Always Learning

Working at an aviation organization, a sizable portion of water-cooler chatter is pilots hatching plans—often wildly impractical—to buy an airplane. Sometimes, the lucky among us find a way to make it work (see “Dream Fulfilled,” p. 38). The rest of us renters wait for our moment to come, killing time on Trade-a-Plane.com.

In many ways, I like renting. I have access to a variety of well-maintained aircraft I couldn’t own outright; I don’t have to budget for the unknowns of annual inspections; and someone else handles the hangar lease, database updates, and other logistics. Hourly rental rates are linear and predictable, and I can reliably find a CFI who’s familiar with the aircraft for flight reviews and checkouts. But when I come to the airplane and someone’s changed the moving map to “north up” mode, or the leading edges are lined with bugs, I long for a taste of how the other half lives.

The advantages of renting come at the cost of the little inconveniences of sharing resources: The last renter leaves the seatbelts askew, or the fuel tanks nearly empty when you want them full—or, worse, full when you need half tanks. I didn’t realize how strong my preferences were for avionics configurations until I powered up the Dynon SkyView in the Van’s RV–12 that I fly to find the last pilot had moved the map window to the left, with the primary flight instruments off to the right. (Where the engine instruments go, I huffed.)

For now, renting is right for me. But someday…These all are minor inconveniences with simple solutions, but they make the dream of aircraft ownership seem even brighter. Owners can keep their headset in the aircraft, with the hangar and cockpit organized just the way they want it. There’s no scheduling around others, and they can take multiple-day trips without feats of advance planning or last-minute negotiations. If the tires are wearing, it’s their own fault. And unlike in a partnership, decisions on upgrades and maintenance don’t require a majority vote.

The owners I know also tend to fly more than those who rent. While renters can measure paychecks in Hobbs hours, hourly costs are a much smaller share of an owner’s expenses. When you’ve already spent the money on the airplane and the hangar, you might as well spend the money on gas to fly. And an open hangar door is an invitation to community; time spent tooling and tidying up leads to talking about airplanes and hanging out, and then more flying.

Of course, renting and owning aren’t the only ways to fly aircraft. Partnerships have many of the advantages of solo ownership, but with the cost spread out among the partners. Flying clubs spread those costs out even further, with the additional benefits of a social network and often access to multiple aircraft. (Depending on the structure of the club, members may or may not own a share of the airplanes.) And, less common is a dry lease, which just means leasing an aircraft but not the pilot. Each option has its advantages, and the right one depends on a pilot’s circumstances. For now, renting is right for me.

But someday…

A few months ago, we renovated our kitchen: knocked down walls, replaced the sagging cabinets, and tore out the glitchy microwave. After spending longer than we’d planned and more than we’d budgeted, we finally unpacked in a brand-new space that was just the way we wanted it. Then the washer leaked. The air conditioner broke. I sat contemplating how much this next project would cost us. With the windows open, though, I could hear the trees swaying and the birds chirping. The new table didn’t wobble, and with the wall gone I could see the kids playing in the den. Like aircraft ownership, homeownership can be expensive and unpredictable. But it sure is nice to know this is ours.