MIAO: Confidence

One of the things they never tell you about buying an airplane is that mistakes aren't always easily fixed by just changing what you didn't like.  For instance: You don't like the brakes on the airplane.  They're worn (not worn enough to require the seller to replace) but worn enough that you don't like the performance.  You would think that the fix would be as simple as replacing the offending parts, right?

Wrong!

Well, it might be that simple--but it might not.  You see, there are many mechanics that can perform tasks on an airplane, just like there are many establishments that can make a cup of coffee.  However, those mechanics are just like all of those places you can buy coffee.  Some are green and inexperienced, some are gruff and grizzled, some just plain won't like you, etc.  It's not anything unique to aircraft mechanics--it's human nature.

Of course, the most important thing a mechanic can bring to the table is relevant experience.  All that said, you might find yourself occasionally paying for your mechanic to gain experience with a particular repair or installation (for instance, if you're the first preheat system customer he's had, it might take him an extra hour to acquaint himself with the system).  There's nothing wrong with that, provided you're not bankrolling his practical maintenance education.  Most mechanics are fair and honest and won't bill you for their mistakes or time overruns unless it's fair to do so.  Yes, there are times it's fair to bill you for more than the quoted or estimated time.  Airplanes are just like people--they have their own quirks, especially when they get older.  Sometimes it takes time to sort through the other guy's work or poor documentation.

The reward for finding a good mechanic is more of this and less cursing like a sailor.

After experience, what else is there?  Availability?  That's important, too, since you need someone that can help you in a reasonable amount of time when needed or who will answer the phone when you have a question.  This is not to say that you should be able to drop in whenever you please.  It's great if that's an option, but often, highly skilled and sought-after maintenance providers will have a backlog of business.  Plan ahead for what you can anticipate to make their lives easier.

What else?  Here's the one thing I never thought of: Attitude and personality.  You can have a perfectly capable mechanic who's available and willing to work on your airplane, and it might still be a mistake.  How?  Well, personalities and attitudes can clash.  It doesn't make anyone evil or incapable.  It just means that there is a larger consideration to make when selecting someone to trust your aircraft to.  You see, what they don't tell you is that picking the wrong mechanic can damage your confidence in your airplane.  If you are a type A detail-oriented owner and your mechanic has a more laissez-faire approach to maintenance, you might get irritated by the fingerprints left on the airplane or relaxed timeline for work to be done.  Correspondingly, if you don't mind accomplishing maintenance tasks progressively, but your mechanic refuses to let the airplane out of the hangar without everything done at once, you likely won't be happy.  If you're a cautious person (let's not forget the "dating stage" of aircraft ownership, where everything is still new), you might want someone who's willing to explain things to you or who will take an extra step here or there to make you comfortable.

 So, by now you probably have the grin of a Cheshire cat and are just itching to know how I learned this one . . . and it all started with a leaky carb.  It was discovered that the carb on the Oklahoma Kid had the incorrect throttle body, and the carb was leaking a bit.  No big deal--just remove it and have it rebuilt.  I found a mechanic who had rebuilt several carbs and who was very helpful in orchestrating a near-even trade for my A-65 throttle body with a local engine builder.  It saved me some money and avoided a Cub part gathering dust in the hangar (it's gathering dust in someone else's hangar ;)).  During the rebuild, the mechanic found that the vent relocation service bulletin had not been done on this carb.  The relocation moves the vent higher to prevent fuel from dripping out through the vent (this is unique to tailwheel airplanes with the Stromberg carb--it was designed for a tricycle gear airplane and apparently does not exhibit this tendency in airplanes that sit much flatter).  The mechanic complied with the service bulletin and the carb was reinstalled.  It looked great!

After installation, the airplane just didn't sound right.  I mentioned this to the mechanic and he ran the throttle back and forth to ensure it didn't hesitate.  It ran up just fine, so off I went.  The idle was a real bear to set.  It would run rough at certain rpms and hesitate and then come up in power.  Some of that is normal--there is an idle circuit that the carb uses for idle power and a separate circuit for higher power (don't ask me specifics on this, and definitely don't count on me for mechanical advice).  There is a transition zone that, I am told, starts at about 900 rpm and goes to about 1300 rpm.  During the transition the engine is running on both circuits.  (Note: Someone correct me if I have recalled anything incorrectly)

The power would come up smoothly to a certain rpm, hesitate, and then come up again and act normally.  I wasn't particularly thrilled, but wrote it off as the woes of cracking open a carb, which is known to run on black magic and fairy dust.  I began to feel like I was crazy for thinking this wasn't normal, and the mechanic was getting frustrated trying to continually set the idle so the airplane didn't hesitate.  I once told him that the Kid sounded like a tractor, and his response was "well, it basically is a tractor engine, so that's normal."  So, I went on with the carb as-is. 

Then, I was preparing for a cross-country trip to Lee Bottom in Indiana.  Since the airplane had been down for a few months--and there's another story there--I decided to take it on a shakedown trip to visit the fine folks over at Dakota Cub Aircraft in Brandon, South Dakota.  The trip went just fine, with a stop midway for fuel.  I was a little surprised to calculate that the airplane had burned over 6 gallons per hour, but figured I might have not recalled the exact flight time.  I vowed to pay more attention at the next fuel stop.

More of this.  Less sitting inside.  You won't find a happier-looking Cub on the planet!

I arrived at DCA without a problem.  The next day, a friend wanted to fly the Kid so I gave him my credit card and said he had to put gas in it when he was done.  When he gave me the receipt my eyes bulged a bit.  She had burned 6.7 gallons per hour, which was a heck of a lot more than the 5-5.5 gallons per hour that is typical for an 85 hp Continental.  I departed and got gas midway home again, and this time she burned an even 7 gph.  I was thoroughly puzzled.

I went to take off and the engine really stumbled as I brought the power up.  I aborted the takeoff and did another runup.  It sounded like it had since we put the carb on--not great, but nothing different.  I decided to make another takeoff attempt.  The runway was several thousand feet, so I had plenty of room to land if necessary.  I will say there was no feeling of aloneness quite like being the only soul at an unfamiliar airport 100-something miles from home.

The engine did not stumble as it previously had, and I was on my way, albeit cautiously.  I landed safely at home, but had officially decided something was amiss.

I spoke to the mechanic about the stumble and the high fuel burn.  He told me it could be the prop, which was something I had not considered or heard of.  However, I have flown (and bought gas for) a few Cubs with the same or similar engines and a variety of props and none came close to that fuel burn.  I started asking around.  Please note that I do not claim to be an expert, but what little experience I do have is pretty well concentrated into this aircraft type. 

I learned to fly in a Cub at a flight school that operates three J3s, and one of my instructors also operated the Cub Club type club.  I asked him about it and he immediately mentioned the service bulletin.  Apparently, there is a little gotcha in the vent relocation service bulletin.  As I recall from our discussion, you can't just drill a hole--you need to add a little divot around the hole.  I'm told that this keeps things flowing through the carb smoothly.  If it's not done, things get turbulent and the airplane will run extra rich.  Guess what?  It causes a rough idle and high fuel burn.  I mentioned this to another mechanic and said I would have to ask the carb rebuilder about it.

The next day, before I had the chance to talk to the mechanic who rebuilt the carb, the mechanic came over to chat.  He mentioned he had been thinking about my problem, and that he thought it was the vent relocation service bulletin.  It turns out the other mechanic had said something before I had the chance to.  They removed the carb together and sure enough, no divot (highly technical term, I know).  It was added and the carb was reinstalled.

The Oklahoma Kid was a whole new airplane.  Her idle was smooth, the transition zone didn't sound like an old Farmall, and she hasn't stumbled or hesitated on takeoff since.  It was absolutely night and day, and I had mixed emotions about it.

On the one hand, I realized I wasn't crazy.  The airplane hadn't been running right from the get-go.  On the other hand, there was weeks of a lingering distrust of my gut from being told that this was normal and not feeling as though my concerns were being taken seriously.

That was the tough part.  I was putting up with something I wasn't happy with, ceding to the mechanic's experience and confidence in himself.  Then it turned out I had good reason to not be happy with how the airplane ran.  Sure, I felt a little vindicated in that I was right, but the bigger issue was one of confidence.  What if the next issue resulted in an [unintentional] off-airport landing?  There's not a lot of places to land where I'm based.  I was thoroughly confused because I wanted someone to trust and confide in, but I felt like my concerns were brushed off.

Does this make the mechanic a bad guy?  No, I don't think so.  Everyone is human and aircraft maintenance professionals carry a huge responsibility every day.  He fixed the mistake, and I can't forget that he helped me find an affordable way to get the parts for my carb.  However, I've learned that our personalities just don't mesh.  This mechanic would often talk to another mechanic about the carb rebuild and I'd get the information secondhand.  No one meant ill by it, but it was upsetting to receive updates on my airplane from someone else who got them first and relayed them to me.  If I'm paying the bills, I want to be the one hearing from the shop.  So, lesson learned--for me, the personality and approach to my concerns is something of great importance to me in an aircraft mechanic.  I'm willing to admit that that might make me a little higher-maintenance than some owners.  I've accepted that and I'm ok with it.

Note that none of the aforementioned owner or mechanic stereotypes are bad--they just have different approaches to keeping aircraft airworthy and safe.  It's up to you to find someone that fits with your personality.  Maintenance is inevitable.  If you don't trust or like your mechanic, you won't be happy.  Unhappy people don't fly their airplane, and may end up selling it.  Do your homework ahead of time and don't just pick the cheapest or closest mechanic available.

Obviously, I'm most like the final owner stereotype.  I feel better when I understand what's happening and why.  That means I want a mechanic who is willing to listen to my comments and issues, take them seriously (because they're serious to me, even if they are no big deal to him), and educate me on possible courses of action or explanations.  If my mechanic makes me feel stupid for being worried about something, it damages my confidence (especially if I later discover there was something wrong).  Not everyone is like me, but I found out in the first year of ownership that experience and availability aren't the only important factors in finding a mechanic.  Consider personality and attitude in your search for a maintenance provider.  Check with your fellow aircraft type owners for recommendations, and ask around.  Decide if you want to do things like help on an annual or just hand over a check, and then ensure that your mechanic and you have the same philosophy.  You wouldn't propose on the first date, right?  Don't wait to pick your mechanic until the first time you have an issue to fix.

And when you do find the right one?  Thank them and treat them well.  Send them a card or a gift basket or buy them lunch.  Remember that everyone is human and invest in a long-term relationship.  You can thank me later (I accept a wide variety of frozen treats).




On that note, good luck and happy mechanic hunting!

--Amy

P.S. If you have a Stromberg carb, there is some great reading here!  http://thestrombergspecialist.com/index.php

. . . that sounded way less nerdy when I first typed it . . .

Misadventures in Aircraft Ownership

After discussing some of the headaches involved in aircraft ownership on Facebook, I half-jokingly said I should resurrect this blog and title it "Misadventures in Aircraft Ownership."  Surprisingly, a few people indicated they'd like to see such a thing, so here we are.  I'm not overhauling the blog entirely and making it all about my ownership oopses, but I will tag any related posts "Misadventures in Aircraft Ownership" and will title any posts starting with "MIAO."

To kick things off, things to consider when you are first struck with the genius thought "Hey!  I should totally buy an airplane!"

1.) Define your mission.  The best description I heard of this came from a fellow named Bill Rusk who is working on building his second experimental Super Cub.  "Build for 90% of your flying" is his motto, and it holds true for those of us that decided we'd much rather fly something that someone else built.  Sure, a go-fast airplane would be pretty cool, as would be something that goes upside-down, but that is a very small part of my mission.  I am, at my core, a "puddlejumper" as a wise old man once told me.  You need to be very honest with yourself during this process.  If you over- or under-buy to meet your mission, you won't be happy.  Compromise is a necessity, but you need to be aware of what you're compromising on.  Otherwise, you'll be unhappy down the road and may end up blaming the whole concept of aircraft ownership for your discontent, when the root cause may just be that you bought the wrong airplane. 

2.) Research heavily.  Think about airplanes that would meet your mission (keeping in mind your mission may change in the future).  Once you've narrowed your options down, become involved in the community.  Go fly an RV, or take a BFR in a Citabria.  There's no sense falling in love with the idea of an airplane and then finding out it's terribly uncomfortable for you (or your significant other).  You might want to consider renting for several hours if it's possible, or becoming involved in a type group or type club to get experience with the airplane you're considering.

3.) Get your financing (if needed) in order.  Now that you've selected an airplane, you can research the approximate prices for what you're looking for.  This might be a good time for a reality check . . . but better now than later.  Things to consider include investigating multiple lenders and comparing their offerings.  Credit unions are a great option with some preferable interest rates, but they may require a higher down payment.  Do your research ahead of time, and you'll be able to plan for the appropriate down payment in advance.  

4.) Start with a soft inquiry.  The best deals in aviation tend to happen outside of Barnstormers and Trade-a-Plane and are complete before the airplane in question could even be listed.  It bears noting that you should not be in a hurry to choose an aircraft model or to choose a candidate for purchase.  I told a few friends in  November of 2013 I was going to start looking for an airplane in the next six months or so, with a goal of owning an airplane by the end of summer.  Disclaimer:  That was an entirely arbitrary timeline.  I figured I could talk myself out of buying an airplane, so I set a deadline of my 25th birthday back when I was still in college.  You may or may not want to give yourself a timeline, but, if you do, be sure it's conservative.  Things happen. 

Inquire with friends, on type forums, and at local airports.  If you don't hear of anything after a while (and "a while" may vary depending upon your goals), start looking on websites like Barnstormers, Trade-a-Plane, Controller, ASO, etc., as well as the classifieds on type forums.  I started looking at Barnstormers and Trade-a-Plane about the same time I started telling a few folks to keep their eyes open for any good deals.  This allowed me to have a basic understanding of asking prices in advance (note: asking price is not necessarily equal to selling price.  It's common sense but easy to forget once you start to get attached to an airplane). 

Another key thing to consider is that your previous involvement in a community and their awareness of your search for an airplane will help you find an appropriate person to do your prebuy.  

5.) Research some more.

6.) When you find a good candidate, you have a few options.  First, go see the airplane, decide if you're interested, and then schedule a prebuy.  This is what I did, but it requires multiple trips and you run the risk of falling in love with the airplane before you can get an objective opinion of it from a neutral third party.  I felt fairly confident I could figure out if the airplane was a total pile or likely ok, and I wanted to get the prebuy scheduled relatively quickly if it turned out ok.  This was because the Kid was a pretty good deal for what I got, but you have to temper hastiness with steady resolve. 

The second option is to schedule the prebuy and do the prebuy as soon as you see the airplane.  If you go this route, it means you've been in contact with the seller in advance.  Ideally, your mechanic should have gotten an electronic copy of the logbooks to review for any showstoppers prior to inspecting the airplane.  The seller may request some earnest money in exchange for you coming to poke at their airplane, since they will want to be able to tell other prospective buyers that you're making a trip to inspect the aircraft. 

A prebuy may also (and arguably should also) include a chance to fly the airplane.  This is subject to the seller's comfort level, insurance, and annual status.  You might very well go along for a ride and never touch the controls if the seller isn't comfortable with a stranger flying their airplane.  When I bought the Kid, I rode in the back seat and the seller did the takeoff and landing.  I made some turns and Dutch rolls, checked oil temperature and pressure, airspeed, and general rigging. 

Most people will say that a prebuy should basically entail an annual (the higher priced the airplane, the more intensive the inspection).  In fact, many people will advise you to have the prebuy done as an annual.  If everything looks good, you have a fresh annual and a solid understanding of the airplane's potential issues.  If it doesn't, you can start figuring out what it will cost you to get the airplane where you want it or need it to be, from both a pilot preference and airworthiness perspective.  It should go without saying that the prebuy should not be done by the seller's mechanic (in most cases).  They're probably perfectly capable mechanics, but they are likely not the ones that will be maintaining the airplane going forward.  Exceptions include well-regarded mechanics in the community that others besides the seller vouch for.  Otherwise, find someone you trust and get their professional opinion.  It might be expensive to do a thorough prebuy, but it's more expensive to do a cursory one and find all of the issues later.  Also, don't be afraid to wave off the airplane over a prebuy.  You are under no obligation to buy the airplane, unless you signed a contract in advance.  Be sure to consider what are "no-go" issues for you, including a total dollar value of discrepancies. 

7.) After you've evaluated the results of your prebuy, make an offer or run away.  You might already have an offer existing that's contingent on the results of the prebuy.  At this point, you should be well-versed in what you're looking for in an airplane, what you're willing to spend, and what the market looks like--or you should have someone there to guide you along. 

8.) Go get your airplane!

This feels like a very brief overview, but I'm sure you'll hear more about my misadventures in future posts.  Additionally, if this sounds intimidating or confusing, don't underestimate the value of knowledgeable folks in the field.  These can be experienced maintainers, pilots, builders, etc.  You can also engage a skilled aircraft sales specialist to find you an airplane and handle all of the paperwork.  You'll pay more for this, but aircraft sales representatives can find airplanes that aren't listed and likely have extensive experience with your aircraft type (or can find you someone who does).  Most smaller aircraft don't have a high enough margin to warrant a sales representative, but you can always seek one out.  More complex aircraft are much more likely to be represented by a sales department. 

That's all for now . . .

--Amy

It Takes a Village

I've decided that the notion that I own an airplane is a foolish belief for a few reasons:

1.) A bank still owns more of the Oklahoma Kid than I do.
2.) The airplane will hopefully outlive me, making me a temporary custodian.
3.) It's really impossible to own an airplane without a veritable village of people helping you out.

As for #1, well, that will eventually change.  Regarding #2, if I don't screw up too badly, that will come true in time as well.  #3 is one of those eternal truths that's just not going anywhere.

In fact, I wouldn't own the Oklahoma Kid without a laundry list of good (and bad?) influences prodding me along.  The Kid was found by a friend I had spoken with a few months earlier, asking him to keep an ear to the ground for any Cubs coming up for sale.  A significant amount of research was done in advance with several folks reminding me to ask certain questions, look for specific things in the logbooks, and to poke at certain areas during the prebuy inspection. 

The technical assistance was one matter.  Whether foolish or not, I felt pretty solid in evaluating the airplane (with the requisite surprises) on the technical front.  The mental side of purchasing an airplane is a WHOLE different matter.  You see, there is really no good time in life to buy an airplane.  That would be akin to saying that there is a good time to light a stack of cash on fire just for grins and giggles.  I suppose there are less bad times to do that, but, the fact of the matter is, you can talk yourself out of buying an airplane forever and ever until you're looking back on life wondering what the hell just happened to the last umpteen years. 

The mental gymnastics are far more complex than the technical issues.  Technical issues have a way out, a starting and stopping point.  The decision to buy an airplane can be far more taxing.  I consider myself a relatively responsible person in regards to my finances.  I started a retirement account in college and increase my contributions to my 401(k) when possible.  I overpay on my student loans and am set to pay another of my loans off in full in the next month or so.  The notion of adding a few hundred dollars a month to own an airplane was difficult to swallow.  That money could mean a nicer car, or bigger student loan payments, or a bigger retirement contribution, or some seriously nice pairs of shoes. 

This is where friends come in--the kind that can look at you and call "Bullshit" when you start offering up reasons that could be considered excuses.  In fact, I called a trusted friend and started off with small talk about the airplane, kind of beating around the bush.  Then I piped up and said, "I'm running out of reasons to talk myself out of buying this thing, but I still don't know . . . it's a lot of money."  His response?  "You put more planning into things than anyone I know.  You can talk yourself out of anything. There's never anything practical about buying an airplane, and you're just making up excuses now. Go buy the damn thing!"

So I bought an airplane. 

The follow-on to this, of course, is that the village is just as necessary AFTER you bring your new family member home.  There's a lot of "What was that?" and "Is that normal?" in the first weeks and months of owning a new airplane.  It's what I refer to as the "dating stage" of aircraft ownership, where you're both still getting to know each other.  Just like a new relationship, the euphoria of your airplane purchase soon fades into the reality of caring for a mechanical creature.  While you're find out all of your airplane's quirks and creaks, you call a fair amount of people to make sure it's normal.  When it's not, you need that village even more.

The Kid hasn't been awful in any regard, but she's tossed me a few curve balls--even in areas I knew we had to address.  It's part of the game.  Fundamentally, you can pay now or pay later.  I chose to pay later and buy an airplane that will require both a certain and uncertain amount of work in the coming years.  For me, this allowed me to afford an airplane I otherwise couldn't have.  There were no PA-11s in my price range, let alone ones that came with floats, skis, and a spare prop.  

Now, as I approach the first annual under my ownership, I called upon my village of friends and aviation family members to find a trusted person to take care of the Kid.  With almost a year of ownership, it's a neat time to reflect on all of the people that made it possible.  

You know who you are--and thank you.

--Amy