In the 1960s, according to early statistics kept by aviation career organizations, 5,000 hours was considered competitive. Now, young aviators and mid-lifers with 1,500 hours total time and 50 hours of multiengine experience are picked up by Endeavor, SkyWest, or ExpressJet. Then, just four years later, United and Delta come calling. But, as with most everything worth pursuing in life, there is a downside along with the upsides.
Jon Kotwicki of fly8ma.com offers a first-hand perspective of life on the line in his YouTube post titled “Why I Quit Being an Airline Pilot.” Once an active CFI, he parlayed that experience into an airline career. But, before too long, he longed for the life he once had tutoring fledgling pilots and having more control over his life. He gave up his seat in a regional jet and a pathway to the majors. Why?
First, he admits that he has always been keen on general aviation. He found great enjoyment flying those little airplanes and connecting with students and others who like hanging around the local aerodrome. With that as his frame of reference, his new life in the world of Part 121 flying was, apparently, not as rewarding.
Imagine beginning a four-day trip with five legs on day one. Figure a little over 12 hours on duty. But, to get to the airplane you need to commute on some air carrier for two or three hours on top of the 90-minute drive to the airport. The route to the launch airport is on an old McDonnell Douglas MD–88 “Mad Dog 88” jump seat through Atlanta with your feet dangling, because the jump seat is too high.
Arriving at the point of departure, there’s no time for food and the line for coffee is too long. You make it to your ship barely in time. The passengers are boarding. You trot outside for a walk-around in the blowing rain. Then you set up the flight management system, get the paperwork in order, fire up the iPad, get the ATIS, get the clearance. You are psyched because you are flying a jet—but, in many instances, that flight is a whopping 22 minutes long, like Detroit to Lansing or Charlotte to Raleigh. Then turn around, and do it all over again.
The last flight of the day pulls into an out station just after midnight. You’ve been on five airplanes. You’re starving but all the airport restaurants are closed. The hotel van swings by the curb to pick you up and you finally get to your room at 12:45 a.m. You are beat.
That’s just on day one. Three more days to go.
At the last flight on day 4, there is a maintenance issue. The episode causes you to miss your flight back home, as it pushes back just as you arrive at the gate. Spend the night at a hotel paid out of your own pocket.
In all fairness, there are positives. Travel benefits are some of the best. If you missed taking your spouse to Ruth’s Chris Steak House for an anniversary feast, maybe a trip to Paris or Rome on flight benefits will make up for the missed $65 steak. And, with time, the big-league airlines come calling with a work-life balance that is much better.
But until then, the scenarios Kotwicki describes are not that uncommon at the regional airlines. And, as Kotwicki explains, the adventures that are possible through general aviation are reason enough to return to grassroots flying.
Airline flying isn’t for everyone. To many, however, flying for the airlines beats working for a living.