It’s close to your home airport, yet you’ve never landed there. It’s too short, or it’s too narrow, or it has a tower and you hate talking on the radio—or it doesn’t have a tower and you’re not comfortable entering the pattern there on the weekend, what with aircraft coming in from all directions.
For me, that one airport was Clearview Airport in Westminster, Maryland. Just 17 nautical miles from Frederick Municipal Airport, Clearview is legendary in these parts. It’s 1,840 feet long by 30 feet wide. Trees line the approach end of Runway 14. Runway 32 has a displaced threshold. Depending on your point of view, it’s a challenge, a nightmare, or no big deal.
There’s a little FBO on the field, with a parts shop stocked with everything. The owner will sell you a coffee mug that says, “I landed at Clearview,” but only if you fly in. No cheating and driving in to get one.
During all my primary training, I never once landed at Clearview. I’m not sure why, because it would have made refining the short-field takeoff and landing so much more significant. During instrument training, I often shot practice approaches at Clearview. Then we’d slingshot over to nearby Carroll County Regional Airport before heading back to Frederick. But I never landed during those approaches.
A few times I flew out to Clearview in my Piper PA–28-140, scoped it out, set up for an approach—then diverted back to Frederick.
Two or three times I even drove to Clearview to pick up oil for my airplane’s annual inspection. The FBO owner would ask me, “Did you fly in?” I’d admit I didn’t. He’d say, “Next time fly in. Just watch your airspeed. You’ll be fine.” I’d say OK. But I didn’t do it.
That is, not until 2018. Some AOPA colleagues decided to start collecting stamps for the Explore Maryland by Air passport program. That’s a program where you visit all the airports in the state, collect stamps, and earn a prize. Side note: If your state has a passport program, you should absolutely sign up, because who doesn’t need a fun new excuse to go flying?
A group of pilots set aside a Saturday to knock out some of Maryland’s airports. Our goal was to land at Carroll County, Clearview, Montgomery County Airpark (inside the Washington, D.C., Special Flight Rules Area!), and then eat lunch at Hagerstown Regional-Richard A Henson Field before returning to Frederick. I blinked at Clearview, then realized that there was no actual reason to prevent me from landing at that airport. I had landed at other airports with shortish runways. There were no density altitude issues on that day. I could do this.
But as always when I am not completely confident, I created a back-up plan: Three attempts at landing at Clearview, and if I couldn’t land in three attempts then I would go on to Montgomery County (4,202 feet long, 75 feet wide). There would be no shame in skipping the airport, and I wouldn’t put myself under pressure only to possibly run off the end of the runway in front of witnesses.
Plan in hand, I met up with the other pilots. At the last minute I even got a passenger—a low-time student pilot. Now I also had to be a good role model for him. That made me feel better about having a back-up plan.
Five miles out from Clearview, the student pilot helped me pick out the airport, and I set up for the approach. I dropped all 40 degrees of flaps on final and cut the power; we slid over the treetops on approach to Runway 14 and dropped down on the driveway-wide pavement. I couldn’t believe it. I’d finally landed at Clearview—no go-around needed.
I bought a mug while I was there and collected a stamp on my passport. I’m as proud of that mug as for any other type of flying I’ve done.
Flying is so joyous, but sometimes we psych ourselves out too much. This year, go out and get that airport. Do what you need to do to prepare—practice crosswind landings, or short-field landings, or get on the radio, or practice your nontowered airport operations. Buy that mug. Take that selfie. Forget everything else, and remember why you love flying so much.