Another trip, and complaining about insurance
My brain is kind of fried from school this week, so I couldn’t think of an interesting title for this blog.
Last weekend I flew over to Portland to be in my former roommate’s wedding. I don’t generally believe in using small aircraft for serious transportation, rather than pleasure, but my trip worked out alright. I was bucking 20 knot headwinds the entire way, so I wasn’t gaining much time versus driving, but at least it was fun.
I was also pleasantly surprised to find PDX practically deserted when I landed. Every other time I’ve been in there it’s been a madhouse, so having a smooth arrival was a good way to start the weekend.
On Sunday, before I headed home, I called up my old instructor and offered to take him flying. He’s a first officer flying CRJ-700s for Horizon Airlines (Alaska Airlines’ regional airline) now and has about 2500 hours I think. Nearly 100 of those hours came from flying with me four years ago though. He did my entire instrument training and most of my single engine commercial training with me.
We had a blast. It was a great feeling to be flying together for the first time in years. It was also a bit of a strange feeling to have the tables turned for a change. Last time I flew with him, he was the almighty instructor who could make the plane do whatever he wanted, while I struggled my way through learning soft field landings in an Arrow. This time around, I was coaching him through tailwheel takeoffs and reminding him of what regs applied to VFR traffic.
It’s funny how the student/instructor relationship gradually morphs over the years in to nothing more than a couple friends flying together. Both of us are very proficient in our respective areas now and it struck me how far we’ve both come over time. Neither of us is “above” the other anymore. Now we’re a couple professional pilots who can both learn from each other.
But beyond all those deep thoughts, it was straight up fun to see my friend flying VFR in a small plane again, for the first time in years. He had a huge grin on his face and kept saying, “Wow, this is SO much fun! This is SO slow!” That proves he’s a true aviation geek, not some dumb jet jockey.
Here are some pictures from the weekend. As I’m used to, flying through dreary weather in the Columbia River Gorge:
I hung out and took pictures while my old instructor gave me a tour of downtown Portland:
I aimed the camera over my shoulder and took a few pics as I lifted off out of PDX on my trip home:
The return flight through the Gorge on Sunday night couldn’t have been more beautiful, this time with a 25 knot tailwind pushing me along at 110 knots across the ground:
Someday I’ll own an open cockpit biplane. In the mean time, I’ll settle for cruising on a nice night with the windows open:
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Unfortunately, I found out this week that it’s not financially possible to get my plane insured for teaching in it. The best underwriter bid $4800/year in premiums, with a $5000 deductible. Pay that for a $20,000 plane? I don’t think so. It’s just not worth it. I figured I’d have to charge about $150/hour to even come close to breaking even, and nobody is going to pay that for instruction in a Cessna 140.
Maybe if I get an overwhelming demand (25+ students/year) in the future I’ll get the commercial insurance, but I doubt that will happen.
But that’s ok, I guess. I still love flying it for my own recreation.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering, no, I won’t teach in it without insurance. I don’t care about the hull value nearly as much as my personal liability. What happens if a student loses it on landing, swerves off the runway, and totals somebody’s $300,000 Bonanza in the parking area? What happens if a student puts it up on its nose, puts their head through the dash, and runs up a $100,000 medical bill?
It would financially ruin me for years to come if I didn’t have liability insurance.
Of course, a lot of pilots whine and complain about insurance companies running the aviation industry nowadays, but I don’t blame the underwriters–they’re only crunching numbers and placing bets. The fact is, aviation is a high-risk area. It might not be high-risk in the sense of being physically dangerous (I wouldn’t be a pilot if I thought I was likely to die!), but it’s high-risk in the sense that there is a lot of money flying around that could develop in to very expensive lawsuits.
If I pay $5000/year in premiums, what are the chances that I’ll have a $50,000 claim in the next ten years? Statistically, quite high actually. The insurance companies are making a profit, but I doubt it’s a big one.
It’s sort of a depressing reality, but that’s just the way it is.