Editor in Chief Thomas B. Haines has been flying general aviation aircraft for the past 29 years.
General aviation as we know it is on the brink of extinction.
A sobering thought, but it's near-consensus thinking among many of the more, um, senior members of our community. Those new to general aviation are busy just trying to master crosswind landings. Those who have been here longer see a graying of the general aviation pilot population, aging of the fleet, and a general malaise that threatens the core of general aviation. Without some serious efforts at rejuvenation, certainly GA as we know it — recreationally flying single-engine piston airplanes most anywhere and whenever we want — will be gone in a generation. Business aviation travel will continue, although its longevity is ever more fragile as that community comes under attack for user fees and taxes. Light sport aviation may linger on, but it is turning out to be even more expensive than originally envisioned. General aviation "European style," meaning microlights, gliders, and ultralights, may be the future for American GA unless we can effect a dramatic change in the next few years.
For the past generation, we blamed the malaise on a lack of new airframes and innovation. With the success of Cirrus, Diamond, Columbia, and other new aircraft designs in the past decade, we can no longer go there. Those new airframes have brought revolutionary changes to our cockpits. Only a decade ago, a GPS receiver showing a couple of lines of text was cutting edge. Today, we have integrated navigators with multifunction displays (MFDs) showing moving maps, terrain, datalinked weather, and nearby traffic. GA has never been safer. We should be attracting hordes of new pilots, ready to take advantage of the challenges and utility that GA brings.
Too expensive, you say? Aviation has never been cheap. It's difficult to make direct comparisons between costs today and costs in the past. Depending on what scale you use, the cost of GA probably has risen faster than other costs. But the utility of today's airplanes is higher than ever before. Twenty years ago even basic wing-leveler autopilots were only a dream for all but those flying complex singles and those higher up the food chain. Today, two-axis autopilots are standard equipment on most every airplane, as are MFDs with the above-noted sensors. Anti-ice and air conditioning, once the purview of only the very high-end airplanes, are available on many middle-of-the-pack singles. You pay more, but you get more.
The solution to GA's malaise can be summed up in two words: pilot population.
More pilots will create more demand for aircraft, avionics, fuel, and services. Demand creates competition, which means greater efficiencies and lower costs. More pilots mean more clout. As we've seen with AOPA's growing membership even during times of declining pilot populations, protecting the interests of GA requires a large block of voters. Together we can accomplish a lot, but singularly we will fail.
Or rather, singularly we can succeed, if we each do our part to help grow the pilot population.
As you've surely noticed, we dedicate the cover of this issue and a large section of articles, beginning on page 60, to the revitalized AOPA Project Pilot program. Through this program, we encourage AOPA members, who represent the most active GA pilots anywhere, to mentor adults with the time, money, and commitment to become pilots. We all know someone — usually multiple someones — who always asks us about our flying, who expresses an interest in learning to fly. As GA pilots, we need to encourage that first flight and be there for these prospects as they begin their journey toward pilothood.
Some of you will recognize the program and the concept. We originally launched Project Pilot in 1994 with much fanfare and a great deal of success. Over the years thousands of members have mentored thousands of new pilots.
This time around we have a robust new Internet site to help smooth the communications flow among student, Mentor, and AOPA.
As can be seen by the articles in this issue, Mentors really do make a difference. Despite a lack of formal mentoring, a few of us managed to swim the circuitous route to a pilot certificate, but having someone there to answer your questions and provide support makes all the difference in the world.
Unlike many pilots, I did not have someone else in my family who was a pilot. I went it alone, and I can tell you it was not easy. I had a few people rooting for me, and some who provided information, but mostly I was a teenager plunging ahead, hoping for the best. My parents supported my interest in learning to fly, but with neither as a pilot, they could offer only moral support. My instructor, the wonderfully patient John Julian, made the actual flying part as painless as he could, but to someone who had never before been in an airplane, everything was a mystery.
A Mentor might have given me some solid advice about not taking the ground school before I started flight training. I elected to complete the ground school — in the 1970s it was done as a class; the concept of computer-based training had not yet been invented — the winter before I turned 16. My plan was to start flying in the spring; I'd be 16 by then and could solo. Ground school was one night a week for quite a number of weeks. Having never been in an airplane, I was completely lost. The concept of VOR navigation to a 15-year-old with no background in such subjects was a mystery quite literally beyond comprehension. Ditto with weather terms and many of the regulations. They might as well have been speaking a foreign language.
I'll confess here for the first time publicly that I failed the written test. I was crushed. The ego and confidence of a 15-year-old male are fragile things. I had always done well in school. The notion that I couldn't pass the written test was nearly a fatal blow to what I thought might be an aviation career. To make things worse, my father passed the test. Although he was not planning on learning to fly, he had taken the course with me since he had to drive me to class anyhow.
With Julian's encouragement, we dove back into the dry, black-and-white textbooks to revisit the areas that I missed on the test. A few weeks later I felt ready to take the test again. Back then, you could only take the exam at FAA facilities at certain times of the month under the close scrutiny of an FAA official; don't even think about bringing anything other than a number-2 pencil and your clunky mechanical E6B computer. The nearest location to take the test was at Allegheny County Airport near Pittsburgh — a 1.5-hour drive. As it turned out, a pilot on the field, Marie Eaves, also was going down to take a written test for another rating. Marie and her husband, Charlie, owned a beautiful two-tone green Bellanca Super Viking. She asked if I wanted to ride along. Of course, I did, and it was one of the most remarkable flights I've ever been on, not because it was anything special, but because it showed a wide-eyed 15-year-old what flying was all about. Until that time, it had been all chalkboards and theory. This day, I was right seat in a lovely high-performance single turning a 1.5-hour drive into a few minutes of flying. "VOR navigation" went from the abstract to the useful; radio communication and weather forecasting, from obscure to obvious. If only I had taken some flight lessons while I was struggling through ground school. If only some Mentor had pointed out that the ground school concepts would make so much more sense when linked to actually flying the airplane.
After that flight I was hooked, but the struggles weren't over.
I passed the test, but not with a great score. A busy social life and limited finances meant it would take me a full two years to complete the flight training. In fact, I took (and passed) the checkride just one day before the written exam was to expire.
I often wonder how different my flight training experience might have been with a helpful Mentor urging me on, understanding the rough spots, and occasionally sharing the cockpit outside a training environment.
With AOPA Project Pilot, you have the chance to make a difference in someone's life; usher them into GA, show them the ropes, and help them realize a dream. Now you know how one memorable flight can influence someone's life. Be a Mentor and share your knowledge and insights with someone who can truly benefit from them.
E-mail the author at [email protected].
Links to additional information about AOPA Project Pilot may be found on AOPA Online and www.AOPAProjectPilot.org.