Time machine
Aircraft ownership enables feat of New England logistics
Before buying our aircraft, a 1992 Rockwell Commander 114B that we named Annie, my wife, Alex, and I spent years researching different types to find the right fit. Our due diligence included perusing brochures and videos used to promote the aircraft when new.
Commander Aircraft Corp., which restarted production of the 114 in the early 1990s after acquiring the Rockwell design, touted its airplane as the ideal tool for business owners who needed to meet with customers based in cities and towns far from the hubs and spokes of airline operations. In one video a Commander touches down gracefully on a remote turf strip, saving money and time by flying direct.
Those business folks buying Commanders decades ago were comparing general aviation travel with airline service. We are happy that Annie reliably outruns our car on trips spanning a few Northeast states. When friends ask if the convenience of GA travel is worth the cost of ownership, we say it is. But as we confirmed during a recent weekend trip to Massachusetts, “convenience” does not fully characterize the benefits.
Our older son was rowing in the annual Head of the Charles Regatta on Boston’s Charles River on Sunday. There was a team dinner Saturday evening and Alex, who also rowed in college, was invited to an afternoon alumni event celebrating the renovation of her old boathouse. She had to work in the morning, so time was tight. Having an airplane unlocked possibilities.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s a short hop. We’ll have plenty of time.” Indeed, we traded a drive of at least four hours for a 75-minute flight. I had monitored the weather all week in anticipation of flying the lovely route over winding rivers, changing foliage, and scenic roads and bridges where we might otherwise be sitting in weekend traffic.
Early Saturday morning I flew from our home airport in Blairstown, New Jersey, to Caldwell, which is under the 3,000-foot New York Class B shelf. The towered field has a yearslong waiting list for hangars but is minutes from home and offers a quicker getaway. Once beyond New York’s airspace we climbed to 5,500 feet and caught a 10-knot tailwind. The weather was perfect. We landed at Norwood Memorial Airport, picked up our rental car, and—after the brief distraction of a beautiful Cessna 195 parked near the Boston Executive FBO—we were on our way. We arrived at the river about 30 minutes later feeling like we ruled our destiny for a day at least.
GA pilots know all too well how fragile flying plans can be. Missions that do not work out can be disappointing, but that experience often sweetens the satisfaction of a successful sortie. For years I felt lucky to complete a single travel-related task in a weekend. With the airplane, though, we combined a visit with our son, hours of enjoying one of our favorite sports, socializing with friends and, lots of leaf-peeping—plus the joy of flying.
