The most likely time for an airline pilot to buy an airplane seems to be in the vicinity of his sixtieth birthday. This is when the FAA dictates that his life as an air-carrier pilot will come to an abrupt and ignominious end.
Many shrug off mandatory retirement and are content to dedicate their remaining years to golf, fishing, and a variety of other activities. But others are unwilling to look skyward in envy of those passing overhead. For them, as for me, flying is more than an occupation; it is a passion, a way of life that cannot be willingly forsaken. Buying an airplane, then, becomes a natural consequence of retirement.
In many ways, giving up heavy iron for a pair of personal wings is an improvement. It provides a freedom in the sky that is unknown to the modern airline pilot. Today's four-striper flies strictly by the numbers, in compliance with policy manuals, and within the straightjacket requirements of FAR Part 121. He may not whimsically chase a cloud or pivot on a wingtip about an alluring spectacle below. Airline economics — and, to some extent, safety — force him to fly so high that the beauty of what passes beneath his wings is often undetectable.
So it was that I decided to buy a small airplane as a retirement gift to myself. I've owned two previous machines, but this time was different. I have always wanted a new airplane, one that could be relied upon to provide years of pleasure without the expensive surprises that often accompany the purchase of a used airplane.
Unfortunately, the price tag of a new airplane is hardly compatible with a retirement income. Most are so exorbitantly expensive that the California sales and property taxes on such a purchase alone would equal or exceed the cost of many used aircraft.
Most of all, I wanted an airplane that would be fun for me and my wife, Kathy, an accomplished and professional pilot in her own right. I wanted an airplane that not only could be used to explore distant horizons, but that could also turn those horizons upside down when a playful mood strikes. So it was that I opted to buy an American Champion Explorer, which is the new name for the updated Citabria 7GCBC (the 160-horsepower version with flaps).
Even though the Explorer can keep up with a Cessna 172 (and has double the climb rate), its limited cruise speed and baggage capacity make it impractical for extended cross-country missions. When we need an airplane with speedier legs and additional load-carrying capacity, we will rent. In the meantime, the Explorer will handle most of our needs without breaking the bank.
We still, however, plan to someday fulfill our dream of owning an amphibian, the ultimate fun machine. I'm not sure what must come first, a lakeside home or the seaplane, but that's another story. (Kathy also wants a sailplane and a T-38.)
It also seems nostalgically appropriate to buy an Explorer. It is the progenitor of the Aeronca 7AC Champion in which I learned to fly and subsequently spent many happy hours in the rear seat teaching others to do the same. I will be going full circle.
Most Explorers (and Citabrias) are certified for VFR operations only (even when equipped with gyroscopic instruments). Because our home airport is frequently blanketed by morning and evening stratus from over the Pacific, we need an airplane equipped and approved for IFR flight. This required the factory to install additional cockpit lighting and substitute the tube-type pitot tube with a heated pitot mast similar to those found on Cessna singles.
Although the airplane will have the normal complement of IFR instrumentation and avionics, we also need either a DME or an IFR-approved GPS to execute one of the two instrument approaches available at our home airport (Santa Monica Municipal in the Los Angeles basin). Because the least-expensive DME costs almost as much as an IFR-certified Northstar M3 Approach GPS, the decision to opt for the latter was easy. The capability of GPS is relegating DME (and ADF) to become anachronisms; it is difficult to justify the cost of either in a small airplane. We are not particularly thrilled, however, at the prospect of having to pay hundreds of dollars per year for database updates.
Other avionics include a 760-channel transceiver, VOR and ILS receivers, transponder, marker beacon receiver, and intercom, all of which fill the panel without crowding it. If more space were available, however, my compulsive nature probably would cause me to add something else to fill the void.
Our Explorer also will have corrosion protection, a tinted sunroof, and aileron spades to reduce stick forces in roll.
As a final touch, I selected N707BS as the registration number for our red, white, and dark-blue airplane, in memory of the Boeing 707, the first jet-powered airplane I ever flew.
As I write this, we are eagerly waiting for American Champion to call and advise when during the next week the airplane will be ready for delivery. Next month in this column, I plan to share with you the thrill of picking up the airplane at the factory (near Milwaukee) and the joy of flying it westward across the Great Plains, the Rocky Mountains, the Colorado Plateau, and the Mojave Desert to its new home.
