In all that time I never came close to running out of fuel nor did I have a close call with instrument meteorological conditions.
My flying experience was the result of a number of factors.The first was cost. I rarely had enough money to pay for more than a two hour flight.Secondly, I was renting aircraft and the scheduling problems and other limitations made it difficult to take a plane for a weekend trip.
Lastly, I was afraid. I was terrified of dying in an airplane crash.
Very early in my flight training I came face to face with the harsh reality of death in general aviation. Over a period of 18 months, during my private pilot flight training, seven people I knew died in five separate crashes.
Many years have passed and I now know that what I experienced was a statistical anomaly. At the time, however, I believed this frequent personal connection with flying and death was normal. I regularly read the NTSB reports and they seemed to confirm my conclusion.
I kept flying in the wake of all this death because every accident had been a result of weather or stupidity. In one case it was a combination of both. I simply told myself that as long as I avoided weather I would reduce my chances of dying significantly.
Trying to avoid doing something stupid was a little harder. There is so much to learn about flying that sometimes you don't know something is stupid until you've done it. Combine this with someone who has long history of stupidity, and this could be a problem for me.
Now, I am in the early stages of instrument flight training and am also a partner in a Cessna Cardinal.The IFR training has caused me to spend time learning about weather in much greater detail. The Cardinal has allowed me to take trips to places I wouldn't have dreamed of before. These two factors have clearly raised my chances of becoming another NTSB statistic.
So why the hell do it? Why not just keep piddling around in the airport's backyard on those calm summer afternoons? In this way I will drastically reduce my chances of something bad happening to me in an airplane.
The answer for me is, adventure. I want to go to distant and new places and see and experience the amazing world beyond my horizon. I don't know how I got this way and it probably doesn't matter.
As a result of my new knowledge, Linda and I made a flight yesterday that I would not have contemplated a year ago.
The flight was a short, two-leg from STS (Santa Rosa) to APC (Napa) to CCR (Concord). The stop in Napa was for Linda to handle a notary signing. At Concord we would play the nine-hole golf course next to the airport.
The weather forecasts the night before the flight suggested marginal conditions. Possible fog and broken to scattered low clouds. The temperature would be a balmy 60 degrees and the winds were forecast calm. A year ago I would have ended my hope for the flight the night before. A lot of clouds in the sky meant I wasn't flying. Now however, the flight was a "maybe".
I woke early on Saturday morning to clear skies over Cloverdale. While this was a good sign, I knew conditions at STS could be quite different. They were. Santa Rosa was LIFR with haze and two layers of low clouds. A quick check of surrounding airports, including Concord revealed some hope for the flight. Concord was CAVU. Napa was scattered at 1100. The central California valley was also CAVU. The STS forecast was improving to VFR by 11 am.
Now the flight had gone from a "maybe" to a "probable" assuming the forecast was correct. So Linda and I packed up our stuff and headed for the airport.
At this point I did have doubts, and not just about the weather. Was I making an intelligent and considered analysis here, or was I just being stupid for trying to make this flight? What if things got worse once we were in the air? What if, what if, what if????? Do I second-guess myself too much? Not enough? How the hell do I know?
We got to the airport and the clouds at the south end of the airport were at 600 feet. At the north end, there were none. At this revelation I started thinking about a "special VFR" departure, even though I had never requested one.
I decided to load the aircraft and wait and see. Linda dragged out the golf clubs and the lunch cooler and began packing them away. I supervised, which is something I'm quite good at.
"Let's go to Starbucks and give the weather some time to clear," I suggest. Linda, with visions of low-fat crappa-latta mocha dancing in her head, quickly agrees.
A half hour later the conditions over the airport have turned to VFR and we decide to make the flight.
As we climb out from STS we see a broken to over-cast layer en route to our destination.
It is important to note for those unfamiliar with the area that this is a very short flight to Napa, about twenty minutes.
I would like to mention that there would be many an experienced pilot who would say to me at this point, "You, sir, are a pansy ass. If you stress over such a minor risk, perhaps you shouldn't be flying." It's possible they would have a point. On the other hand, I have no intention of quitting now.
Once we were over Sonoma Valley the cloud layer thinned out. We found ourselves amongst a spectacular display of beauty. Blue skies, soft cumulus and the welcoming green of Sonoma's wine country.
After Linda had taken care of business in Napa we took time out for an executive lunch. Homemade salad, bananas with a health food bar for dessert. We may fly around in an airplane, but Linda ensures we do it as cheaply as possible!
Lunch over, we re-check the weather to see if conditions appear to be as forecast. Apparently they are, so we depart for the short 10 minute flight to Concord. A few clouds appear in the distance, while a thin stratus layer hangs far above.
I don't think these are rice paddies but they look like it.
On final for 1R, the clouds are no longer a factor. . However, I have no intention of forgetting about them. The dew point spread is within a few degrees and through-out our nine holes of golf I frequently scan the sky for any sign of building clouds.
You can see the driving range for the golf course in the bottom of the picture
After the game, we return to Santa Rosa in clear skies. My tentative steps into "weather" flying (yeah, I know - this is clearly NOT weather flying) have proven reasonable and safe.
I didn't run out of gas and I didn't die, so I guess I remain a safe pilot.
Gary
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