#7 - DA40 - Diamondstar

One type has to be the ‘best’, and at 1/5^th of the way to my goal that airplane is Diamond Aircraft’s DA40 – the Diamondstar.  It is also very nearly the most expensive airplane I have flown, and the most recent design.  Oh, and I have over 100 hours in it, so I am partial in part through familiarity.  This is the plane that my brother, an equally obsessed aviator, bought a month or so after he got his ticket.  The DA40 is a four place single made of fiberglass. Like the DV20 two seater it has an extremely wasp-waisted look and a t-tail.  The tip up canopy and low wing give the plane visibility like the Grumman Yankee, but the entry is far more civilized, with no stepping on the seats.  Best of all, the back seat passengers, who I am sure matter, have their very own door.  I have never been back there, but it looks quite comfortable.  The plane is powered by the fuel injected, 180hp Lycoming IO360, spinning a constant speed two bladed (or three bladed) propeller.  The plane is not considered a trainer, though with the G1000 avionics it is about the same price as a brand new Cessna 172.  Maybe at over $300k the Cessna is not a trainer anymore either. 

My brother's Diamondstar with a huge swarm of bees hoping to build a nest.  He flies too often for that to work out for them.

This plane is fast – if you run the engine hard it will do 135 knots all day long.  My brother and I flew it across country in three days, and he now makes that trip every summer.  The avionics are state of the art, with a huge primary flight display in front of the pilot and an equally large multi function display in front of the right seat.  The version I have flown has the KAP140 autopilot, rightly considered a distant second best to the Garmin model.  Nevertheless it will fly a coupled approach and with the WAAS upgrade the plane is a very capable light IFR machine.  It is really best to stay well away from ice in this slick beast as there are not even options for dealing with inadvertent encounters…unless you think ascending, descending or cursing are effective options.  The cockpit is quite roomy and, in sunny southern California, an excellent place to grow tomatoes in the winter.  If you can afford this airplane get a few collapsible sun shades to stick to the bubble, it will obscure some of the view, but you will not feel quite so Rudyard Kipling in India. 

Flying the DA40 is a total blast.  First of all, it has a joystick…yep, no car-like wheel sitting up front, it is fighter pilot all the way.  This critter is a blown up DV20 and so it shares the motorglider heritage.  This is most easily seen in the very bright lines that DA40 owners paint on the floor of their hangers…the wings are so long that a foot of air between wing and hanger door is the norm.  These long wings mean the plane LOVES to fly.  If you get fast on final you are going to be touching down well past the Thai restaurant; and you may be thinking about taking another crack at it as you realize 2000 feet of runway are sitting behind you and the wheels are still a few inches above tarmac.  Takeoffs, even with 4 full seats and a lot of fuel are fun, with plenty of climb and a deck angle that still leaves you good visibility.  The font office is nothing short of intimidating if all you have flown are steam gauges.  The G1000 is all glass and though I find it intuitive to use I have watched other folks really lose track of the plane as they tried to figure out how to jump to a new leg on a flight plan, find the local flight service station frequency, or calculate the true airspeed.  There are not that many buttons and knobs, but one in particular can be turned, pushed and tilted in any direction.  That makes for a steep learning curve and a very fast loss of familiarization.  I feel like a year off of steam gauges would not render me useless, but a similar time away from the G1000 and I would probably be better off just flying with my iPad and ignoring all the buttons. 

I have had a number of really memorable flights in this airplane and I can’t say that it has even a single bad flight characteristic.  I wish the seats leaned back, the trim wheel could be a little larger, and the glare shield could use a better anti-vibration system, but if you can afford this airplane you should get it. It will run lean of peak at 7 gph and 128 knots and seems to cost no more to annual than a newer 172.  It is also an intuitive airplane to fly, or at least it was for me.  That actually almost got us in real trouble when my brother bought the plane. I drove to Long Beach to meet Robert, the salesman and fly the as yet unpurchased airplane to Santa Monica to pick up my brother.  His business and half his life was in Las Vegas at the time and so for tax reasons he would take formal delivery of the plane at North Las Vegas airport.  I flew left seat up from Long Beach and between some experience in the DC20, a lot of reading about the G1000, and plain dumb luck I flew the plane pretty well.  Robert was particularly impressed with the landing, which saw the wheels touch smoothly down on the 1000 foot markers, exactly where I had intended.  Robert had flown with my brother when selling the airplane and recognized that Colin is one of those rare natural aviators who seems to instinctively understand how the plane will behave.  When we stopped at the restaurant to pick up Colin Robert and I got out and he walked around to get in the back.  I asked whether he wanted to fly right seat and he said that it seemed to him that we were perfectly qualified to take the plane to Vegas. 

Perhaps qualified, but were we insured?  I did not ask, I do not turn down flight time ever, and certainly not in a plane as nice as this one.  So, with Robert, the flight instructor and owner’s representative seated well away from the controls we headed to Vegas.  It was a perfect flight. Colin and I fly well together, handing off control with clarity and ease, and picking up the non-flying duties seamlessly.  We were in rare form, especially given that neither one of us had 100 hours or more than eight in type.  We made not a single bobble or minor error on that flight, we made every radio call, had a clear understanding of engine parameters and kept well ahead of the plane the whole way.  Colin took the landing, and as I always do, I followed through.  It may be a bit rude, but I almost always follow along as I land in a small plane, I like to feel how other people land and I suppose I am looking out for that short final stroke.  Well, it was not too hot and there was not much turbulence, Colin had the plane stable and right on speed as we hit short final.  The nose wheel was centered perfectly and he was controlling for the slight right to left crosswind.  It was quite mysterious to me then, when he greased the landing that he then started to slowly drift left.  It was as though he was forgetting who was in charge of the plane.  I called out that he should put in right rudder…more right rudder…then I felt for the right rudder myself.  It was against the firewall and we were still doing about 20 mph and slowly turning more to the left. We departed the runway and to slow down Colin whacked one of those little runway lights.  Just as he was deciding when to further slow us by whacking one of those great big runway signs the plane came to a stop.  Colin immediately goosed the engine a bit in an attempt to get back on the runway, but it was clear something was amiss so he shut down. 

Robert was a little bummed. When we exited the airplane it became clear that the left main tire was flat…and the wheel pant was somewhat smashed from Colin’s excellent aim at the runway light.  Robert, a little bit downcast, explained that you simply cannot hit the brakes while the flaps are deployed.  It will flat spot and burst a tire in a heartbeat because with flaps in there is little weight on the wheels.  Since I was running flaps and Colin was running brakes the thought was that we had gotten out of synch.  I supposed it was possible, but it sure didn’t feel right.  The plane never tracked straight, not from the moment we landed.  Colin is not a fellow who leans on the brakes, he flies and lands very smoothly, letting the plane slow down on its own and using the brakes once the plane is going quite slow.  But, maybe he had a spasm, or a twitch.  In any case, we now had a flat tire and smashed wheel pant on an airplane that Colin did not yet own.  The check in his pocket was not actually signed.  Hmmm.  Well, we called the FBO and the came and towed us off the runway.  We headed off to get food and talk about the value of a somewhat dinged up brand new plane. 

Robert and Colin worked it all out over lunch and the check changed hands.  The FBO put on a new tire and removed both wheel pants.  We headed back to the airport to discover something interesting.  The AP who had worked on the plane had a souvenir for Colin.  An inch long piece of stiff steel wire that was found in the inner tube of the tire.  Apparently the brush used to clean the wheel must have shed the wire during the original assembly in Canada.  The wire sat there and worked its way from the wheel surface through the inner tube and while we were flying to Vegas all the air was leaking out of the tire through that little hole.  Suddenly Robert was not so downcast, Colin was not kicking himself and I was a lot less mystified.  All in all Colin did a hell of job missing big, off runway obstacles, and we all agreed that a flat tire on landing is a difficult row to hoe even if you know it is flat.  As a grand surprise it is a tall order indeed. 

The very best thing about the DA40 is that it has been around for 10 years or so now and there is a reasonable used market.  They were made without the G1000 at first and a steam gauge model can be a real bargain.  If you are thinking of a later model used 172 or Warrior, or even the retract versions of these, take a flight in the Diamondstar.  It is pushing down the used price of metal airplanes and it should be.  It is a better airframe, which is not too unexpected since it was designed nearly fifty years after Clyde Cessna put his stamp on the Skyhawk plans.  

#5 - DV20 - Diamond DA20 Eclipse, Katana, Evolution

The Diamond Aircraft Company, along with Cirrus and the no longer independent Columbia, has been instrumental in reinvigorating small, piston engine, general aviation.  All three companies started with a clean sheet design, using well understood, but underutilized composite materials.  Diamond, an Austrian company, had the oddest airplane parentage.  Their entry into the small plane market started out as a motor glider.  Sometimes called self launch gliders, these very long winged, lightweight two seaters, are a staple of European general aviation.  The Dimona motorglider became the Katana, a two seat trainer and that morphed into the Diamondstar, the four seat fiberglass airplane that my brother owns.  By his lights the flights in the Katana, the Evolution and the Eclipse DV20s were our first forays into the air in a real airplane.  He never really considered buying a tin plane, and the Cirrus and Diamondstar were the composite front runners from the moment he realized he was as obsessed with flying as I am.  

One of the two seater Diamonds I have flown sitting on the ramp in Santa Paula

My brother and I learned to fly together.  It is really not a practical method for most folks, since it is hard to find a training partner, but boy did it make the whole experience a blast.  We took nearly every lesson together.  The airtime was split with one of us sitting in the back seat while the other flew. Watching the other guy make a set of mistakes was really educational and it was also a huge plus to get to go on a pleasure flight as a passenger a couple of times a week.  In any case, we finished flight training a few weeks apart and set a date to get checked out in a Katana at the Torrance airport for a  celebratory hop.  What started out as a planned trip to Big Bear became a ten airport hop to practice VOR skills.  We decided to split the flying duties, swapping PIC roles after every landing.  Since it was a pain to jump in and out on every landing my career as pilot in command from the right seat was under way. 

The transition from a metal plane designed in the 50’s to an all composite airplane designed in the 80’s was not difficult but it was a big adjustment.  The very first thing you notice walling up to the Katana is the very narrow cross section of the fuselage aft of the seats.  Wasp waisted about captures the way a two person canopy swelling necks down to a round section beam that can be encircled with one arm.  This would also be my first t-tailed airframe.  The horizontal stabilizer, usually set in the middle of the cross section of rear fuselage sits up on top of the vertical stabilizer.  The clearest effect of this t-tail configuration is that the elevators, which control the pitch of the airplane are not in the prop wash and so they are not affected by increasing or decreasing power.  Bringing back the throttle as you come in to land will not drop the nose nearly as much as it will with a conventional tail.  There is no doubt that the plane is also just flat out gorgeous.  Though small, it has the flowing lines and swoopy curves of an Italian sports care.  It looks fast tied up on the line waiting for us to unleash its 80 hp Rotax engine.

Did I mention some things are a little different than we are used to?  Well the first thing you do in the Katana is make sure it will not melt while you are out gallivanting.  This entails pulling back the seat padding to reveal a section of heat sensitive color that will change a ‘no go’ red when the composite heats above a certain point. The Katana is a low wing with a tilt up canopy so entry is similar to the Grumman American Yankee.  There is very little room behind the seats for luggage as the gas tank sits below what looks like an outsides hat shelf behind the pilot and co-pilot headrests.  After firing the engine up the gearing of the Rotax made me do a double take a few times since the redline on the engine was over 5,000 rpm, a solid 2300 rpm faster that the more familiar Continental and Lycoming power plants.  The nose wheel is castering, just like the Yankee and taxing is dead simple with differential braking.  Pushing the throttle foward it is immediately clear that this airplane dearly wants to be airborn.  That will prove to be the most challenging thing about it.  Every other plane I have flown is perfectly happy to stagger into the air, but the Katana hits aflyable airspeed quickly, then it is all you can do to hold it on the ground. 

Cruise flight and navigation is very straightforward, but on landing we discovered an interesting thing.  This son of a glider does not want to stop flying.  The wings are long and thin and the airframe is very light, and the whole fuselage is remarkably well streamlined.  This means that slowing down to land is non-trivial.  If you are spot on with your approach airspeed the beast will drop softly out of the air as you crank in the small bit of nose up that counts as a flare in this plane.  When you find yourself high on final in every other plane I have flown you have a poorly explained and not often recommended option.  You can point the nose down and start picking up speed while losing altitude.  Then, because the plane is usually pretty draggy just leveling out will scrub off the speed without gaining altitude.  This is a perfectly acceptable alternative to a slip in many airplanes though it can cause palpitations in your passengers so it is not often performed.  Try a similar trick in the Katana and you will find that the plane is so well streamlined that when you pull up from your little dive the plane will maintain most of the speed leaving  you way to hot to do anything other than a low pass at the runway.  It took a bit of practice to learn that the over the fence speed had a lot tighter tolerance than in does in the other trainers I have flown. 

The Rotax engine is not the only power plant for this plane and I have flown a total of four engine configurations.  They were all pretty good on gas, much better than the other two seaters I have flown and they were all remarkably quick (130 knots/156 mph) given the tiny engine.   The used market for these planes reflects the cool factor of the composite airframe, the high cruise speed and the often sophisticated electronics.  The asking price will be 3-10 times the price of a similar quality Cessna 150/152 and I suspect that it is the availability of these lovely airplanes that keeps a lid on the resale price of the 40 year old Cessna technology. 

#4 - DR400 - Porsche Robin

There is no way that a recently minted pilot with my level of enthusiasm should be allowed out of the country until the initial private pilot ticket is well and truly scuffed up.  It is just plain irresponsible. But, a couple weeks after the check ride I had to go get some data in Germany.  Before I even left I was looking for smaller airports in the Stuttgart area.  I began shamelessly emailing flying clubs asking if I might take a ride in one of their planes. I emailed several glider clubs and one motorflugzeug club. I had only one response, and it was from a very nice fellow who said that he would take me up on Saturday if I had time. I quickly returned to that club’s website and found they were flying a Bölkow and a Robin HR200. I had never heard of the Bölkow, but I knew the Robin to be a fabric and wood airplane of French design. From the photographs I assumed that the flying club was sponsored by Porsche, since the bright red Robin had a prominent Porsche stenciled on the bow.

At the appointed hour I waited outside the institute and Andreas arrived to take me to the airport. On the way he explained that Porsche was just getting out of the airplane engine business after making a hundred or so 911 engines airworthy. The plane we were flying was one of the few Porsche powered airplanes left and after this week it would get a conventional Lycoming power plant because Porsche wanted their hardware back. 

The distinctive bent up wingtips of the Robin DR400

When we arrived at Nabern the Robin was sitting in the sun seemingly covered in children. On closer inspection it was just two rapidly moving youngsters belonging to another club member, Gerd. Before I could go flying the Robin would be used to tow a glider up into the thermals off Teck. This area is one of the world famous glider spots, with yearly appearances in the aviation rags as a competition spot. A key piece of equipment was missing – the tow-line for dragging the spindly winged glider aloft. We all (Gerd, Andreas and I) hopped into the airplane for a short trip to Hahnweide where the line might have been stowed. It was a goose chase that not only gave me a great view of Teck but also introduced me to the concept of glider avoidance. They were hanging around the steep slopes of the Swabian Alps like a kettle of vultures. We dodged them on the way there and back and then Andreas and I headed to the Schloss Neuschwanstein.

Neuschwanstein is familiar to anyone who has seen the opening of a Disney movie since Walt copied the castle for his cartoons. It is a wonderfully ornate structure of white stone and blue roofs constructed by mad king Ludwig of Bavaria in the 1850’s. Though the castle was never finished the outside is perfect and the setting, in the steep crags of the foothills of the Alps, is unbelievable.

We flew right to the castle, a journey of some 50 minutes at 220 km/hr. The whole way Andreas and I plotted our position and talked about flying. I had the opportunity to fly the plane a bit on our way back. With the tailwind we were cranking along at 240 km/hr and the plane handled really nicely. I did not try any steep turns, but when we circled the castle Andreas had her right up on her right wing so I could get a look. It was a 60 degree bank and we lost no altitude. Closeness of the cliffs that surround the castle were a real incentive to keep the bank in.

We flew back to Nabern, a grass strip at the edge of the Swabian Alps and Andreas made a very nice landing. At some point during the pizza dinner we enjoyed at the airport Andreas mentioned that he had been taking English lessons with his wife every Monday for 8 years. The lessons surely worked because we had no difficulty in understanding each other. He went on to say that the only reason he emailed me back about flying was that his teacher insisted it was good homework. I was the first native English speaker with whom he had conversed.

Andreas wrote me that the Porsche engine is out of the plane and the Lycoming plan is dead. They will sell the DR400 and buy a new plane. It was a real treat to take the Porsche on its last flight and I hope the club gets a new plane soon because I am coming back to Germany in the spring.

#3 - C150 - The Commuter

It’s pretty clear from reading the flying magazines, and watching the graph of active pilots make like the S&P 500, that there is a problem with recruiting new pilots.  The vast majority of the pundits put the blame for both the huge attrition rate and the low numbers who start lessons on the high cost of flight.  It’s true that learning to fly is not cheap, but I suspect the problem is compounded by the near complete lack of sensible training curricula.  There are a few national flight training companies, like American Flyers, who have spent some time developing a recipe for primary instruction, but even with their offerings we are in the dark ages of learning to fly. 

Dan explaining to Luke that the big vertical swingy thing is really important and should be well attached to the airframe. 

SCUBA diving was in a similar state 40 years ago and PADI, a strong certification agency (with a VERY healthy profit motive), changed the face of diving and made it accessible to every person who could spell cruise ship.  The truth is, flying is not hard.  It really isn’t…and it is getting easier.  The whole navigation thing for example, has become trivial just in the time I have been flying.  There are a lot of things to keep track of when flying and they range from brain work, like communicating on the radio and figuring out where you will be in five minutes, to the pure hand eye of keeping the plane in level flight on a particular heading.  But, none of these tasks is beyond a reasonably bright ten year old.  Just spend half an hour watching a pair of grade schoolers work the joystick plus button field of a video game controller.  If they were playing a flight simulator hooked up to a real UAV they would be flying a Predator through the Holland Tunnel after 30 minutes.  The problem with flight training is that it is capricious, arbitrary and has a very poorly thought out combination of flying, ground school and homework.  

Flying is awesome fun…it just is.  It should sell itself as a leisure activity even if it is more expensive than skiing.  Ground school is not fun at all and the homework is insanely boring.  We need some pro education folks who care about and love flying to figure out the equivalent of the PADI method for learning to fly.  As much as possible of the groundwork needs to be laid at home, on computers, hardwiring skills that will make the cockpit an instantly interesting and understandable place.  After a first flight with stalls, steep turns and landings, the second flight should be a cross country and the third through fifth should be 15 landings each.  Then solo.  My grandfather soloed in 5 hours.  This was not unusual in the first world war and rumor has it that those airplanes were a tad less forgiving that the ones we fly now.  Of course he did break off the landing gear on his third solo landing, so there is a downside to getting in a squirrely plane too early. Flying isn’t hard, as WEB Griffin was fond of writing NASA taught a few chimps to fly.  We need a method to get people into the air quickly an easily so they spend their money buying an airplane rather than a PPL. 

Barring that, everyone needs to learn to fly from Dan.  Preferably in a Cessna 150.  I had 9 flight instructors on the way to getting my private pilot’s license in about 70 hours.  I ended up finishing with the one I started with but that was purely a matter of logistics rather than inclination.  Had Dan lived in southern California I would have take 40 hours and had three instructors.  I was about 22 hours in to learning to fly and had soloed the P28A Warrior when I had to move north to the island to teach for the summer.  I was already completely addicted, so there was no way I would go without flying.  I figured I would take a lesson or two so I did not lose ground.  I ended up finding the ultimate primary flight instructor and flying one of the most fun types there is.  Looking back at my log book to get this right, I flew 2.3 hours with Dan in the 150 before he let me loose on my own.  That means that not only did he get me to transition from high wing to low and four seater to two seater, but he also got confident enough in my ability to land the thing that he was willing to let me go on my own.  16 landings.  Dan managed to teach me a ton during those landings all the while evaluating me for solo potential.  I am in awe.  So is my father in law, who is training with Dan now. 

The Cessna 150 was built as a trainer - a two seat, tricycle gear, stable beast with a tiny engine.  For some reason it was given the name commuter, though it is hard to believe that many served in this role.  The side by side seating is cramped, and it is not the airplane for the vertically well endowed.  At 6’1” I would say I am within an inch or two of needing to fly without a headset.  Like the Skyhawk, the 150 is a very ordinary plane, and that is a real strength when you are learning to fly.  It simply does not have any surprising or bad habits.  The most difficult thing about it is what made the plane worth returning to long after I learned to fly.  It is really light and is at the mercy of every gust or wind, every burble, rotator and swirl will kick the plane a little in one direction or another.  There is not much that is more fun that landing the 150 in a 20 knot 45 degree crosswind at an airport like KFHR that has some structure around the runway.  It was the first plane that really reinforced the three dimensionality of flying because on short final a lump in the air could perturb several axes (roll, pitch and yaw) all at once.  Where the Warrior and Skyhawk plow down the approach corridor, nose dropping or rising with gusts, the 150 will suddenly be pointing 20 degrees down and 45 degrees right with the left wing low.  All from one bump.  It is a total joy to get to the point where dancing on the rudder pedals and swinging the yoke will keep this little dragonfly headed straight down the pipe towards the numbers. 

This great little plane is not all about training either.  If I had an average mission with fewer seats it is hard to think of a more economical solution to the transport problem in a place like the San Juan Islands.  Flights are rarely more than an hour.  With reserve fuel that means you need 14 gallons.  That leaves room for fat guys and sides of beef in the baggage compartment.  Perhaps my most memorable flight in the 150, and a flight that hooked a colleague on flying, was a night return from Boeing field (KBFI) to Friday Harbor (KFHR).  It was a moonless summer night, so clear you could read the Flight Guide by starlight.  I picked up Stas at midnight after his 16 hour flight from Germany in the heavy iron.  His bags in the back plus a little extra fuel for night flight over water peace of mind, left us somewhere between max gross weight and, well, let’s just call it max gross weight.  Thanks goodness in the Pacific Northwet the summer nights are cool.  We waddled down the 10,000 foot runway at Boeing and started the 75 foot per minute ascent to 3500 feet.  I flew us from town to town up the coast, each little burg a scattering of lighted jewels that begged for Thomas Kincaid to put up his easel.  The big, forbidding dark areas were intimidating, but also a wonderful contrast to the well lit land.  We made a 4 mile crossing over water around Anacortes and approached Friday Harbor from the East.  The town was well lit and a ferry rested at the wharf for the night.   As we dropped down to 1100 feet over Brown Island I clicked the mic to light up the runway.  The pretty blue and white lights popped magically to life and Stas auibly gasped before offering (in his endearing Ukrainian Accent) that it was like we were millionaires returning to OUR airport for the night.  It was a special feeling as we dropped onto the runway as lightly as thistledown and rolled towards the 34 end.  I turned off and said ‘that’s what I love about flying’…and it is.  Controlling a well thought out airframe as it does its job is crystal meth for the thinking set.  What a total blast. 

So, a perfectly reasonable 150 will set you back $15-20,000 and will be as inexpensive to run as a large SUV.  How can you not go out and buy an airplane when there are hundreds of these available for sale?  

#6 - C172 - Cessna's Skyhawk

I first flew the 172 early in my flight training.  I was slow student and I was interested in whether my speed of progression had to do with my inherent lack of ability or a shortcoming of my primary instructor.  This led me to try several other instructors and the airplanes they came with. Perhaps it was this early exposure to a variety of airplanes that has made me agnostic in the high wing/low wing debate, the metal vs. composite discourse and the pleasant ripostes exchanged over the importance of a glass panel.  I am an enthusiastic member of the group that views any conveyance that can be made to become airborne, even if only briefly, is just a fantastic device, worthy of praise, admiration and constant use.  I don’t remember much about that first Skyhawk, but it was a 180 hp carbureted version and my impression was that it was more powerful than my usual trainer.  I know it sounds crazy, but I had not embraced the importance of horsepower at that point.  I was so impressed at getting into the air that I would not have been able to tell an O-300 from a TSIO-550.  That the 180 hp 172 was meatier than the 150hp P28A was a matter of feel rather than fact.  Anyway, that plane is not the one I would write about when describing the Skyhawk because I own one and have since 2009.

My usual ride next to its refueling bird.  The Ohio National Guard were at the edge of their ambit when I  parked next to them at Boeing Field.

I will not wax poetic about the bird just because I happen to have put a few hundred hours on it.  I have no romanticized notion that it is the very best plane, or even the best plane for my mission.  It is a good plane, moreover it has been an exceedingly inexpensive plane, and that my friends is an unusual characteristic worthy of thought.  My bird is a 1968 172G with the original O-300 engine that has been field overhauled once.  At 1800 hours the TBO is laughably short, and mine is now at 2150 and still looking good.  I love my airplane, warts and all, mostly because it fulfills exactly the role that I had envisioned when I was pining for a plane.  It is always there, ready to take me away.  My headset is sitting where I left it.  My sunglasses are on the glare shield.  The spare batteries for the intercom are in the seat back pocket, or, if they are not it is all my fault.  The tires are pumped because I pumped them.  The oil is at 6 quarts because that is where I left it.  This sounds a bit silly, but I rented for the first 380 hours and it was always a bummer to have to get set up…to learn a new set of squawks and a new set of instruments...often a new checkout to rent from a new place.   I did 15 check rides in the first 4 years. 

I can’t afford a plane, not on any reasonable grounds.  Sure, it gets 14 miles per gallon and the straight line distance in these parts is usually about half the road miles.  So really, it gets about the same mileage as my spouse’s VW Jetta.  There are annual costs of about 1 AU ( Aeronautical Unit - $1000…very handy when speaking with other pilots in from of non-pilot parties interested in the monetary outflows associated with airplanes, especially as they relate to expensive sewing machines they might covet.)  Oil needs changing, bits needs replacing, and there is the ever rising cost of Avgas relative to Mogas.  So, even though I live on an island in one of the best places to fly in the whole world, I can’t really justify the airplane as a necessary expense.  It is on the basis of recreation, obsession, and stress relief that I figure its worth relative to my professorial salary.  On those grounds it is a complete steal. 

It helps that I got a great deal on the plane and that I have a pretty hard nosed attitude about buying things for it.  The engine is over time and that is fine with me.  I hear and read about people repowering the plane at TBO.  Replacing this particular sort of mechanical system on a time or use basis is a poor use of resources.  There is very good data to support the concept that piston engines should be replaced and refurbished on condition.  And furthermore, it is worth investing time and money to determine the very least invasive solution to the particular failure you are seeing.   There are data to support this, it is not voodoo or faith but a firm belief in data that keeps me flying my family in a plane with an engine that’s older than my sister and a contemporary of my bother and I.  I use oil analysis every 25-30 hours and an engine monitor to warn me of impending issues.  When those problems show up I will attempt to deal with them in a calm and rational manner.  This will be aided and abetted by an anemic checking account and a spouse who finds comfort in a quilting fabric stash sufficient to clothe the entire population of our island in the event of some catastrophe that leaves them in sudden need of knickers with mod patterns.  Could I argue that a new ELT or even a good intercom system is a safety of flight issue?  Sure, but it would be disingenuous and the fact that either improvement would cast more than 10% of the purchase price of the plane acts as a restraint. 

So, who cares about flying the 172…it is reviewed everywhere, and besides, it is a boring plane with relatively crap performance.  Hold on, oh purveyor of myths, buyer of old wives tales…there are things to love about this plane.  There must be.  It is the most produced general aviation airplane because it is just flat great at what it does, not because Clyde Cessna managed to sneak a trade restraining bill past congress.  This airplane beat out every other manufacturer and the race was not even close.  My airfield is blessed with more really smart, experienced aviators than any have ever hung out at.  One of these characters was recently asserting that there were two perfect airplanes for the islands. One was not the 172.  The other was an older (O-300 powered) Skyhawk that had been given a full IO-360 180 hp upgrade.  The combination of the light airframe (relative to the later heavier 172s) and the powerful motor makes for a plane that can’t be overloaded and will nip along at 120 knots on 8.5 gallons of fuel.  Folks who were listening did not shout him down.  The plane is a solid, stable and sensible platform for VFR and light IFR flight. 

After a year and a bit I had flown 200 hours in my plane.  I was updating my logbook when I realized that I had not gone more than 100 miles from home, or above 5000 feet in that time.  I immediately jumped in the plane and went to 10,500 and flew around Mount Baker.  I still have not been more than 100 miles from home.   For this short hop commuting type of flying the 172 is a great choice.  I average 1.8 full seats an hour.  That means there is no way I could be happy with a two seater and I probably don’t really need a six seater.  I have even had five in the plane when one was a lap child. 

In case you have been living in Vero Beach, the Skyhawk is a high-wing airplane.  That has some advantages: good view below, less ground effect float when landing, a built in sun and rain shade when entering, exiting, or standing around the plane and a ‘both’ selector on the fuel tanks.  It also has disadvantages:  you can’t see where you are going when you turn, you have to climb a ladder to fuel the plane, and you will acquire a nasty gash from walking into a control surface at some point.  The seating is close, maybe not as close as a Mooney, but the 172 just does not have much shoulder room.  My smarter half likes to ride in the back because there is not enough room to knit while sitting next to me up front.  This is not terrible as my daughter is getting into the whole radio call thing. 

The plane taxis without any excitement and, at least in the case of my 145 hp powerplant, it begins a stately ground roll when the coals are put to it.  At 65-70 mphyou can rotate, or, if you are not shy of runway and enjoy the sensation, you can let the plane fly away by itself when it hits 75 mph.  The deck angle for a maximum performance (Vx) climb is too steep for passengers, visibility and engine cooling, and even Vy will leave my cylinders hotter than I like.  I settle in at a 350-400 fpm climb at 100mph and count on the slowness of the airplane to get me to a respectable altitude before I have to leave the comfort of having land below me.  I have flown a lot of airplanes where checklists are really important.  In this plane the emergency checklist is vital, but the flying checklists are so short I have them taped to the panel.  For descent you two things could kill you…you must put on carb heat (the O-300 has a bad reputation for ice) and you must enrichen the mixture.  Everything else is optional or not applicable.  The prop is fixed pitch, the gear is welded down, the turbocharger has been attached to a different airplane, and with the fuel knob on ‘both’ there are no fuel issues to contend with.  This is an easy plane to fly from the point of view of remembering things and it is just as easy when it comes to aerodynamic manners.

The 172 has had a couple of wings and I have flown them. I have also flown every one of the possible power plants with the exception of the military 195hp version.  Even the amphib 172 with the 220 hp Franklin engine is pretty much the same as the 145hp 172.  This is a very stable beast.  It has no bad habits - adverse yaw is minimal, it stalls benignly and lands easily.  In short this is a great airplane.  It does not go super fast or carry a foursome more than an hour or two, and I would be looking for new planes if I had to fly hard IFR, but for the short haul, family flier it is just as good as a plane can get.  I take four big guys to the movies and we have gas to get there and back.  With my wife we can hit Costco and fit a months worth of paper products. With my daughter I can go camping and just throw every dang thing she takes a fancy to into the back seat and luggage area.   Why yes, that is a plastic kitchen, complete with microwave and sink.  Why not bring that camping?  A good 172, that you can put 200 hours on without spending more than 1 AU in upkeep and repairs, should run you less than $25,000.  There is just no excuse not to own, the calculus for owning relative to buying has shifted down to about 65 hours a year if you are a frugal beggar like me.  Go…buy a plane.  Heck, for that price buy two. 

#2 - AA1 - Grumman/American Aviation Yankee

If you read flying magazines with any regularity you will see some great advice on how to learn to fly.  Following this advice will lead to getting your license in an expeditious and orderly fashion.  There is not an expeditious or orderly bone in my body.  Moreover, I have a serious problem with staying on task...so, about a dozen flights in to learning to fly I decided to see what it was like to have a different instructor.  Since my brother and I were learning at what amounted to a one man shop that meant I would get both a new instructor and a new airplane to learn in.  Sounded good to me.  If you want your license quickly...do not do this.  Aircraft type #2 was as different from the Piper Warrior as darts and frisbee.  The American Aviation Yankee is a two seater trainer with a fighter plane style sliding canopy and just two seats. There may be more people designing airplanes, but for all intents and purposes it feels like everything was first engineered by Burt Rutan, Roy LoPresti or Jim Bede.  The Yankee is a trainer that was built from one of Bede's earliest kits plane designs, the BD-1.  Bede was big on easy to build and fast and less concerned with easy to fly.  That makes the Yankee an unusual trainer, and I think his little jet has now killed everyone who could fly it.

This is someone else's image of the very plane I flew.  The cover was not in place while I was piloting.

Flying the Yankee is flat out fun.  It is even a hoot to get into - walk up the wing, slide back the canopy, lift the seat cushion with your toe, stand on the seat, step down into the foot well and sit down.  Then you can slide the canopy over your head and start making gun noises.  The one I flew was even painted in camouflage.  Though Tom, the instructor used the term castering nose wheel it did not sound relevant to my life.  Moreover I had no idea what he was yakking about.  I just wanted to get up in the air.  Strap on plane, fire up teeny tiny engine, call the tower and tell them to dial 9-1 and watch for me to head to the run up area, release the brakes and steer with my feet to the runway.  Well, all went as planned except that last bit.  To move side to side there is, on most planes, a big sticky up thing called a rudder. If you are sitting in a plane that is safely turned off you can swing the rudder left and right by stomping on pedals at your feet.  The plane will not move left or right, after all it is turned off and there is no wind over the rudder.  Well, even when the noisemaker out front is going, the plane will not leap side to side as you dance on the pedals unless you have some speed up.  That is where this castering nose wheel becomes important.  You see, in the other plane I had flown there was a connection between the pedals and the nose wheel.  Castering means there is no connection...the nose wheel is free to swing around wherever it wants to go.  In the case of a student pilot applying some power from a standing start that wheel wants to go straight ahead pretty much regardless of how enthusiastically the student applies foot to pedal.  Well, once Tom figured out that I was an idiot he explained that you steer with differential braking.   It is like a tank, slow down one tread and you will turn in that direction.  Cool.  A bit of a worry for the fellow preflighting about 50 feet in front of me when I started out, but you could tell by his expression that he was impressed with the lines of the Yankee. 

The panel of the AA1A was bog standard simple VFR.  Push pull engine controls and the usual, initially baffling, but ultimately transparent set of gauges. The view is anything but standard.  The canopy is entirely transparent so there is spectacular visibility in every direction but straight beneath you.  Not a bad airplane for pilots afraid of heights I suppose.  This really enhances the sense of flying and a bubble canopy is just a wonderful feature in my book. My recollection of the flight characteristics is dimmed by 5 years time, but I still distinctly remember that the plane did not accelerate well with two 200 pound plus people in it. But, once in the air it was a total joy.  Most airplanes use bits of wire or string to connect the flight controls to the surfaces that actually change the plane's direction.  The Yankee uses pushrods, solid chunks of metal that directly connect your hand motions to the wings.  This makes a difference that even a pilot with ten hours can feel in an instant.  The plane really loves to maneuver, it rolls quickly from side to side, pitch changes are crisp with an near instant change in airspeed, and kicking the rudder leads to an emphatic tail wag.  All really great fun.  We did some stalls, and these were completely benign affairs in which the nose dropped through and the plane started flying again.  I still don't understand why people do not like stalls.  

According to my log book I have 18 landings in the Yankee.  I probably learned more doing those 18 than in all the previous landings or the next 100.  This airplane is really responsive. That is awesome when you are zooming around well off the ground.  However, once you get close enough tot he ground that it acts as a reference for where you are that responsiveness becomes twitchiness.  Really, the plane did not seem to go where I wanted but I could certainly see every little bit of palsy, every hesitant push or pull, and certainly every careless attempt to do something else with my hands than fly the airplane.  After the first two landings I was convinced that there must be some prohibition against flying the plane in hay fever season because an inopportune sneeze would mean a certain trip to the panel beater. But  eight or nine more landings and I was beginning to appreciate the plane's ability to link my desire to immediate action.  In addition to requiring rather more hand eye coordination than other planes, the Yankee stalls at a higher speed than most trainers and with a very flat deck angle.  The trick to landing them well is to hit the airspeed pretty closely then flare very gently.  If you get the nose up, the way you might in a Piper or Cessna you will shortly thereafter find that the remarkably study landing gear does not cushion a fall from 3-5 feet very well at all.  In my experience it did not really float or balloon so much as rear up and quit flying.  This led to some stern landings but did not lead to the multiple bounce variety that was my usual state in the P28A models with the 'Hershey bar' wing. 

If I were looking for a bargain basement two place plane this would be right at the top of my list.  It is fast, miserly with fuel and great fun to fly.  The flight characteristics would be easily mastered and while I might not like to hand fly a lot of hard IFR in a Yankee I would much rather have it on a 100 mile VFR trip than either the Cessna or Piper two seater.  And if I were flying solo I would choose it over the P and S brand 4 seaters.  It is a darn fun plane to fly.

#1 - P28A - The Piper 140, Cherokee, Warrior, and Archer

I do not think I am capable of fully explaining just how poorly I understood the causes and effects of my actions in this (or any) airplane when I started flight training.  I clearly remember grokking the radio call on my second flight. The function of the big black lever that made it loud in the cabin did not sink in until about hour twenty.  There is no point in explaining what I thought of the Warrior I first flew, it was a 160 horsepower model without the 'Hershey bar' wing.  What I can still remember, really like it was yesterday, was my first flight in a Cherokee 140.

I spent a year in Washington DC working for the feds at a granting agency.  It was a great job that really took advantage of my knowledge of the field and I would have been pretty happy with the year regardless of the flying.  As it turned out, the flying was just phenomenal.  I did not have a plane, but I had something even better...a friend with a plane.  Jim D. was my first flying friend and we bonded pretty much right away over stories of mistaking one lever for another, being unable to find the airport, and in general managing to embrace the mysteries of flying without experiencing that severe level of competence that I fear will take away some of the joy of breaking from the ground.  After flying in our offices for a few days Jim and I decided to get night current together.  I am still not completely sure about the FAA view of this...but a pilot must have 3 landings at night in the last 90 days to carry passengers.  Now, if two pilots are not night current can they go up and get current together?  Is one a passenger?  If so, there is trouble and I want you to remember that all that I write is fiction.  I am in fact a spectacular pilot with preternatural skills and I have never taken a wrench to my plane or violated one of the myriad Federal Aviation Rules (FARs) designed to keep me (and you) safe.

The plane lived on the grass, off the runway of the oldest continuously operated airport in the United States, College Park (CGS).  We took the Metro to the airport, and it was most excellent to be zipping through the underground with our pilot bags and headsets, knowing we were about to embark on a much cooler mode of transport.  Since the 9-11 attacks the completely misguided powers that be decided we would all be safer if small planes were heavily regulated in the DC area.  They insist on a screening process before you can fly in the FRZ (flight restricted zone).  This was a bit of a bummer for the small airports in the FRZ since it meant there was suddenly very little traffic.  I dealt with the paperwork the day I got to DC and as we headed for the plane I was equipped with my recently issued secret code word that would get me an FRZ squawk code.

The Cherokee 140 is a really cute little plane.  It has tricycle gear, which means the nose wheel is up front. There is a single door into the four seat cabin and for mysterious reasons this is on the co-pilot's side.  Jim and I trooped up the wing root to deposit our gear and don headlamps.  We did the preflight in the dark but warm evening as shadows at the edges of the airport began to mill around.  We climbed in, Jim in the left seat and me in the right. Jim would give me a run down of the plane as we headed to Fredrick (FRD) to do our night landings.  The plane did not feel substantively different than the three P28As I had flown in training, but this was emphatically not a rental plane.  It had all the hallmarks of an owned and well loved family plane.  Kids headsets in the rear, notes stuck to the panel and seats and seat belts set up for the usual occupants.  I would play merry hell with this order over the next 12 months.

I called Potomac Approach and spoke of secret codes, destinations, souls aboard and our sincere desire to obey all the laws of our union.  I was issued the call sign 'blue strike leader' and told to squawk 4309.  Or something along those lines.  We hopped in and Jim started up the smallest of the Cherokees.  We taxied across the grass and in the bouncing taxi light the moving shadows became a bunch of deer browsing at the edge of the runway.  In negotiating the uneven terrain I was particularly happy to have a steerable nose wheel. When we made the radio call to head to the run up area the FBO sent out a golf cart with a light to scare them back into the woods.  This service made landing after midnight (when they were no longer lounging around the airport) a very problematic affair.  As we lined up Jim explained his somewhat unorthodox technique for getting airborne.  He runs it up with the brakes on, lets go and starts the roll.  At 60mph he yanks sharply on the Johnson bar to put in 15 degrees of flaps.  This boots the airplane into the air like a Garo Yepremian touchback bound kickoff.  Not a bad idea in a somewhat underpowered airplane, in the dark, with trees at the end of a runway...on a warm night.  All in all I was glad of every bit of altitude as we climbed past the northwest end numbers.

As airplanes go the 140 is a pretty basic beast.  It gets you off the ground, carries four really small people, easily cruises well beyond your bladder and is dead easy to fly.  The dead easy part is because it has a very stable design that dearly wants to fly straight.  It will turn, and there is not a bit of heaviness to the controls, but it is not a very nimble type.  The most unusual thing relative to other planes I have flown is that the elevator trim is on the ceiling.  That's right, a crank is sitting smack in the middle of the cabin roof.  It is craftily labeled with arrows to tell you which way to turn to get the nose to go up.  This is a good thing, because I am here to tell you that my brain has no clear idea what should result when the crank is turned.  It is a testament to the incredible flexibility of my brian that even after a year of flying the 140 it was a 50/50 proposition when I reached up to crank without looking up to read.  Once the trim is dialed in the plane flies straight and true with virtually no control inputs.

The 140 racing down the runway.

The night landings were just a blast.  Jim did the first one and then we alternated.  Because my brother has a plane and hates to fly right seat I have a lot of time flying from the co-pilot's station.  The 140 offers a clear sight picture on landing and it was a simple matter to get a nice stabilized approach going.  This particular Cherokee does have the 'Hershey bar' wing which has a tendency to float if you are a little fast.  The wing has so much lift that coming in just 5 MPH over the spot landing speed will have the plane cruising along in ground effect a few feet off the ground instead of settling well.  Or, if you are an enthusiastic flarer the plane will pop up a dozen feet before settling rather firmly.  The landing gear is tough though, and the plane can take the drop.

All in all this trainer is an absolute joy to fly.  I put 48 hours on it in a year and flew through snow showers, rain and wind, to destinations up and down the east coast.  The plane had no trouble fitting my spouse and daughter and enough fuel to hit New York City.  It did give me a scare twice.  Once on a very hot day I had full fuel and just my own fat self, but I rotated early and mushed for 500 feet or more.  I corrected by lowering the nose but managed to scare the pee out of myself by barely missing the trees and construction cranes at the end of the runway.  On another departure, with three little kids aboard, I took off to find the airspeed indicator was dead. So was the altimeter.  And the vertical speed indicator. Quick...what was wrong?  The usual...a bunch of vile bugs had built a home in the pitot static system.  I did not realize that I would be nervous landing without airspeed.  Short runway, trees to miss on approach and a plane full of kids meant I had enough sweat for a hot day.  It ended well and was easily fixed with a piece of copper wire.

So...high marks for getting off the ground.  It is a basic plane, but at $18-25K it is plane that will serve you well and very cheaply.

Starting at 20...

It would have been kind of cool to dream up this goal while still sitting in my very first airplane, but of course that would require an artistic sensibility that might herald a desire to wrap bridges in orange fabric or preserve hemisected cows in formalin filled plexiglas boxes.  I have not anything like that level of creativity.  This idea emerged, fully formed, from well tilled soil.  Without flying another hour I am already 20% of the way towards my goal.  Yes, there are 20 types in the logbook even as we begin this adventure. I started flying in April of 2005 and now, six years and a few months later I have managed to add about three types per year to my total.  At this rate it will be more than 25 years before I make the grade, but I have several reasons for supposing things might speed up.

The most important reason is that for the first time in my life I have a pilot community that is broader than my younger brother.  We learned to fly together and for the first 4 years we were pretty much the only pilots we knew.  Oh, one or two acquaintances earned the ticket and then stopped flying, but neither of us had the camaraderie of fellow fliers.  When I moved to the island all that changed.  On this little rock it is odd if you go to the grocery store and don't meet a friend in the veggie section, and it is not at all unusual to have someone wander into my hanger to profess a deep and abiding concern about the nasty float I exhibit on landing,  We have a pilot's association, but more importantly, we have a vibrant and interested community of people who recognize the joy and the utility of flying.  These are folks with varied backgrounds, not all of whom own a plane, but every one of whom feels that same little frisson when the wheels leave the pavement and the act of ascent has begun.  Until that moment you are a person with a world of choices, but once you leave the ground you have one looming constraint.  You must return to earth in a safe and hopefully stylish fashion at your intended destination.

The 20 types, as abbreviated by ICAO, are as follows:

AA1, AA5, AC11, BE24, BE36, C150, C172, C180, C82R, C206, CH7A, CH7B, DA40, DR40, DV20, EVSS,  G103, J3, J5, and P28A.

Oddly enough, in alphabetical order the last was first.  My first training flights were in the low wing Piper Warrior (P28A) and several really memorable flights have been in other models of this popular trainer.  The first was second...the little fighter plane wannabe Grumman American Yankee (AA1) was the second  plane I trained in.  Each of them has two stories, the first is how I came to fly the type and my breadth of experience in it, while the second is a tyro's view of how the plane flew.  I have gained some experience over the years, so my next glider ride will not be quite the adventure my first one was, but I am still such a long way from an educated pilot that my descriptions of the flight characteristics will have little to do with a test pilot's opinion and might more closely mirror the experience of an average, or below average, pilot hoping to own a plane.

To fly 100 types of aircraft before the FAA decides I am too fat, slow and stupid to control an aerial vehicle

My grandfather's tales of flying wooden, cloth covered airframes in the first world war inspired in me a deep love of flight.  I built models, read a lot, and finally, when I was good and old, I learned to fly. The typical student pilot eventually earns the private pilot certificate in about 70 hours and is then allowed to fly single engine airplanes of modest engine size, with a nose wheel and landing gear that does not go up and down.  She is further restricted to flying in relatively benign conditions during daylight and nighttime, as long as there are no clouds around.  I was somewhat below average, but managed to earn the license to learn in spite of rather poor natural ability.

The main thing I learned is that I just love, absolutely adore, the feeling of flying.  I have spoken with hundreds of pilots and former pilots and many seem to tire of the simple act of departing firm contact with mother earth.  Myself, I get a silly grin whether I am headed to a distant destination or taking a plane up to make three landings so I can remain current in my ability to fly passengers.  I am a total junky.  Since 2005 when the FAA made the initial error and granted me the ticket I have not managed to go 45 days without a flight.  I get antsy and stressed and start thinking of really bad excuses for getting into the air.

Two years ago my life changed when we moved from southern California, one of the great places on earth to fly, to northern Washington state.  I now live on a small island and flying is not just fun, convenient and entertaining it is very useful logistically.  The three hour trip to Seattle is just 45 minutes.  The 4-6 hour round trip Costco run is a 14 minute hop to a waiting car that is just 5 minutes from consumerism's Mecca.  This is a great place to fly and I somehow managed to convince my family that owning a plane was the way to go.  I had been seriously shopping for planes since my third lesson and had perhaps the most minute knowledge in America of the asking price and condition of perhaps 5 airframes over a 6 year period.  Buying my plane was relatively simple when the deal of the decade appeared.

My plane in the shadow of a somewhat larger plane.

With my own plane and the island life my flying time leapt from 50-90 hours a year to 180-250 hours per year.  The total cost stayed similar because I was no longer renting planes...and taking nearly quarterly check rides.  All this time in the bird, flying the same routes, made me realize that I wanted a new goal in my aviation life.  I am too old and fat for the real records.  I can't imagine flying higher, faster, further or with fewer clothes on than anyone else ever has.  Or even achieving an impressive standard in any category but the last, but I am somewhat usual among my aviation friends in that I actively love to fly new things.  I am not a great pilot, and with fewer than 600 hours I am far from an experienced pilot.  I can't fly in clouds and floats are still beyond me. Still, I just get a huge charge out of sitting in a new type of plane and reading through a completely unfamiliar checklist.  Check oil pressure...excellent, where is the gauge?  Fuel pump on...that switch must be somewhere down here.  The checklist and the pilot's operating handbook are like brand new junk reading from my favorite mystery writers.

I have a few endorsements to my ticket, so without further training there are several hundred 'certificated' airplanes out there that I can just climb in and fly around.  Add to that a rather stunningly diverse world of 'experimental' types and there is really quite a lot of variety for a flying gourmand like me.  For years I have read the flight reports in magazines and I follow the forums of several type groups, and this serves to whet my apetite for new airframes. Because I rented for so many years I really learned a lot about the variety available within a single type, the most popular airplane ever built, the Cessna 172.  This bird comes in carburated and fuel injected models and can have gauges so primitive they are literally powered by the winds of flight, or so sophisticated that they can fly you through the clouds and put you within 300 feet of the end of your destination runway.  Nevertheless they all fly pretty much the same way.  If I had to steal one I would be quite confident that I could be gone in 60 seconds and that my departure would not inspire comment.  So, while I had once thought it might be fun to fly every 172 from the 172A all the way though the 172SP after about 10 models I was not feeling much of a challenge.  In some years the only difference was a new window.

Recently I switched to a new digital log book and I realized that I had flown about 18 types of airplane.  The International Civil Aviation Organization standardizes things like airport codes and type of aircraft.  This codification provides a convenient litmus test for determining whether two aircraft are different.  All 172 Skyhawks are C172, and all those variants on the entry level Piper are P28A whether marketing decided to call them a Cherokee, a Warrior or even an Archer. So, my goal is simple: I want pilot in command time (and hopefully a few landings) in 100 types of aircraft.

I have been thinking about the goal for a while, but recently I got a little more serious and decided to write about the effort.  It is fair, dear reader, to ask why I would want to write about a rather abstruse and ultimately self centered task.  I have little conceit that anyone cares about my adventures, but I do suppose that my perspective on some planes my be of interest to a new prospective airplane owner.  Perhaps some  non-flying reader with the manual dexterity of a nine year old and the mental acuity of a bright chimpanzee will sense kinship in abilities and decide that if the writer can get off the ground, then so too can she.  One thing is quite sure, we may not need more writing, but we do need more pilots.  Pilots are thin on the ground, they are getting older, and they are not doing a good job of inspiring the young folks that they once were.  I came to this game late, but I have tried to evangelize for this craft and have one new pilot/plane owner to my credit and two more on the way.  Another reason to write this is that I have to write something.  I have to write for my job, but the text is generated in longish lumps with some temporal distance between them, and in a style that is only slightly less off putting than the old Japanese/English instruction manuals for hooking up daisy wheel printers.  I like writing and whether there is a deeper purpose or not sometimes it just needs to get out.