Friday, March 2, 2018

Chapter 2 Finding a Mouse

Finding a Mouse

The search


As I progressed further into the training, many discussions with Dave and the hangers-on at the hangar as well as with the Redhead began to paint a picture of the potential uses of a license and airplane ownership's impact on those uses.

Most pilot's wives do not fly with them at all. Those that do, mostly do it with a "wifely duty" attitude and white knuckles. Sandra was different. Her encouragement of my efforts was contagious. Her enthusiasm about flying with me once I had the license was palpable and genuine.

Being an incurable pragmatist, I had no desire to use my newfound skill just to bore holes in the local sky. I read articles about those who had never been further from home base than they could go on one tank of fuel. To me that was boring and Sandra agreed emphatically. If I was going to fly and have an enthusiastic co-pilot, we would have to use the skill for some purpose. The idea came to visit all 48 contiguous states. The long term cost of that in rental airplanes would be exorbitant and highly unreliable. That meant that we would have to have some form of guaranteed access to a suitable plane.

I started looking at the costs of ownership and flight and found that the ongoing cost (fixed and operating expenses) would be less than the cost of rental if we flew more than 100 hours a year. To reach the 48 state goal, we could probably make that easily. Besides, we were both nearing retirement and the plane would be a nice magic carpet for retirement. Get up in the morning, check the weather and go where it ain't. Get up the next morning, check the weather and go where it ain't.

The choice to buy was now between sole ownership and a partnership. This choice would be dictated by the purchase price of a suitable plane. The purchase price does not figure in the calculations of costs, that price is an investment. Virtually all used airplanes are worth more now that they were new. Well maintained, they still do not depreciate, and most major maintenance adds comparable value to the airplane which then depreciates until that maintenance is due again. The only consideration was whether we could find a suitable plane at a price we could swing alone.

Ah, how to determine a suitable plane? The Redhead and I weigh more than 400 lbs. If we were to make cross country flights, the plane must be able to carry more than 500 pounds of bodies and baggage and enough fuel for long flights. This eliminated the Piper Cub types immediately as their useful load (bodies, baggage and fuel) is less than 500 pounds. The Cherokee I was learning in had a useful load of 600 pounds which would be absolutely minimal. Cessna Skyhawks carried 700-900 pounds, so they would be much better. Both of these types are extensively used by flying schools and are therefore expensive as the demand is high. Prices start in the high 20s for average condition, reasonable equipment and high time engines.

I start looking at planes on the net. Most of the broker sites will allow a search with a maximum price, so I limit searches to 40K. Up to this time, all I knew about Beechcraft (now Raytheon) was Bonanzas. That is way too much airplane and the cheapest dog generally starts above 50K. But I see Musketeers, Sundowners and Sports at far less than 40. What are these?


Just as Piper hoped to lure pilots from the Cherokee 140 they learned in into the Cherokee 6, Commanche and Arrow, Starting in 63, Beech made a line of simple airplanes. The line was called Musketeer. The original model was A23 and by the late 60s, there was the A23A and the B19 and the A24 in the family. The A23 and B19s were extensively used by flight schools then, but not any longer. In 70 they renamed the entire line. The B19 retained the Sport name but dropped the Musketeer prefix. The A24 became the B24 Sierra and the A23 line became the B23 Sundowner. The Sierra was a complex airplane (Retractable gear) and the Sundowner and Sport remained simple airplanes. The 24 series was out of the question even though the prices generally started under 50K. I didn't want the hassle and maintenance cost of a complex plane. The B19 series would suit the need minimally just as the Cherokee 140 would, so were not really viable.

The A23-B23 line was just right. The average useful load was 850-950 pounds and they would hold 60 gallons of gas, enough for four hours of flight with adequate reserves. Even though there were few on the market, lack of recognition and flight school usage led to low demand, so the prices were low. Flying planes could be had starting in the low 20s. And they were Beechcraft, which is a hallmark of quality. Further, they had the largest cabin in the class. Much bigger than the Piper lines and slightly bigger than the Cessna's. This size (frontal area) gave them a slightly lower cruise speed than the rest of the class, but the additional room and comfort seemed a good tradeoff.
In December I found one in the AOPA classifieds in Kentucky. 64 model with full IFR equipment, an 8/10 in and out, it said. The pictures indicated that it was so. The owner, Johnny Bullens, was asking 21,500, but he already had it sold he thought. So I went back to looking.

No plane to fly

The last week in January, another student (Not me! Not me!) had a small mishap in Dave's Cherokee. Turning from the taxiway to the ramp to Dave's hangar, a wheel dropped off the taxiway. Momentum then ran the plane into the culvert on the ramp entrance. The ground at this point is about 8 inches below the pavement. The tire blew. The wheel bent and broke. The strut bent. And the wing spar bent.

Repairs required a complete replacement of the wing and landing gear. This eventually took 9 weeks. I went from January 24 to March 11 without flying. Bummer!

When I finally got back in the left seat, it was the two steps back thing all over again. I was already having serious trouble with landings. Patterns and approaches were fine, but I couldn't seem to make that last 2 seconds consistent. So we worked on that the rest of March and into April, while....

The negotiations

On a whim while cooling my heels in February, I called Johnny to see if the Mouse had been sold. Surprise, the "buyer" couldn't come up with the money and Johnny was tired of the run around. The price was unchanged, but we only had to work out a sales agreement including transfer of the plane to Texas. So we exchanged proposed agreements and argued about the nits.Then the oil pump went out. The delivery date was pushed back into March. An attempt to repair the oil pump finished ruining the engine, so now Johnny was in a real bind. We haggled over sharing the cost of a complete overhaul of the engine, but that came to nothing.

Johnny found an engine in Florida which had been removed for an upgrade. It was high time, but in good condition according to it's records and the word of the owner. Johnny would put it in and still let me have the plane for the original price. Coming to this agreement was not as easy as it sounds. It almost fell completely through at least twice, but finally we got it arranged. It was still a good deal for me, but not as good as originally. It was unfortunate for him, but I had no responsibility for the oil pump problem or the more serious problem with the engine.

We now had to work out transfer (ferry) agreements and when the ownership of the plane would switch. As Johnny had thought the plane was sold, he had not renewed the insurance. As I was still a student, I could not fly the plane back to Texas. He wouldn't let it go under his ownership unless it was insured. He had had neck surgery and was off flying status. Problems, problems, problems.
I found a man working for American Airlines, trying to build time to get on the flight deck, who advertised ferrying on AOPA. His rates were $50 a day and expenses. Johnny and I worked it out that I would bind insurance on the day Brad arrived to inspect the airplane and if it was not substantially as advertised, Brad could refuse it and I would cancel the insurance and no one would be hurt.

Solo in a Cherokee


After the long layoff and even with the sure knowledge (We hoped) that we were getting our own plane, the work went on. Landings were getting better, but still not good enough to satisfy Dave or me. Finally, by the middle of April, I was making most landings passably.
So Saturday, April 15, 2000 was clear and calm. We did some touch and gos and Dave said "make the next one a full stop." As we came back up the taxiway. He told me to let him out and wait 'til he got the handheld radio from his hangar, then take it up for 2 T&Gs and another full stop.

SOLO! Nervous? Not me. Really, I was more concerned with making good landings than being nervous. It took a little more forward trim without Dave's 180 pounds, and I got to pattern altitude a little quicker. The first landing was not bad. The second one was OK. The last one registered on the Richter scale. But I had soloed.

Now, we started in on the cross country work. But first, a little explanation of terms used in cross country navigation. XC is usually used to abbreviate cross country. And there are a number of ways of getting from point A to point B.

The most basic method is dead reckoning. This implies flying a set course and speed for a set time and assuming that you will then be at your destination. This will only work if your course and speed are accurate (remember that wind will affect them). However, if you are over water (New York to Paris, anyone?) that was the only way. Over land, the more common method was called pilotage. You plot the course on the map and note any and all features near your route that will be recognizable from the air. You don't necessarily have to have a "checkpoint" in sight at all times, you can and do fly short periods of dead reckoning until the next point is identified. If you have any sense of direction, this is relatively simple. The perspective of terrain features viewed from the air is very different from the ground view, but is easy to become accustomed to.
More sophisticated are the navigational radios. The basic and oldest (Remember Amelia Earhart?) Navaid is ADF. Tuned to a radio station (NDB), it will tell you the relative direction from where you are to the transmitter. But it won't give you any clue as to where you are. The next level is VOR. Tuned to the VOR station, the instrument will tell you the compass bearing to or from the station to your current position. On the map, you can then draw a line at that bearing from the station and know that you are somewhere on that line. Some VOR stations and receivers will also tell you how far you are from the station. This is known as DME. If you can receive 2 VORs, you can plot a line from both of them and the intersection should be your exact position.

The "State of the art" in navigation now is GPS. It can tell you your current position to within 60 feet. It can also tell you your altitude, groundspeed and course. The aviation units also include a database of airports and a map. They show you as a little airplane moving over the map. Real neat!
The first XC was to Bowie, TX. Strictly by pilotage there. Plot the course on the sectional and fly by landmarks. Into a headwind all the way. I had no trouble staying at least near my course line and identified the Bowie airport before Dave did. Coming back, we dropped about 10 miles south and picked up the Bowie VOR for the return trip.

The next trip was to Durant, OK. This flight was VOR both ways.. Stay on course to the DUA VOR and use the bearing to other stations to determine your location along the bearing line. No problem. Then return using the reciprocal heading outbound from DUA.
But landings were still a problem. They were generally acceptable, but not good. The improvement was slow to imperceptible.