a “Boy Scout” for following rules, I respect and admire him.

After our lake visit, my wife and I departed Greenwood for Louisville’s Bowman Field (KLOU). The 2-hour, 15-minute flight seemed simple enough for planning a direct routing, but a closer look revealed the Great Smoky Mountains as a terrain threat. Although the maximum sector elevation was 7,000 feet, it would be bad marital policy to subject my wife to potential orographic turbulence. To avoid such pain, I filed for a jog in the route farther to the south, nearer the lower elevations of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

In my former life, the mountains in South America, Latin America, and the U.S. required us to be situationally aware and vigilant of the terrain threat. In addition to our training, the airline designated certain areas of the world with specific alternate routing over mountainous terrain for an emergency or depressurization event.

Specific terrain-affected airports were also designated, requiring us to review idiosyncrasies in procedures, arrivals, and departures prior to our trip. In addition, some airports required a check airman to be on a captain’s initial flight. A 90-day currency was also a requirement. Tegucigalpa (MHTG) in Honduras is a good example.

Fortunately, our trek across the Smokies was accomplished with nary a bump. Aside from a handful of vectors through some cumulus attempting to go nimbus, our late morning arrival into Bowman Field was seamless. As fate would have it, the Uber driver was a flight instructor and airplane owner who had been encouraging his son to fulfill his airline pilot aspirations.

We kicked off the Kentucky Bourbon Trail with a tour of the Angel’s Envy Distillery, an easy walk from our boutique hotel. The tour became a valuable template for the remainder of the trip, imparting to us the necessary skill to properly taste bourbon.

It would have been un-American to not visit the racetrack at Churchill Downs, or not to tour the city, so we accomplished both the following day. After the Louisville visit and a couple more distillery tours, the next day’s plan was to return our rental car and fly 15 minutes to Bardstown, Kentucky (KBRY), where numerous distilleries and much cheaper 100LL was located.

Mother Nature decided to play her own cards with a line of convective weather. Although beating the thunderstorms was not out of the question, it seemed the right time for discretion to be the better part of valor. Keeping the rental car, we humbled ourselves with a 40-minute drive to Bardstown.

• READ MORE: So, You Can Actually Fly to Lunch?

Maintaining the long-standing tradition of cheap airline pilot, I awoke just before dawn and returned the rental car to Louisville. With thanks to my new friends at Bowman’s Executive Aviation, the Arrow was rolled out of a hangar for my short trip to Bardstown. I arrived through a thin, translucent cloud layer, reflecting later that maybe the RNAV (GPS) approach should have been requested despite the field technically reporting VFR conditions.

Tom, the affable Bardstown airport manager, greeted me with fueling assistance and our new rental car delivered right to the airplane at the tie-down spot. My wife had claimed never to have set foot in Kentucky, but we simultaneously had a déjà vu moment after entering a local restaurant for lunch. A later glance in the airplane logbook revealed a KBRY entry. Apparently, we had made a fuel/lunch stop at the airport six years ago when we brought the airplane home from Amarillo, Texas, shortly after its purchase.

After three days of touring the town and distilleries, we departed for home at sunrise in order to beat the usual Florida convective weather in the afternoon. Despite the capability to complete a four-hour flight with full wing tanks, my abundance of caution and our personal bladders don’t allow for such an operation. As it was, we had to thread the needle around a thin line of building convective weather that ForeFlight had displayed before departure. The technique of “looking into the light” got us through the line without a bump.

Aside from the typical frequency congestion through the Jacksonville area and the usual dive from the last assigned altitude, we arrived at Flagler, Florida (KFIN), no worse for the wear. It was a fun challenge to thread the decision needle, notwithstanding great memories and a newly stocked liquor closet.

This column first appeared in the November 2023/Issue 943 of FLYING’s print edition.

The post Kentucky Bourbon Trail Proves Worthy of a Flying Adventure appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

With my Piper Arrow loaded to its full capacity of four people (including me, two journalists, and an environmental executive director), the Lycoming IO-360 engine decided it no longer wanted to participate at full power. Instead, the engine protested by shaking the airplane with a pronounced vibration barely five minutes into the climb out. As though to scold me, the digits of the engine monitor display began to flash high EGT and high CHT numbers on the number-3 cylinder. I cringed.

Although I would find out later that the damage was done before I reduced power, it seemed an appropriate course of action. Having contacted Jacksonville Center for flight following just moments prior, I informed the controller that we had an engine problem and would be returning to our nearby departure airport of Waycross (KAYS) in central Georgia. The controller seemed indifferent to our plight and simply acknowledged my intentions, instructing me to squawk VFR.

Meanwhile, passenger intercom chatter had gone silent. In my best airline captain voice, I informed my passengers that we would be returning to the airport out of an abundance of caution. Limiting my use of the throttle in the descent while pointing the airplane directly at the runway threshold, disregarding any semblance of a normal traffic pattern, we arrived back on terra firma without incident a mere 10 minutes after takeoff. I apologized for the abbreviated flight. The passengers responded with gratitude, grace, and understanding.

Taxiing toward a parking spot, I inquired via the unicom frequency as to the location of the maintenance shop. The reply: “We don’t have a maintenance shop on the field, but I’ve got a couple of numbers for local mechanics.”

Having failed my policy of packing an overnight bag for such contingencies, I shook my head. The first mechanic said that he was no longer operating freelance and had taken a full-time position for a flight department in St. Simon’s Island. Despite his new employment, the mechanic took 15 minutes to assist me in troubleshooting. The second call yielded a willing and able A&P, Kip McClelland, who offered up his more available A&P brother, Koby, but not before attempting to troubleshoot as well. Koby wasn’t available until late afternoon. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Following the troubleshooting guidance, I started the engine. A magneto check was normal, with the engine monitor indicating noticeably colder EGT and CHT temperatures on the number-3 cylinder. Toward the end of my engine run-up test, the pilots of a Falcon 900 crew parked nearby walked rapidly toward the Arrow. One of the pilots, who had an A&P certificate, described white smoke flowing out of the oil breather tube. Not good.

I called Savvy Aviation’s breakdown service for additional advice. With the footwork already accomplished in locating a mechanic, the phone conversation involved a final troubleshooting step, pulling the prop through a couple of rotations. This step revealed low compression, a symptom of a sick number-3 cylinder. The problem was becoming more expensive.

While commiserating with me, aspiring airline pilot and Marine vet James Kidd revealed that he was flying back and forth via a well-seasoned Cherokee 140 between Waycross and of all places, Flagler Executive Airport (KFIN)—my home turf. James was building flight time to qualify for a potential Spirit Airlines interview. He was departing shortly but would return later in the afternoon. Although my airline buddies had already promised a rescue flight, it was great to have another option.

Approaching noon, the very sympathetic and hospitable Waycross FBO staff offered me one of the crew cars. I sampled additional southern hospitality in the form of lunch at a local restaurant. Fried chicken isn’t high on my dietary list, but when in Waycross…

Koby McClelland arrived on the ramp earlier than promised. He had a cheerful demeanor as he described his troubleshooting plan of attack. A brief engine run-up, more white smoke, the removal of a very wet spark plug, and a borescope video revealed that the number-3 cylinder had experienced a destructive event. The valves were seated properly, but the top of the piston and cylinder walls indicated that something melted, most likely the rings. Great.

With cell phones to our ears, Koby and I shopped for refurbished cylinders. The task became problematic because of the apparent short supply. Fortunately, one shop could have a cylinder completed and shipped within the week, which I skeptically predicted would actually be the following week. Unfortunately, I was proven correct.

Another aspiring airline pilot, Zach Ballard, attempted to assist with temporary lodging for the sick airplane in one of the hangars in which his boss based a King Air operation, but the daily price offered was more conducive to tying the airplane down on the ramp. Shortly after my rescue posse arrived via retired United Airlines captain Kage Barton’s Mooney, the airport lineman who had been tolerating my tale of woe for most of the day offered an unoccupied T-hangar leased by a local pilot. The local pilot refused any compensation, not even a bottle of wine.

Once the new cylinder was installed, not quite two weeks later, I returned to Waycross with Kage and his Mooney. Knowing that I would be meeting Kip this time, I did a double take when he hopped out of the Cessna 150 he flew from his home base of Douglas Airport (KDQH). The McClelland brothers were identical twins with identical careers.

It wasn’t until that moment it occurred to me that I had met them both at another Georgia airport during a fuel stop where a faulty fuel servo that was later replaced was making my hot start technique irrelevant. The brothers offered diplomatic advice, which eventually got the engine started. Gotta be a small world when you meet twin A&Ps twice. The name on their company shirts should have clued me in: Twin Aviation Repair.

A former airline colleague, Boeing 777 check airman and designated pilot examiner Jay Smith, braved the one-hour mission home to Flagler with me, but not before we flew a 30-minute test flight, circling above Waycross Airport.

Savvy Aviation remained involved, analyzing data from the engine monitor. I was concerned that my operational habits led to the piston and cylinder destruction. It did not. An admired engineer friend noticed a slowly decreasing fuel flow in the data analysis graphs during the climbout. Combining that observation with finding no magneto, spark plug, or fuel flow issues, the most likely cause of cylinder detonation was momentary blockage of the fuel injector. An engine shop that I consulted agreed.

All things considered, the aftermath experience was relatively painless. Compassionate and accommodating people made the difference. That said, I could only imagine the possible outcomes had the intended environmental observation flight continued over the Okefenokee Swamp. Fortunately, the checkbook balance was the only casualty.

The post Engine Troubleshooting in Double Time appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1975 Beechcraft A24R Sierra.

When pilots get together for long chats, the conversation often turns to training experiences, including the airplanes in which they took their check rides before receiving private pilot certificates. There are Cessna people who trained in 150s and 172s, and Piper people who trained in PA-28s. But there is a third group whose primary training came in fixed-gear Beechcrafts like the Musketeer and Sundowner, which are close relatives of the more advanced A24R Sierra for sale here.

To compete with the likes of Piper’s Arrow and Cessna’s retractable 172s and 177s, Beechcraft improved its basic trainer airframe with more power, retractable gear, and a constant-speed propeller. The changes gave the aircraft extra speed, carrying capacity, and overall utility. Fans of the model point to its roomy cabin and build quality that set it apart from some competing models. The Sierra is known for details such as extra space for six seats and trailing-link landing gear that help smooth out landings. It also sits impressively high on the ramp.

This 1975 Sierra has 4,143 hours on the airframe and 1,620 hours on the engine. Its IFR-certified panel includes a Garmin GTN 650, dual Garmin G5s, a GTX 330 ADS-B transponder, GMA 340 audio panel, Century II autopilot, JPI 700 engine monitor, and King KX 170B nav/com. Paint and interior are original.

Pilots looking to step up to a roomy, economical, four-seat retractable for faster-paced personal or family travel, or to build time in a complex aircraft, should consider this 1975 Beechcraft A24R Sierra, which  is available for $119,000 on AircraftForSale.

You can arrange financing of the aircraft through FLYING Financial Group. For more information, email info@flyingfinancial.com.

• FLYING Magazine: Approachable Aircraft: Beech Sundowner and Musketeer
• FLYING Magazine: Looking Beyond a Pre-Purchase Checklist
• Plane & Pilot: Beechcraft 1977 C24R Sierra 200

The post Today’s Top Aircraft For Sale Pick: 1975 Beechcraft A24R Sierra appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

This trading up went on for years. With each successive car, I felt I had reached some kind of finish line.I believed in each moment I didn’t need any more car than the one I was driving.

This upward mobility did finally end. I stopped driving sports cars in 2004 when a state trooper clocked me going 127 mph in a BMW M3. This was near my home, and I knew the Statey. Barry was his name, and he told me I had a choice: sell the Bimmer or go to jail right then and there. Sometimes a choice is no choice at all. It was pickup trucks from there on out. Last month, I bought my second RAM Ecodiesel in eight years, so there is proof to this plateauing. I don’t need anything more. I’m good. Not so much with airplanes…

My early days flying my instructor Neil’s Piper Warrior are some of my best aviation memories. This was even before I earned my private certificate. I recall one brisk autumn day on a cross-country solo flight to Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania (KAVP). The sense of freedom was overwhelming. It lit up whole sections of my brain. The fact that I could go anywhere, that there were no roads to follow. That I was pilot-in-command. It was child-like joy. Giggling alone in the airplane. Then that thought, “This is all I’ll ever need. Just a simple, fixed-gear airplane I can jump in and go.” Sure…

Neil was actively teaching multiple students in the Warrior, so the airplane wasn’t available to me as often as I liked. I drove to Cherry Ridge, Pennsylvania (N30), one afternoon to check out some rental aircraft there. I skipped right past the Cherokee and Archer when I saw a freshly painted Piper Arrow. Retractable gear, constant speed prop, high performance. Got the rating and checked out in the aircraft in no time. I flew my friends up to Canada, where we raced motorcycles around the track at Calabogie. I was utilizing my rating and exploiting the performance of the aircraft. Aside from one very hard landing in Kingston, New York (Arrows are bricks when you get close to stall speed), I showed my pals I was a competent pilot—and the wonders of GA. And then that thought: “I need a plane like this for longer trips. A Warrior ain’t gonna cut it.”

The summer after that, I flew the rented Arrow down to Georgia to see my buddy Jay. I pored over the sectional and found an airport with a circled “R” closest to the lakehouse. I found a number for Heaven’s Landing (GE99), this private airport nestled in the Blue Ridge mountains. Mike gave me permission to land there, and I set off on my adventure. It was just me and Seven, my trusted Lab, on this trip, and it was a long one—almost five hours in the Arrow. Did I mention it had no autopilot? The two-hour flight to Canada with three chatty friends was one thing. Dodging T-storms in August while hand-flying in light chop and moderate turbulence for five hours is something else entirely. That voice again: “We’re gonna need a bigger (read: better) boat.”

While I had yet to experience airplane ownership through these formative rental years, I was mentally compiling a set of criteria for when the time came: I needed something fast and comfortable. I needed IFR capability as I had grown tired of getting grounded by thin layers I could punch through in under 30 seconds with an instrument rating. And yeah, I needed something sexy. Though I was driving an F150 at the time, my aesthetic hadn’t died. It was just dormant. Time to wake up.

And then I met my first Beechcraft Bonanza. Bought her directly from the owner, Jeff, in New Orleans. We flew the airplane to New York together. It was one of the best trips of my life. I flew right seat the whole time, but Jeff taught me all the ins and outs, and every quirk N4984M had to offer. This was my forever airplane. Sadly, I totaled it in Telluride, but quickly bought another Bo just a couple of months later. Two RAMs, two Bonanzas. Could it be? Have I reached the end? 

I have not. I’m in a different place now than I am with the truck. I have no interest in moving up (laterally?) to a piston twin. Accident rates simply do not support the “two engines are better than one” mantra. I want a single-engine turbine. I want to get across the country in one stop, not three. I want to fly above the weather. I want FIKI (flight into known icing) for going through it. Pressurized comfort so I can take that thing out of my nose when flying above 12.5K.

But this isn’t like going from an Eclipse to an M3.That was a big jump to be sure, but it’s nothing like going from a Bonanza to, say, an Epic. We are talking about a jump in price that is an order of magnitude. A couple of hundred thousand to several million. No, this trade-up can’t be informed solely by my changing mission. I simply can’t afford it. To do that, I need to make Avatar, not Boiler Room.

The truth is my current Bo may, in fact, be the final airplane in this life of mine. And that’s okay. I’m not an ingrate. I am well aware that I have a fast, safe, beautiful airplane. I still stop and stare every time the hangar dooropens. But it’s not like my RAM, where I’ve resigned myself to more utilitarian ground transportation. No, this is different. I’m still lusting here. Still itchy. I want more in an airplane and if I ever get the chance, I’ll be burning jet-A in the flight levels.

This article was originally published in the March 2023 Issue 935 of  FLYING.

The post The Final Airplane in This Life of Mine? appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Although I miss having the resources that were available in my airline life, I enjoy the challenge of being my own dispatcher, meteorologist, and travel agent. I’ll admit to being a jack of all trades and master of none. Barring the need for a nap, my favorite copilot is not only an active participant in cockpit resource management, but she’s a great baggage loader, adept at organizing stuff to fit in the right places and still be accessible. She is also a competent ForeFlight operator.

The first challenge was departing our hangar. In response to the aftermath of Hurricane Ian, the airport director had allowed a subcontractor of Florida Power & Light to stage a massive presence of personnel and equipment on a portion of the ramp, blocking our egress. After coordinating with the FBO lineman, I used my electric tug to navigate the maze of tractor trailers enroute to the runway without spinning a propeller blade or scraping a wing tip.

Maintaining my instrument currency on my own is now necessary, so I filed IFR for almost every leg of the vacation. Having ATC as a traffic safety net is a benefit, although knob-twisting on the Garmin GNS 430 to enter waypoints is not my favorite task. Having embarrassed myself with a data entry error, I now read the waypoints to my wife from the GPS while she checks the spelling on ForeFlight, a procedure similar to one we followed at the airline.

Our first destination was Summerville, South Carolina (KDYB), near Charleston, reuniting with relocated friends we had missed in the wake of COVID. I warmed up for the trip with a reasonably executed LPV approach thanks to an S-Tec autopilot, an Aspen Avionics display, and a little old-fashioned pilot input.

As our journey progressed, I discovered that advance ATC requests to proceed toward the appropriate IAF (initial approach fix) saved a lot of last-minute maneuvering. In the big jet, such requests were usually unnecessary because ATC was already sequencing airplanes into the flow of high-speed traffic to particular runways at high density airports.

Two days later, I braved a 39-minute VFR flight direct to Conway, South Carolina (KHYW). With a couple of exceptions, our flight times did not test our bladders. And we mostly stuck to the two-day visit pattern, not wanting to age like the proverbial three-day fish with our hosts.

After a pleasant visit with other South Carolina, pandemic-forgotten friends, we departed for Asheville, North Carolina (KAVL). The trip to Asheville was important because we had recently lost our friend’s husband to pre-existing medical complications after a car accident. Warren Rauhoffer, a former Miami-based chief pilot and friend, had officiated our wedding more than 25 years ago. We thought it appropriate to play our wedding video for an audience of one despite it not being an action thriller.

The higher terrain around the Asheville airport offers some challenges. Although orographic turbulence can be a factor, our arrival involved only light chop. A line person from Signature Flight Support towed the Arrow to the far end of the tie-down area, where we weren’t tied down. On our departure day we awaited an escort through the security gate, which never arrived. They eventually provided transportation, but it would have been easier to just roll our luggage across the ramp, as we’re seasoned professionals. Credit to Signature, though—they waived the service fee for the inconvenience.

From Asheville we proceeded to Charlottesville (KCHO) and to the wedding, where we partook of the amenities at the Boar’s Head Resort, which included some much-needed exercise at one of the University of Virginia’s athletic facilities. At the airport, Signature personnel were friendly and personable, but…well…we paid Signature prices. After Charlottesville, we departed on an 18-minute non-stop to Culpepper (KCJR), Virginia. We spent time in the quaint town, visited battle sites, and hiked two trails in the Shenandoah mountains.

A 35-minute flight took us to Gettysburg (W05), Pennsylvania. Although the airport was short on ramp space, the manager was accommodating and great with recommendations. Aside from the historical significance of a town caught in the crossfire of war, it hosts a powerful connection to our past. It was an important perspective to stand on the site where the author of one of the greatest speeches ever addressed the country—Abraham Lincoln.

Departing Gettysburg, I made a rookie mistake in preloading the 430 with the filed route through NewYork airspace. Five revisions and a few vectors to nowhere later, we arrived at our former home airport of Danbury, Connecticut (KDXR). In addition to visits with old friends and a driving tour past our former residence, the Arrow got a prop balance from my friends at Tally-Ho Aviation.

To abbreviate the remainder of the journey, we spent three days with my 91-year-old mom in Syracuse, NewYork (KSYR), and flew to Concord, New Hampshire (KCON), to visit another couple—the husband was about to retire as an Airbus A320 check airman from my former airline. We continued to Boston, arriving at Norwood, Massachusetts (KOWD), taking in the spectacular panoramic view of Beantown from our friends’ 51st-floor apartment. RVR visibilities quashed our plans for a flight to Providence, so Amtrak came to the rescue.

The incredible scenery around Biddeford, Maine (B19), inclusive of Portland’s breweries, was our next stop to visit friends. We then departed Maine, routed directly over my old JFK stomping grounds and continued to Cape May, New Jersey (KWWD), for a semi-informal Allegheny Commuter reunion—the employment during which I had earned an ATP.

From Cape May we altered our course, and I got to test my skills flying an actual RNAV approach and landing on a short, skinny runway—obstacles included—in Annapolis, Maryland (KANP). There, we visited with an Allegheny Commuter captain friend whose career abruptly ended because of a botched medical procedure. She was one of the airline’s best pilots.

The last stop was in Ellijay, Georgia (49A), a destination we have visited numerous times. My JetBlue friend and his wife own a second home on the outskirts of town. The occasional moderate chop and IMC we encountered over mountainous terrain was not high on my wife’s hit parade, but we arrived with our dentures intact.

Our three-hour leg home to Flagler Beach, (KFIN), was not without challenges. The relaxed morning departure time put us in the path of un-forecast afternoon convection, requiring us to zig, zag, and climb to higher altitudes. After five weeks, we were glad to reunite with our Sleep Number bed. The airplane facilitated great memories of the past and present. That being said, I may wait a while to ask my wife about another sojourn.

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

The post A Flying Sojourn at Low Levels appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

In my early 20s, I started my first real flying jobs, first as a CFII, then a fledgling “corporate pilot” flying an advanced T-Tail Piper Arrow. To me, with its big tail, the Arrow was an airliner. It looked like a McDonnell Douglas MD-80 or Boeing 727, I thought. Some 30 years later, I’ve now gone full circle having flown almost 11,000 hours with some 7,000 of those hours in business jets. 

Recently I got checked out in a club’s Piper Archer II. It’s just like the one in Microsoft Flight Simulator 2020, also known as FS2020. Or, I should say, FS2020 is a lot like the real aircraft. 

The fidelity of sims allows me to compare sim vs. real life, and the gap of realism is closer than ever, with some of the photos I see on the internet fooling me into thinking they’re real. I wanted to share my personal sim vs. reality pics with you. But let’s take a look at the first part of this “Been There, Done That” series together.

• READ MORE: Flight Sims, Real World Flying Interact Beautifully

The Carenado sim add-on Archer II with a classic panel offers the same pilot’s-eye perspective at proper viewing height. This is extremely important in any flight sim, as you must position the seat at the exact correct angle and height to get the best visual sense to make proper takeoffs and landings. This is just like real life, where you must do the same, but for some reason, most “default” viewpoints in the flight sims I have seen have this far too low, as if being seen from the eyes of a toddler in the seat.

I have learned how to use the real-life Garmin GPS panel based on what I see in the sim here. When flying the real plane for the first time, I felt right at home learning on the go. A real “been there, done that” feeling.

Early on in my career as a new jet pilot, first type rating class for a Beechjet 400A, I was faced with the flight management system (FMS). The instructors at CAE were amazed at my ability to program and execute anything on the “box,” as normally, new jet pilots must take an extra five-day course on this machine. They couldn’t believe someone who had never flown jets could use the FMS so quickly, and when they asked me where I learned all this, they were stunned. They couldn’t believe any Microsoft Flight Simulator “game” could produce this much accuracy. I proved them wrong. 

The finest Collins FMS representation for 20 years or more has been on the PMDG 737 series, often known as the finest jetliner add-on ever produced year after year for the MS series. It is identical to most business jet FMS units in service today and was most beneficial in my first type rating Class. A. 

I recently visited my sister in Arizona and we took a trip to Sedona. The spectacular scenery was showcased all around us. Equally impressive is the scenery in the new MSFS. While not totally photorealistic, it sure beats any FAA level D that I have used. So I decided to find our exact Sedona hotel view, and replicate it in the flight sim. This is my balcony view in MSFS which took quite a while to find by Bell 407. 

Years ago I took a trip to Europe in one of the Challenger 300s I flew, where I got to go to the most beautiful place I have ever been on earth—Zermatt, Switzerland, home of the Matterhorn. This is me standing on a glorious May afternoon at about the 11,000-foot level. 

In the sim, I risked it all to land a Bell 407 in the exact general area in MSFS, using the same time of day, date, etc. I had to manually play with the snow depth adjustments to better tweak the visuals to match the photos. 

The real Gornergrat Observatory is perched high on a mountain at 10,200 feet, complete with a train line. It is a hotspot for skiers year-round, and is a luxury hotel as well. 

Two years ago, I was in command of my first-ever Pacific Ocean crossing to Lihue, Hawaii (PHIL). The 5.5-hour flight was non-stop from Oakland International Airport (KOAK) to PHIL, arriving on a glorious July afternoon. 

The MSFS2020 view is at the same place and about the same distance, at the time of day, reflecting the same weather. The only corporate jet by default that we can use in MSFS is the Citation Longitude, it’s quite similar to the Falcon 2000s and Challenger 300s that I have flown in its performance and range. 

• READ MORE: Flight Simulator’s Cessna 310 Offers Up Realistic Weather Lesson

Here is the same location in the sim. Not quite as photorealistic as some areas, but the terrain and placement of the lakes are perfect. Flying this close to those sawtoothed peaks ought to be rough, but surprisingly in all my years operating in and out of this place, I have yet to experience any shear, turbulence, or mountain rotor activity. The reason for this is when operating in the Rockies, we tend to only go in or out during good weather. I have not been there when it’s too windy. Perhaps a good thing to try in the sim for a future piece. 

I love simulating the ultimate private airliners, especially the Boeing Business Jet (BBJ) series. Nobody has produced a better BBJ than PMDG Simulations. PMDG has made the 737 series for more than 20 years and is heralded as the finest replication of a 737NG on the computer platform with much attention and approvals from Boeing. I was shocked when I saw the real BBJ2 (737-800 series) in the exact livery of the one on the sim I love in Van Nuys Airport (KVNY). 

Up until now, all my sim flying has been done primarily while traveling, in a hotel using a great portable joystick, and throttle quadrant. But in a moment of “hold the press” excitement, I just got my first ever professional grade yoke, throttle quadrant, and rudder pedals. I am blown away by the quality and workmanship of these units. I have never felt such realism and precision until now. 

I would highly recommend getting this pack as I did from the great Sporty’s Pilot Shop for about $600, which by itself is an amazing deal on the three components of any home cockpit. Once you make this investment, for the cost of about three flying lessons, you’ll get years of realism and fun out of them. The build quality is the best I’ve come across without cannibalizing a real aircraft. 

The post Been There, Done That appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

That was the case a few years ago when a long-time pilot friend told me she wanted to upgrade to a Beechcraft Bonanza that had come up for sale. It was in the middle of the pandemic, which meant she probably wasn’t alone in her pursuit, as more people were finally deciding to tap into the general aviation market.

The problem, my friend explained, was that while she earned her private ticket years ago, she hadn’t pursued her instrument rating because flying was still just a hobby for her. Years went by while she worked in another industry, and she only periodically kept up with flying, usually going up with friends. However, now, with money in hand from her professional endeavors, she had the means to buy her own airplane.

There’s a reason the Bonanza has been in production since 1947, with more than 17,000 built. For most pilots, it gets the job done. Even older versions with enough retrofits—through engine upgrades, new glass displays,and electronic instruments—will feel almost new. With a Bonanza, you can get in and out of most fields with relatively modest runways and navigate moderately inclement weather with confidence. If you add on tip tanks or even internal auxiliary tanks, ferrying a Bo across the U.S. is doable and allows you to explore many places that an airliner can’t take you. Finally, with a six-seater variant, you can bring a lot of company along. However, all of that comes with a few caveats because of the higher exposure to risks, simply because you can do more.

Therein lies the challenge for many would-be buyers who find that leaping up in the airplane ranks isn’t as easy as they’d like it to be. Insurance companies tend to find pilots who lack an instrument rating or more advanced certifications too great a risk to provide reasonably priced coverage. Providers consider a series of factors that include the pilot’s background, recency and proficiency experience, and the category and class of the aircraft as part of the final policy premium.

Of all these factors, the most pressing is pilot experience and hull value. Simply put, in the eyes of your insurance agent, a bigger, faster, and more powerful airplane will naturally require a more experienced pilot, regardless of the would-be owner’s ability to pay for it. The more my friend realized this, she saw that being able to afford the Bonanza was the easy part.

The logic isn’t unreasonable, since if you want to fly a big, powerful cross-country airplane consistently, you’re going to need the option to file IFR—and it will offer the pilot the ability to get to most destinations more quickly. Popular higher-performance airplanes, like the Bonanza, Mooney M20, Cirrus SR22—and even the Piper Arrow—all allow pilots to climb to higher altitudes, which means there will be more opportunities to run into instrument meteorological conditions during any phase of the flight.

Aside from just the instrument rating, complex airplanes with retractable landing gear, variable pitch propellers, turbochargers, pressurization systems, and even a second engine all mean there are other levels of complexity to master. Those all need someone at the yoke who can handle emergencies if things go wrong. It gets even trickier if the airplane is older with less modern instruments or equipment.

So, as my friend discovered, her airplane-buying options were seriously limited, once she took insurance into the equation—and in her case, until she earned her instrument rating. She had to overcome that first, so she tapped me to help her prepare for her check ride. The first question we needed to answer was, was it practical for her to train in the airplane she wanted to buy, or should she try to complete the certificate in another model? Well, most pilots with an instrument rating will agree that the thinking—and the speed at which that thinking needs to happen to stay ahead of an approach—isn’t intuitive. Consequently, being in a fast aircraft with additional complexities makes it easier to be overwhelmed.

Ultimately, we determined it would be better for her to master the core skills, as much as practical, first on the ground with available simulators or even mobile applications, and then in a slower airplane, such as a Cessna172. After she had truly mastered the skills needed to execute all phases of instrument flight independently and consistently, it would be easier to move up.

Here’s the other thing. Even after my friend gained her instrument rating and could purchase her aircraft, another challenge awaited. She would discover that her insurance rate would be much higher because she didn’t have enough pilot-in-command experience in the make and model. To lower her rate, she’d probably have to fly with an equally or higher-rated pilot who could support her and be on her policy. And, it would help if that person was an instructor.

Most likely, if there is transition training available for the airplane, as some pilot groups of the airplane manufacturer offer, she’d need to complete that too, to get the insurance benefits at a cheaper price. For newer airplanes, some manufacturers, like Cirrus, have established training programs to get owners up to speed to lessen the insurance burden, and if you have the means, it is worthwhile to consider.

So, where did that leave my friend? It was clear that adding an instrument rating would only enhance her flying experience. She’d be able to enjoy more destinations with her friends and worry less about getting stranded or worse, scud-running to avoid marginal weather. Moreover, she discovered that overall, more training would ultimately lower her costs of purchasing and operating bigger, faster, and more powerful airplanes. Frankly, who wouldn’t want that?

The post Moving on Up appeared first on FLYING Magazine.