I last flew
the Oklahoma Kid on December 17th, 2015, when I ferried her a short
ways from home (South St. Paul – Fleming Field) to a nearby airport to have her
wings and engine removed. Progress has
been made but it’s been stymied here and there as projects are. Most recently, I was on a back-to-back (to
back to back . . .) round of travel that took me east to Washington, DC, and
Florida, west to Shanghai, and a few places in-between. Unfortunately, the travel schedules and a few
other life events lined up such that I haven’t been able to work on the
airplane since the end of March.
 |
| Things you should never have to do: Cut out a large (recognizable!) piece of your beloved airplane. It's for the best, but it was painful. |
In the
meantime, spring has decided to show up here in the upper Midwest, and it even seems
like it’s here to stay for a while. The
combination of a busy travel schedule, other work responsibilities (that don’t
take a holiday while you’re traveling), and life in general are enough to keep
you busy just keeping your head above water, and everything else takes a back
seat. Then, suddenly, it’s 75 degrees
out, sunny, with a light breeze straight down the runway and the familiar ache
surfaces. When you’re busy, it’s easy to
forget or forego the things that bring you joy in favor of practical tasks like
ensuring you have clean underwear. It’s
a part of life, and it’s fine until you get the reflective moment where you remember
the pure and unadulterated joy of escaping the ground for a few laps around the
pattern or a quick jaunt down the river—and then you realize you can’t have
that.
 |
| The first stop of the whirlwind travel tour: Washington, DC at the peak of the cherry blossoms, though I only got a quick glimpse on my ride to and from the airport. |
At least,
you can’t have it right now. That serves
two purposes. First, it lights a fire
under your butt to want to do everything you can to get your magic carpet back
in flying form. Sometimes reality gets
in the way of this timeline, whether in the shape of other obligations (like
helping a parent get ready to sell their house, or getting car maintenance
done, or myriad other things) or the financial requirements. If you’re really lucky, you get to combine
the other obligations with several other unplanned expenditures totaling in the
thousands. Anyways, the second impact is
more complex. Emotions always are. You feel a longing to return to that previous
life you had, where there was an airplane ready in the hangar. You feel upset at yourself for not getting
more done. You feel depressed realizing
the pure numbers involved (projects never do go according to plan), and wonder
when you’ll be able to get your airplane back.
You feel generally cranky because, truth be told, a piece of you is
missing.
 |
| The most recent progress was at the end of March, covering the two new stabilizers I ordered. |
This, of
course, is why everyone should have more than one airplane. In an ideal world, you could take one or even
two down for maintenance and still have something to fly. If you have found that ideal world, please
let me know. I’m available for adoption.
 |
| Next stop: Florida (Round 1). Lovely weather for a pasty Midwesterner to be outside ;) |
I have to
admit, I’m a bit of a one-trick pony.
The overwhelming majority of my time in the air is in some form of a
Cub. Sure, I should branch out more and
fly other airplanes, but I don’t regret a single minute in the air in a
Cub—even the uncomfortable ones. I find
myself fortunate to have fallen so deeply in love with an airplane and a way of
life so early in my aviation involvement.
And sure, I recently stated that if all I ever had to fly was a humble
Cessna 172, I would be happy because flying is flying—and that’s still true. But there will never, in my mind, be any equal
to the simple, unfiltered joy of flying a Cub.
 |
| After two days at home, Florida (Round 2). Improved weather, plus airplanes. |
All that
said, I love a lot of different airplanes and I’d love to fly a lot more. However, if all I ever am is “nothing but a
Cub pilot,” that’s ok too.
Four and a
half months after doing the dumbest thing of my life (dismantling my wonderful
little airplane), I had the opportunity to go fly another yellow airplane, but
not a Cub. It was similar in form, a
descendant of the Cub’s arch rival, and I was one lost and confused little Cub
pilot. Electrical systems, switches,
boost pumps, props, radios, and gauges—it was all doable, things I was capable
of managing, but it was one hell of a study in contrasts. I think maybe differences are more pronounced
when there is some expectation that items will be similar. I wouldn’t step into a King Air expecting
much to look comfortingly familiar, but a tandem, fabric-covered taildragger is
a bit closer in nature, yet it’s quite nuanced in its differences.
 |
| After another two days at home, hello, Shanghai! (No, that's not fog) |
 |
| Same view at night. |
 |
| Ok, this one might be partially fog |
I should
mention that there once was a time when I felt perfectly at home in a Cub or
Cub variant. I’m willing to admit that
this might have been a false sense of security that comforted me, but I was
accustomed to the airplane feeling like a well-worn sweatshirt. It was familiar, a little musty-smelling perhaps,
and welcoming. I knew its quirks and
personality traits, its starting tendencies and those little noises. Now, however, is a different time. Over the past few years, I have flown
less. First, I didn’t have an airplane,
so I bought one, and now I keep taking it apart (someday I’ll learn). I look forward to regaining that sense of
belonging, but, for now, I’m conscious of the fact that I’m not as proficient
as I once was. I pay more attention to
my state of mind, the weather, and the mechanical condition of the
airplane. That’s not a bad thing, but it
is to say that I’m very aware of the rust collecting on my flying skills.
 |
| After a whole week at home (the luxury!), this one was for fun :) |
This
degradation of my proficiency was fully evident to me as I clambered into a
comparatively strange airplane. I went out
of my way to not assume I knew what was next, asked for clarification and
direction, and generally tried not to screw it up too badly. Everything felt different, and sometimes it
was hard to tell if it was because I had forgotten how to fly an airplane or if
I was actually picking up on some characteristics that distinguished the two
airplane types. “Why won’t you talk to
me?” I wondered to the airplane. “Why
won’t you do what I want you to do? Why
do I have to think so much about this?”
 |
| After four days at home plus late-night unplanned car issues, it was up to Anchorage, Alaska, for the Great Alaska Aviation Gathering. Landed back home at 5:40 Monday morning, caught a nap, and went back to work. |
Of course,
the airplane was talking—I just hadn’t figured out how to listen to it. I missed the sensation of feeling at ease and
in control, not needing to think about minute tasks like setting the trim just
so or where to find the oil temperature gauge.
But, with a little time, things became less clunky and forced. I was still very aware of the variances
between this airplane and my beloved Cubs, but it wasn’t quite so painful. By the end of it all, I was even having fun
and didn’t feel like a total floundering idiot.
Yes, you
read that correctly—I flew something other than a Cub and enjoyed it. It is, in fact, possible. All that said, you shouldn’t hold your breath
on me going out of my way to fly other airplanes while mine is still in
pieces. Finances and time are, first and
foremost, dedicated to getting Cubby back in one airworthy piece. Once she is back in her home hangar and
flyable, you’ll have a hard time convincing me to spend money or time on any
airplane other than her—after all, we will have to make up for lost time!
 |
| In the saga of unplanned expenses, this one is canine in nature. Who knew doggy tooth extractions (necessitated by a tooth getting broken) could be more expensive than my unplanned car repairs, and on par with the excision of my abnormal mole? In any case, I'm hoping we're done with expensive surprises for a while. |
In the
meantime when I can’t work on the Oklahoma Kid, I’ll occasionally slip into the
Barnstormers trap and daydream about a second airplane. Someday, I won’t have to go months without
flying while my proficiency and confidence slowly seep away. If you’re considering airplane ownership, I
implore you to consider the insanity of multiple airplane ownership—sure, you’ll
have more bills, but I think it might just beat the insanity of the pilot that
can’t fly!
More rebuild
progress to ensue this weekend, and I can’t wait!
--Amy
