Preflight

All have a tale to tell

You know you're traveling too much when you wake up in a hotel room in the middle of the night and know immediately that you're in a Hampton Inn, a Marriott, or a Holiday Inn--but you can't remember the city. Or you walk out of a hotel early in the morning and you know your rental car is one of six Chevy Malibus parked in a row--but you can't tell which one without hitting the horn button on the remote keyless entry fob.

Yes, both of these happened to me, years ago, fortunately on different trips. Neither has recurred.

Except for incidents like that, I find that most of my business travel is pretty unremarkable, and not very memorable. Now, I do remember a lot about the people I meet, and the things I see--probably a good quality to have as a journalist--but details of the travel itself usually fade from my memory pretty quickly.

Trips are always more memorable when you fly yourself. Given a couple minutes (and maybe a peek at my logbooks) I can remember something from every trip on which I've served as pilot, whether it was an approach that worked out just right, an interesting or unexpected routing, hearing a humorous conversation on the radio, or just flying over a beautiful vista. But only one of the many trips I've made by airline readily comes to mind.

One night in the fall of 1991, I rode to Florida in the back of a brand-new McDonnell-Douglas MD-88, successor to the venerable DC-9. The airplane was so new that the Delta cabin crew mentioned its tender young age in their welcome announcement. The air was thick with the new-airplane smell (and it wasn't the aerosol stuff you spray onto the interior of your car). I can't recall today if we were the second revenue flight of the aircraft, or if it was that airplane's second day in service--but I do recall the ship's N-number: N987DL.

If somebody asked me what my favorite airliner is, first place would be a tie between the Douglas DC-3 and the Lockheed Constellation; the Boeing 737 places third in that race--and the MD-88 is somewhere behind the pack. Nothing against the MD-88; it's a fine airplane, just not my favorite. But I feel more connected with N987DL than any other airliner.

Although I don't think I've flown in that particular airplane since then, I've seen it on many occasions, usually at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. Considering that it's one of 120 MD-88s that Delta operates, I've seen it a disproportionate number of times. On the other hand, I do find myself looking for that N-number.

In fact, I saw that not-so-elusive airplane again today. Reading the business section of this morning's newspaper, I found a news story about Delta Air Lines' bankruptcy (for readers contemplating a flying career, there are still jobs to be had, especially at the regional carriers; see "Careers: What's Going On?" p. 47). Accompanying it was a wire service photo of a Delta MD-88 taxiing at the Atlanta airport. You guessed it--N987DL.

Only a pilot is likely to think of an airliner in terms of an N-number. But we can keep up with the general aviation aircraft we've flown, too. How? Search the FAA database of N-number registrations on AOPA Online. The Cessna 152 in which I first soloed more than 15 years ago has changed hands, but is still registered in eastern North Carolina. Likewise, the airplanes in which I made my first solo cross-country, my long cross-country, and took my private pilot practical test all have changed hands--but none seems to have strayed far from its roost.

Since the day of my first flying lesson, however, I've found other pilots--and the other people who make aviation what it is--to be even more interesting than the aircraft we fly. For the past year, we've been introducing you to some of these people through our "Why We Fly" column on the inside back page of the magazine. Some of our subjects have been student pilots, some flight instructors, and some--like Danial Doty, eloquently described by Katie Writer in "Why We Fly: Glacial Attraction" (p. 72)--do a little bit of everything. Doty is a commercial pilot and aircraft mechanic in Alaska who excels at landing ski-equipped airplanes on glaciers, for work and for fun.

You know people like her--people who, it seems, live to fly. If you're a writer, or even an aspiring writer, sit down at your keyboard and tell their story. If we accept your submission for publication, we'll send you a check that you can apply toward your flying expenses (actually, you can do anything you want with the money). Our only request is that you not write a first-person account of your own love for aviation or experiences in learning to fly.

And if you get a serious case of writer's block and just can't get letters on paper (or electronic media, as the case may be), drop us an e-mail and tell us about the person you'd like to see featured in "Why We Fly." Perhaps it will give us an excuse to make their acquaintance.

E-mail Mike Collins, editor of AOPA Flight Training.