Flying for Fun and for Money

It sounds like I have a decent shot at landing a summer internship with that famous four letter aviation association you’ve probably heard of. You know, the one that has more than 400,000 members and represents many of the pilots and aircraft owners in the country.

As a requirement for my communication degree from college, I need to complete an internship related to the communication industry. The criteria is fairly broad, actually. It can be related to writing, editing, marketing, web develoment, public speaking, public relations, or anything of that nature.

A few weeks ago I got the idea to see if the AOPA might be able to use me. I contacted their human resources department and sent in my resume.

This afternoon, a staff member from their human resources department called me back to let me know she had received my resume and forwarded it on to three different areas that might be interested in me.

One potential job would be assisting in the development of aviation safety material for the Air Safety Foundation. Another possible option is to work as an editorial assistant in their publications department, helping to fact check and copyedit AOPA magazines before going in to print. A third option involves work with their government affairs division.

It sounds like I’m a strong enough candidate to have a shot at something with them. I’m not sure if I’ll get multiple offers, but I’m hoping to be offered a position from at least one of those three possibilities.

Needless to say, I’m very excited. All of the jobs sound fascinating, I completely believe in the mission of the association, and each of the internships could lead to full time employment in the future. It’ll be a few months before I know more, but it sounds like I’m off to a good start.

I’ve said for some time now that I’m planning to establish a career as a professional pilot as soon as I finish college, but I’m open to other ideas if something better were to come along. Up until now, I haven’t found anything better. AOPA might change my mind though…

I had a unique flying experience last night…

A friend of mine (Keri) had a friend visiting her this week. This friend of Keri’s came all the way over from Norway to hang out for a while. His name is Joar. That’s pronounced like “You are” in case you’re like me and aren’t fluent in Norwegian.

So Keri, Joar, some other friends, and I headed out to Red Robin last night to chill for a while and get some of their fantastic burgers. Keri had told Joar earlier that I am a pilot, so I offered to take him flying sometime before he left to return home to Norway.

After dinner we started talking about when to go flying and it didn’t seem like our schedules lined up very well. Finally I just thought, “Hey, why not go right now?” It was almost 10 p.m., but I’m a night owl, I don’t mind staying out late.

So we headed to the airport to go flying.

On the drive out, we got chatting about about flying and the differences between American and European aviation.

Joar confirmed what I’ve heard from many others, how there isn’t much general aviation in Europe. What little there is only exists among very wealthy people. I guess that’s understandable–considering the price of regular auto gas is $8/gallon in Norway, I can’t imagine how expensive 100LL must be.

It made me that much happier to take him flying, knowing he might not have a chance to experience aviation the way many Americans can. I love taking new people flying, but flying with a European guy is icing on the cake.

It also reminded me of how amazing of a system we have here in the U.S. A lot of times American pilots, myself included, get so caught up with complaining about the price of insurance, gas, stupid TSA security rules, privatized ATC, etc. that we lose sight of how fortunate we are to be flying in the United States.

We have *so* much freedom here that we forget about. By the time we got my plane fired up the control tower had closed for the night, so it was just a matter of taxiing out across this big Class C airport, announcing our takeoff, and blasting off in to the night.

Joar was surprised at how easy and simple it all was. Drive up to a hangar, pull the plane out, and go flying. Go where we want, when we want. Simple as driving a car. And really, that’s how 90% of general aviation flying in America still is. Oh, and a regular guy like me, making less than $25k/year, can afford it, to. That’s pretty sweet.

I let him take the controls and we just cruised around for half an hour, checking out the sights of Lincoln from the air. It couldn’t have been more peaceful up there, drifting around over the city on a clear, calm winter night with the glow of street lights underneath us.

Oh, and another perk of taking him flying? He said he’d show me around his hometown in Norway whenever I get a chance to head over there. Hopefully I’ll be able to take him up on his offer some day.

Here we are, after putting the plane away on another frigid (15 degree) December night in Nebraska:

Have fun, and stay warm out there!

I finally took my 140 up again yesterday after not flying it for nearly a month.

Why the downtime? Aside from getting busy with work and school, my plane was in the shop for a couple weeks.

It all started when I decided to upgrade my electrical system and convert all the fuses over to circuit breakers. I had had problems of blowing a fuse if I turned on my beacon, strobes, nav lights, panel lights, and comm radio simultaneously. Obviously it was too much for the fuse to handle, so this essentially prevented me from flying to towered airports after dark, and honestly, there were enough other little gremlins that I simply didn’t trust it to fly after dark, in general.

My shop split the four fuses in to nine circuit breakers which makes a world of difference. Now I can safely run everything simultaneously, and even if a breaker pops, I only lose one or two components, rather than a quarter of the entire electrical system!

In addition to the circuit breakers, the shop installed a 12 volt auxillary power outlet so I can plug in things like a portable GPS. They also did a rheostat (dimmer switch) for the panel lights, so flying at night is a lot easier on my eyes now. Finally, I can safely and comfortably fly at night!

Here is what the new panel looks like. I’m very pleased with how they matched the “look and feel” of the rest of the panel:

I couldn’t wait to take it up for a test flight! Everything worked well, except for the frigid temperature outside. Remember that I bought this plane in April, so this is the first time I’ve flown it in cold weather. My oil temp never showed anything higher than 110 degrees. My heater kept my feet from freezing, but I definitely kept my jacket on. I could see my breath in the cockpit, even with the heat at full blast. The outside air temperature showed 15 degrees F at 3500 feet MSL:

I’d been wanting to visit a little private strip to the east of Lincoln, near Weeping Water, Nebraska, for a long time now, so that’s where I headed. The airport is called Browns Airport (NE69) and it’s the home base for the Lincoln Sport Parachute Club. I know the chief pilot for the drop zone, so he gave me permission to fly in whenever I want:

There is a 2200 foot long north/south grass runway, along with a 1400 foot long southeast/northwest grass/dirt runway/taxiway. I couldn’t figure out what the heck that second strip of land was considered, if it’s actually used as a runway or not, although Airnav lists it officially as a runway. I wasn’t willing to use it as more than a taxiway.

Both runways are noticeably sloped with obstacles all around, so I ended up going around twice before setting up a decent approach and putting it down right where I wanted it, on runway 35. Like I said, it had been a month since I flew my plane last and I forgot just how long I can keep it in the air. I kept coming in high and fast until I got it right the third time around. Sloppy flying is not acceptable at this airport!

Here I am, parked in front of the main buildings:

Since it’s the off season and late in the day, nobody was around, as far as I could tell. All the buildings were locked up and the parking lot was empty. So I took some pictures and headed back out:

Taxiing on the southeast bound runway/taxiway:

Lined up and ready to depart runway 35. This is an upsloping runway, but the winds were calm, the air was cold, and I was lightweight. I got off the ground in the first 1000 feet and crossed the departure end at least 100 feet in the air:

That’s all for now. Hopefully I’ll have some more adventures to post later.

I apologize for my last few blogs being pure text. Text is boring. To make up for it, I’ve decided to go the other direction with this blog and post a video. A friend and I took my plane out to a little country airport in the middle of nowhere and had some fun videotaping takeoffs, landings, and low passes. This is what we came up with:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-cw4iYk4z8

Have fun, and fly safe out there!

While working at my skydiving job this afternoon, the boss caught me between loads and complimented me on how pleased he’d been with my work for him.

I was flattered and a bit surprised.  I didn’t think I’d done anything out of the ordinary for him.

What surprised me most, however, was the reason for the compliment.  His kind words didn’t originate from me always coming in early, doing careful preflights, or learning the best jump line for the day–they came from my smooth flying.

Apparently some of the tandem instructors had been impressed at how smoothly I fly.  Smooth flying keeps the students relaxed, makes it easier to spot the drop zone, etc.  It’s simply more enjoyable in general.

Smooth flying isn’t even something I consciously think about anymore.  I just do it.  I’d feel weird if I didn’t fly smoothly.  It’s part of the job.  It’s part of every professional pilot’s job.

All through my flight training, my instructors kept stressing passenger comfort.  Don’t bank too quickly or too steeply.  Stay coordinated.  Make pitch changes slowly and gently.  Don’t allow the plane to “bubble” or “sink” with the extension or retraction of flaps.  Never jam the throttle in or yank it back.  Plan descent rates in advance.

Basically, every change in movement or sound should be as subtle and indetectable as possible.

So that’s what I do.  It’s nothing especially difficult, just an attitude the pilot has to ingrain in himself.  Flying is a dance, not a wrestling match.  It’s a fine symphony, not an off-key garage band.  The little details matter.

Apparently some of the other jump pilots never had this approach stressed during their training.  Sometimes I take it for granted that every professional pilot is smooth, but I guess it hasn’t always worked that way for some of their jump pilots.

Simply put, my point is this:  smooth flying will impress people.  It doesn’t matter how well you can navigate or talk on the radios if you’re constantly throwing people around in the cabin.  Learn to fly smooth and you’ll stick out from the crowd, guaranteed.  It doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it is.

The other night I met a guy who is learning to fly near me.  Really nice guy, almost ready for his private pilot checkride.

I forget how it got brought up, but he started talking to me about my pay rate for freelance flight instructing.  When I told him I charge $45/hour, he bluntly told me even the most experienced guys in this area only charge $35/hour.  He said I would never make it as an instructor around here unless I lower my rates.

I responded that although I love teaching, that’s fine with me if students go elsewhere over the $10/hour price difference.  I’ve set what I consider to be a fair rate, and I’d rather not instruct for less.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to explain myself further.

This got me to thinking, from an outsider’s perspective (an outsider being a student, or anybody who is not a flight instructor), it might be hard to understand why we instructors set rates the way we do.

Please let me explain.

First, it’s important to understand the role a flight instructor plays in the process of learning to fly.  The CFI must be thorough, dedicated, and technically proficient.  They are ultimately responsible for the safety of every flight.  There is a huge amount of liability associated with every flight.  Not only that, but they are responsible for the safety of the student *after* the process of flight training is completed–the lessons learned with that instructor directly affect how safe of a pilot that student becomes in the long run.

Basically, this is a *huge* responsibility!  It’s vitally important to have a flight instructor who is not just “building time” but actually cares about teaching, and teaching well.  Although cost and efficiency play roles here, safety is the absolutely critical element.  I take my teaching very personally–at the risk of sounding melodramatic, lives depend on how good of a job I do.

In addition to the safety aspect of teaching, the flight instructor must be a person who “clicks” with the student both in and out of the cockpit.  From a student’s perspective, there is nothing worse than trying to learn from an instructor they can’t get along with.  Maybe the CFI is irritable, demeaning, or just plain hard to understand.  Everybody learns in different ways and sometimes a CFI has a hard time figuring out what teaching methods make the most sense to a student.  Whatever the case, learning is greatly hindered when the student and teacher don’t see eye to eye.

Finally, no matter how great of a teacher a CFI might be, the logistics of learning to fly must not be forgotten.  The CFI must have time on their schedule to spend with the student.  The greatest CFI in the world is of little use if they can only schedule one lesson per month.

Now, getting back to this issue of flight instructor fees, and how I set mine…

I’ll start by saying I fit all of the criteria I just outlined.  I’ve been doing this for three years and am very proficient/safe.  I also work hard to get along with everyone I meet and find ways for my students to learn as quickly and easily as possible.  I don’t want to brag, but frankly, I’m a good teacher.

And available?  Yep, I’ve got that, too.  I have a very flexible schedule and can fly with somebody as much as they want.

So knowing that I’m a high quality instructor, I asked myself, can any old Joe Schmoe do my job?  Not really.  That means I must be at least somewhat in demand.

Then I thought, do I need the flight hours?  Not really.  Therefore, I can set my rates with little regard for the fact that the higher the rate, the less I will fly (incidentally, that’s not to be confused with the inverse…lower rates do not necessarily mean I’ll be overwhelmed with business).

Next, I thought, do I need the money?  Not really.  I’m fortunate enough to be at a point in my life with low expenditures and money in the bank.  I don’t *have* to have a high income in order to survive.  If a few people are turned away by supposedly high rates, I’ll still be fine.

Finally, I came to the be-all end-all question:  What am I worth?  What is my expertise worth?  What is my responsibility (and the liability that comes along with it) worth?  At what point will I say to myself, “Nah, this amount of money isn’t worth the hassle?”

Considering my skills, amount of effort required, and liability involved, I decided on $45/hr.  Considering auto mechanics, plumbers, and personal trainers oftentimes make $50/hr, I don’t see anything unreasonable about that number.

If a prospective student opts to fly with another instructor for no reason other than the price difference, that’s ok with me.  In fact, I wish them well.  If the other instructor is just as sharp, personable, professional, and available as me, there’d be no reason not to use them!

However, if the student runs in to problems, but doesn’t want to switch because of the price difference, that seems to be a bit penny wise and pound foolish.  When adding only a few hours on to their total training time costs them hundreds of dollars (plane rental + instructor), it’s important to have everything run smoothly during training.  Even a small delay can make the $10/hr difference in instructors quickly evaporate.

Basically, students should be careful not to look at specific dollar figures when choosing an instructor.  It’s better to interview them, fly with them, and go with whichever instructor they feel best about, regardless of money.  When a person opts to train with me, I make sure they get their money’s worth.  Need I say more?

The strangest thought hit me yesterday.  As I sat at my computer, aimlessly checking my e-mail and reading the forums at Jetcareers.com, I thought, “I wonder if I meet the minimums for humanitarian flying?”

I have no idea where the thought came from.  I pulled up Google and started searching for information on companies that do humanitarian flying.  I found a few blogs written by pilots working for a company called Air Serv International.  It sounds like Air Serv is a business that does contract flying in developing nations–sort of like Blackwater working in Iraq, except they help people instead of shoot at them?  I don’t know.  Here is Air Serv’s web site:

http://www.airserv.org/

And here is a link to the most intriguing blog:

http://nomadicpilotgeek.blogspot.com/

It’s written by a Cessna Caravan (C-208) pilot who used to work in the Democratic Republic of Congo.  There’s little information about flying in the blog, but a lot of interesting reading about the culture and politics of living in Congo.

Even though the blog authors didn’t sound very enthusiastic about their work, it sounded like an adventure I could go for someday.

I long ago ruled out mission flying for myself because it seems like every mission opportunity I’ve seen has little to do with flying and more to do with everything else.  Mission organizations want their pilots to be pilots, mechanics, nurses, pastors, and general handymen.  They have tons of responsibilities outside of flying, and they get paid pennies for it.  That’s all fine, but it’s not for me.  I don’t have any interest in working for a church.  Politics are bad enough in a regular business, but throw religion in to the mix and it gets to be even more of a pain–too many strong opinions about the way things ought to be.

Now, just living in a foreign country, making a decent living, flying, and helping people?  I could go for that.  To me, that seems to be the difference between “humanitarian” flying and “mission” flying.

So I started looking through Air Serv’s web site and discovered their minimums aren’t too high.  It’ll be a while before I meet their Twin Otter / King Air captain minimums (need 450 more hours multi time!) but I’m close to their Caravan captain minimums, and it sounds like they need pilots badly.

Maybe after I get done with school I’ll apply.  It’s tempting!

I just realized I wrote a blog several weeks ago, but never posted it.  I wrote this in the Dallas airport while waiting for my flight to Seattle when I was traveling from Lincoln, Nebraska back to Walla Walla.  I didn’t have internet at the time, then I got busy flying my plane across the country, and the blog somehow got shuffled in to the depths of my computer.

So, here you go–a blog that should be dated August 15, 2007:

———————————–

I’ve had a busy life lately.  I signed off a student for his private pilot checkride, graduated from college, went to the Hillsboro Airshow in Portland, and drove my truck halfway across the country–all in a matter of about five days.

My student, Jim, who went for his checkride, has an interesting story associated with him.  I first found him at the start of the summer, on a Saturday morning at my home airport.  I’d just taken my plane out for a spin and was tying it down when Jim wandered over to say hello.  He wanted to check out the “new” plane on the field.

As I showed him around my bird, I couldn’t help but think of how familiar he seemed.  Finally I just asked him.  “Jim, it seems like I know you from somewhere.  Have we met before?  Maybe flown together a long time ago or something?”

“Yeah, of course we have.  You were the instructor who gave me my first intro flight two years ago.  I’ll never forget that flight–we hit wake turbulence as we were coming in to land and had to go around.”

Suddenly it all came back to me!  I remembered the flight more than I remembered Jim.  It was the first, only, and hopefully last time that wake turbulence really scared me.  We got rolled about 45 degrees to the left as we were about fifty feet off the ground.  At the time, I played it cool though and apparently it didn’t scare Jim too badly, since he was still flying.

After talking for a few more minutes, Jim asked me if I was still teaching.  He needed an instructor to finish his private pilot training with.  Over the past two years since I’d seen him he had become part owner in a 1969 Cessna 150 and bounced around between freelance instructors while trying to earn his private pilot certificate.  He needed an instructor to finish off the last bit of his training.

Everything fit together perfectly for me to work with him, so that’s what we did.  After flying with him for 8 or 10 hours and doing some oral exam prep, I signed him off for a checkride.  I sat in on his oral (all three hours of it!) and must say, I was impressed.  He did really well.  Then I anxiously waited on the ground during his flight (all two hours of it!).  When it was all said and done, Jim got his license.

Here we are after flying home, Jim’s first hour as a private pilot and I as his first passenger.  No more debriefs to give, logbooks to sign, or checks to write after flying!

And here is his 150 that he trained in.  He repainted the plane himself:

I have no doubt he has many safe, happy years of flying ahead of him.  He has solid judgement and I don’t worry in the least bit about him flying around by himself.  It’s really cool for me to see his progress over the years, going from his first time at the controls, to owning his own plane, to getting signed off for his checkride.  Aviation is a small world…hopefully I’ll run in to him in the future.

———————————

Now, as for the Hillsboro Airshow in Portland, all I can say is, “Wow!”

I’ve hung around a lot of general aviation airshows before (mainly Oshkosh) but the Hillsboro show is different.  They focused a lot more heavily on military demos, especially jets.  We saw a pair of F-15s, an A-10, a KC-135, some older MiGs, and an F-117 all do routines.  Plus, best of all, the Blue Angels performed.  It was my first time seeing them and their act alone was worth the $20 admission price.

Don’t get me wrong, I still like watching civilians perform, but it’s sort of comparing apples to oranges to compare Oshkosh to Hillsboro.  There’s nothing like seeing an F-15 roar by the crowd, fifty feet off the ground and in full afterburner, or watching the Blue Angels fly by in their signature diamond formation with only 18″ to spare between planes.  I don’t care how talented Sean Tucker or Greg Poe are at performing civilian aerobatic routines…it’s still hard to beat the raw power of military aircraft.

Beyond the entertainment, I’m glad the show went for so long.  Acts were in the air non-stop from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.  I had a lot of fun to hanging out all day with friends, soaking in the atmosphere, and eating good food.

So that’s what my pictures are about here.  Anybody can take pictures of planes flying around.  But pictures of me having a good time, that’s what this blog is all about…

Here I am, giving my friend an explanation of something I’m sure required demonstration:

(To be read in a Homer Simpson voice)  Hmmmm…airshow food…

What will my next blog be about?  Flying my 140 across the country again.  This time I’m moving it from Walla Walla, Washington, to Lincoln, Nebraska.  I’ll be leaving bright and early tomorrow.  Thanks for reading!

Happy Labor Day everyone.

I just wanted to say that, contrary to what my blog may look like, I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth.  I’ve just been without internet access for a few weeks, as well as too busy to post anything even when I finally set up internet access at my house.

I moved to Lincoln, Nebraska and started school two weeks ago.  I’ve also been busy getting to know the other pilots around the Lincoln airport (KLNK) and establishing myself as a freelance instructor.

I really like the Lincoln area.  The people are friendly, the weather is nice, and the airport is busy (compared to Walla Walla!).  I already feel at home.

I’ll blog more in a the next few days as time permits.  Thanks for reading!

Last night I went out to the airport to clean my plane’s windshield and get the bugs off the leading edges of the wings.

I ran in to a friend who owns a Sonex experimental kit-built aircraft.  Here is his plane:

We had talked in the past about the Sonex’s features and how it fits a lot of my criteria for what I’d like in my next plane.  It’s cheap to buy ($35k for a decent VFR-equipped Sonex), cheap to operate (6 gph fuel flow in cruise), fast (120 KIAS cruise), has a tailwheel, and is fully aerobatic.

So this friend of mine offered to take me up for a demo flight.  It took me all of a few milliseconds to accept his offer!

Upon climbing in to this plane, it struck me as very roomy–quite a bit roomier than my 140.  Plenty of shoulder and leg room to spare.

Next, I noticed it has very poor forward visibility, especially on the ground.  I suppose I’ve been spoiled flying around in my 140 with fantastic visibility, but still, in the Sonex it’s as though you have a solid wall ahead of you.  Side windows and peripheral vision are used for takeoff and landing.  Even in level cruise flight the forward visibility is poor, but the outstanding side visibility makes up for it.

Third, I noticed everything is just a little “weird” in the cockpit.  Maybe it’s because this was my first time in an experimental aircraft, but it really stuck out like a sore thumb to me.  There is only one control stick, located between the seats.  The throttle and elevator trim are mounted to the extreme left side of the panel, rather than in the center.  The fuel shutoff valve is foot-actuated and located above the rudder pedals.  Everything felt a little hodge-podge and nonstandard.  I could probably get used to it, but that’s what I first noticed.  I could tell it had been assembled in some guy’s garage.

So we took off and flew around for a bit.  After a few minutes in the practice area, my friend let me take the stick and play around with it.  Stick forces seemed very well balanced, tight, and responsive.  I didn’t need to move the stick–I only needed to apply a slight pressure in order to roll in to tight, crisp turns.  I could see it’s aerobatic talent showing through.  I liked that a lot.

Then we flew over to Walla Walla Regional and went around the pattern a couple times.  I did one takeoff and landing.  It seemed a hair squirrelier (is that a word?  more squirrely?) than my 140, but I think I was overcontrolling it because the steering is simply so tight and responsive.

Obviously the same tailwheel dynamics apply to this plane as are present with my 140, but the Sonex didn’t give me the same gentle, slow feeling as my 140.  A takeoff in my 140 goes like this–Add power…roll….roll….roll…tailwheel slowly flies off the ground…roll…roll…work the rudder…roll…ease the mains in to the air.

In the Sonex it goes–Add power…roll…tail pops off ground…plane pops in to the air.  Fun in its own way, but not nearly as relaxing and gentle.

As for landing my 140, I’ve gotten pretty good at greasing on three pointers.  In the Sonex, every landing felt more like, “Fly, fly, fly, PLOP” no matter if I or my friend did it.  It simply didn’t feel as graceful and more “tin can-ish.”

So after doing a few laps around the Walla Walla pattern, my friend flew it back to our home airport and demo’d a couple takeoffs and landings on the grass runway before we called it a night.  I went back to cleaning my 140, pondering if a Sonex might be my next plane in a few years.

Straight up performance was obviously better.  Faster, cheaper, and aerobatic.  Who could argue with that?

But my mind kept drifting back to its homebuilt roots.  The nonstandard panel…the nonstandard controls…the cheap, lightweight construction…the “do-it-yourself” style to everything…I dunno…it felt like everything was a compromise, or not thought out as well as it could have been.

I don’t question the safety of such a design.  I’m more concerned about the possible “annoyance factor” that comes along with a seemingly cobbled together, lightweight airframe.

When it comes down to it, would I be happy flying a Sonex?  You bet.  They’re fun planes with a lot to offer.  Would I trade in my 140 for one?  Ehhh….I doubt it.  I’d rather hold out for a Citabria.  But it sure is nice to dream!