Pilots

Some pilots have ice water coursing through their veins. We've all seen them. Pilots like the late astronaut Alan Shepherd, dubbed "The Icy Commander" by Tom Wolfe in The Right Stuff. Then there are pilots like Darcy Eggeman. Her mantra: "Too many people in this business think they know it all and have stopped learning. The trick is not to let them intimidate you." No ice, just oil.

As a newly minted pilot in the early 1980s, Eggeman taught flying in the challenging environment of the Colorado Rockies for a year before moving to the world of pipeline patrol. Today, she captains a Gulfstream IV jet for Mobil Oil. And while women in the corporate cockpit are commonplace today, this was not the case a decade ago. For Eggeman, obsessed with flying since she watched gliders as a small child, the education began at Colorado Northwestern Community College where she earned an associate degree in aviation technology after bidding farewell to skeptical relatives and friends. "In college I was in a program of nine women and 300 guys. I had no idea what discrimination was all about. I do now," Eggeman says.

Eggeman persevered, got her degree and her CFII, and began teaching in the land of mountain waves. She logged 650 hours instructing in a little over a year but decided that she could build time even faster by flying a pipeline patrol over the "Four Corners" of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah. She set out in a tired Cessna 172, flying low through gullies and mountain passes. Above her was some of the most rapidly changing weather in the country.

One day, Eggeman recalls, she was having a particularly difficult time following a pipeline in gusty winds. Frustrated, she turned toward Farmington, New Mexico, and called the tower. "It was reporting winds of 70 knots."

But days like that were atypical, and Eggeman now looks back fondly at the almost 2,000 hours she accumulated "flying the pipe." "I learned how to manipulate the airplane at lower altitudes and work with and understand weather systems. It was a great experience."

Yet Eggeman knew she didn't want to spend the rest of her career in a 172, so it was on to Denver and a charter job flying a Beech King Air, followed by a series of freelance gigs flying Learjets. Eggeman, who is not an A&P, accelerated her learning curve by becoming a self-professed "hangar rat," learning as much as she could about the aircraft she flew from the people who worked on them. She also toiled in the front office, telemarketing, keeping the books, and scheduling charters. Her last Learjet job, in Chicago, ended shortly after she arrived.

For those intent on building multiengine and turbine flight time as a freelance Part 135 pilot, Eggeman counsels, "There are a lot of nasty, beat-up airplanes out there, and it is every pilot's responsibility to make sure the airplane is airworthy and that your employer is adhering to the FARs."

After tasting unemployment, Eggeman opted for the security of a commuter airline and flew a Shorts 360 out of Chicago O'Hare International for Simmons (now American Eagle). The "boxcar" was unpressurized and had no autopilot, and Eggeman spent a lot of time coaxing it through instrument conditions, including a lot of ice. After 18 months of seven-legs-a-day to bucolic Essential Air Service destinations, Eggeman decided to return to corporate aviation — and oil.

Across town at Chicago Midway, Amoco (now BP Amoco) needed another copilot for its brace of often internationally bound Gulfstreams. So long, Des Moines; hello Paris. Eggeman's passport got more dog-eared than a prison paperback. After seven years she left Amoco and the right seat for the left seat flying G-IVs from Mobil's corporate aviation base at Washington Dulles International

Oil again.

On any given day she'll be headed to Alaska, China, the Middle East, Peru, or points in between, at 45,000 feet, in arguably the most regal ride in the sky. But while the backdrops may be glamorous, a successful international business flight requires considerable earnest drudgery, reams of paper, and saintly patience. Eggeman explains the choreography. "First a trip request comes into dispatch, who assigns a crew and an airplane. The captain is responsible for flight planning and arranging for crew transportation; the copilot pulls the charts and preflights the aircraft; the cabin steward orders the catering. On international trips a 'handler' completes and files flight plans, gets overflight and landing permits, makes local arrangements, shepherds everyone through customs and immigration, and assists the crew as required." Ninety percent of the time, this complex ballet comes off without a hitch. But on some international flights, Eggeman's gender still poses a problem; not all destination countries welcome female pilots.

Then again, Eggeman recounts what happened on a recent domestic flight. "I had loaded the baggage in the back, the airplane was full, and as I am making my way to the cockpit, a gentleman passenger says, 'Gee I didn't know we had a stewardess on this flight.'" Eggeman made light of it. "I smiled and told him I was the pilot. Everyone laughed. But you know, he thanked me for a nice flight when he got off the plane."

No ice. Oil.