Victor

About a year ago I started thinking about buying my own personal plane. I wanted to have a plane I could fly at a moment’s notice and not have to schedule days or weeks in advance. I also wanted something with better performance, i.e. would climb and cruise faster, and could fly comfortably over the 10,000′ Sierra Nevada Mountains.

In early 2006 a friend, Mike Eynon, told me he was selling his 1974 Citabria. It didn’t appeal to me at first, because it was a high wing plane and it was smaller than I thought I wanted. I had flown in it one other time, but he took me up for another ride. We were barely rolling down the runway before it left the ground. It climbed easily at 1,000′ per minute. It sure had plenty of power. He let me take the stick to see how it handled. I was used to a yoke, so it didn’t feel very comfortable at first. I let him do most of the flying. But even with Mike flying the plane, I could tell it was very maneuverable. And it had great visibility. The Citabria is similar to a Piper Cub, in that it has a narrow fuselage and tandem seating, with the passenger sitting behind the pilot. Both side windows are only inches from your shoulders, so you have a great view from either side. I felt more one with the plane, rather than a body sitting inside of a plane and looking out. It was what I imagined it was like to be a bird. I thought to myself, “This is why I learned to fly!”

In April 2006 I bought Mike’s Citabria. It happens to be a tailwheel plane, which I didn’t know how to fly at the time. So I started taking tailwheel lessons in my own plane. After about 25 hours of mostly takeoffs and landings over a month or so, I was finally signed off for the tailwheel. Using a stick felt weird at first, but very soon became very intuitive for me. A stick gives more precise control, which is why fighter jets all have control sticks instead of yokes.

I’m thoroughly enjoying my new “taildragger” and fly it every chance I get. I’ve flown it several times now to Fresno to visit my mother; to Pine Mountain Lake to visit Eric and Nealy; to Cloverdale to visit Kenny, Ellen, Scott and Sarah; and to various other places just because they’re there, like Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo, Harris Ranch, Half Moon Bay, Napa, Red Bluff, and even Orland International to visit Sy and Melissa.

With urging from Leslie, I’ve decided to give my plane a name. In pilot-speak, my tail# N8571V is pronounced “November-8-5-7-1-Victor.” So now I call him Victor.

But once again I’m feeling the need to stretch my wings. Fortunately, I have an opportunity to fly myself to Salt Lake City in June to attend the Rotary International Convention. Stay tuned!

Happy flying!

Sky King

The Flying Bug

During high school and college I wanted to learn to fly so badly I could taste it. But being as poor as a church mouse I saw no way of ever getting enough money together to make it happen. So I eventually forgot about flying and got on with my life.

Over the years I was able to take fairly short flights with pilot friends on various occasions. It was always exciting for me, no matter where we went or how long we were gone. Around 10 years ago, after our son Eric had learned to fly, he took his mom and me flying as a Christmas present to us. I loved it! I didn’t want the flight to ever end. But I still wasn’t quite ready, financially that is.

During Christmas 2002 Leslie and I were visiting Stephanie and her family in Alabama. Steph’s husband Rich took me for a short flight in a Cessna 150. We were no sooner leveled off when he had me take the yoke and steer the plane. That’s all it took. I was hooked. I thought to myself that maybe it was no longer out of reach financially to be able to fly. I allowed myself the privilege to think it was feasible. By the time that short flight was over, I had made up my mind that I would learn to fly!

The day after returning home from Alabama I walked into the Santa Cruz Flying Club at the Watsonville Airport to sign up for flying lessons. A young woman standing there said, “Hi, I’m Amber. I’m an instructor. Would you like to take an introductory flight to see how you like it?”

I said, “No. I want to learn to fly.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to start with an introductory lesson,” she said. “It’s just a short 30-minute flight to see how you like it.”

Somewhat more forcefully I said, “I already like it. I want to learn to fly! When can we start lessons?”

She finally realized how serious I was and gave me my first lesson on January 3, 2003 in a Cessna 150. After the first lesson I said, “Let’s move up to the Cessna 172. The 150’s too small and uncomfortable for (big old fat) me. I soloed on Valentine’s Day 2003. I passed my checkride for my Private License in July 2003.

In September 2003 I joined a small group of 10 called Beach Barons, Inc. who bought a Cherokee 140 to put it online (for rent) with the Santa Cruz Flying Club. I switched to flying the Cherokee and loved it. It was my first experience with a low wing aircraft and I like the way it handled. As a new pilot, I liked that the Cherokee is a very forgiving plane. I flew as much as I could, roughly 10 hours a month. I received my Instrument rating in the Cherokee in August 2005.

During 2005 the Beach Barons group decided to purchase another plane, a Cessna 150, to put online at the club as a rental. We found a plane that we wanted, but it was in Pocatello, Idaho. In October 2005 I flew on my first long cross country flight to Pocatello in the Cherokee with another Beach Barons owner, Dan Dawson. It took us two days to fly there and two days to fly back, with a day in between to check out the plane before we bought it. Dan flew the Cessna 150 back and I flew the Cherokee. Before the trip I wanted to spread my wings and do more than just a one or two hour flight. Would a long flight be harder? Would it be more or less fun? All I knew was I had to find out. When this opportunity came up, I jumped at it! I don’t know what I would have done if more than two of us wanted to go. Anyway, it was a great experience that I thoroughly enjoyed. It turned out not being any harder or easier. But it sure was a lot of fun! A long cross country is just a bunch of short flights strung together. You end up stopping every two hours or so for fuel and a potty break, and maybe a meal. I’ve been yearning for another long flight ever since.

I want to give a special thanks to Eric and Rich for getting me hooked. They have both been very supportive mentors during this new period in my life. It has been great to be able to tell them about my latest flying adventure, or seek their counsel on occasion. I also want to thank Leslie for allowing me to chase this passion. She doesn’t enjoy flying as much as I do (at all), but she knows what it means to me and allows me to fully enjoy my passion.

And somewhere along the line I picked up the nickname Sky King, after the 1960’s TV character.

Sky King