Musings: I Think I'm Married To My Airplane

My Cessna 310Q has Continental IO-470 engines, Aspen 1000 PFD, Garmin 530W, 430, 696, 330ES, and STEC-30A autopilot. It also has deicing boots and an alcohol windshield. So it is a capable, nearly all-weather flying machine.

Granted, my airplane is coming up on recommended time between overhaul (TBO) and will need two engine overhauls in the next three years (given my current yearly flight hours); but is this the impetus for looking away from my current airplane to another platform?

Why? I ask myself. Why ponder moving from many knowns to many unknowns? Why move from an aircraft with a good dispatch rate and many successful missions? Crazy, huh? Yet here I sit, at the local FBO, waiting for weather to improve at my destination, studying the latest resale publication, leafing wantonly through the colorful pages of airplanes posing in different positions. It’s just kind of weird. But I know I am not alone.

When pilots congregate, they talk a little about the airplane they own and fly. But they talk a lot about the airplanes they don’t own and want to fly. It is our nature, I suppose. As pilots, we tend to be dreamers. We see possibilities and think what if? Is it this tendency in pilots that motivates the thought of owning different airplanes than our current ones?

I have to spend time with it; I have to invest in it; I have to consider its needs in order to prolong its life. And for this, I get a thrill and a smile every time I fly.What if I had a bigger, faster, more complex airplane? How would I handle this challenge? Could I improve my skills and performance to safely pilot this different airplane? Would this airplane provide a different thrill in satisfying my current mission profile set? There is a logical progression in airplane capabilities—trainer to fixed-gear single to high-performance, complex-retractable to twin-engine to turboprop, and finally to jet. Some pilots move through this progression in months, while others may take years (if at all) to reach a desired level of competence, performance, and proficiency. Any mission requirements for longer range, higher payload, and less flight time are satisfied at some level along this progression. For many in general aviation, our mission requirements can be satisfied by a multitude of aircraft choices across manufacturers. Beech, Piper, Cessna, Mooney, Commander, Diamond, and Cirrus all make great and wonderful airplanes from which we can choose. And like a siren song, this multitude of choices calls pilots to consider another airplane.

The physics of flying tell us that thrust, drag, lift, and weight are the predominant forces of flight. Therefore, at the edge of the utility class of GA aircraft, there are very few options available to significantly affect overall performance. Larger engines will add weight and consume more fuel. Thinner wings reduce drag but sharpen the flight envelope. More accessories (boots, pods, et cetera) increase drag. Larger cabin size increases drag and increases weight. And the trade-offs go on and on with minimal effects on overall performance. After aircraft designers choose the thoroughly studied wing of choice, the corresponding specification is mated with an available engine (horsepower). Beyond these fundamental design choices, the resulting aircraft will vary only slightly for competing airframes given the wing, engine, and fuselage/drag.

I am married to my airplane. Hear me out: I have to spend time with it; I have to invest in it; I have to consider its needs in order to prolong its life. And for this, I get a thrill and a smile every time I fly. The relationship of pilot to airplane has some aspects of marriage. GA pilots must consider the total costs of ownership when buying an airplane. While operating costs are often the initial focus, it is the total cost of ownership that is worthy of review. Keeping an airplane in top operating condition requires regular maintenance, hangar space, insurance, upgrades, timely repairs, training, and proficiency. These are all necessary elements to promote a happy relationship between the owner and the airplane.

Although my thoughts often wander to consider other airplanes, my conclusion is this: Unless or until my mission requirements change significantly, the airplane I have is the best airplane for me. I have learned its systems, in exacting detail, over the years of ownership. I know the current maintenance schedule, and have planned future upgrades to enhance my flying experience. Last, my prior investments are of value to me but may not be valued highly in the resale market. I am committed to flying and enjoying my airplane despite my mental excursions of what if. So whether you have an Experimental, a Cessna 150, a Piper Cub, a Seneca V, a Cessna twin, a King Air, or a Citation, our collective predilection for dreaming will lead us to consider what if—but our commitment to flying safely demands that we continue giving our full attention to the aircraft that is fulfilling our flying missions. Happy flight, happy life.

Arthur Billingsley is a former U.S. Navy commander living in Florida.