At the time, it was functional, a mishmash of brands and concepts, with technology that was old or even older. Most of it worked, a few things didn’t. It was the airplane version of a face only a mother could love. My intention was to fly it for a few years and make sure I wanted to keep the airplane while also taking notes about what I liked, what I wanted, and what I might need.
The airplane came with an Aspen EFD 1000 display, a Garmin 430W, and an S-TEC 30 autopilot. It also had an old King DME that had apparently been dead for several election cycles and a KX-165 radio that still worked, along with an old audio panel that got the job done. It also had a JPI fuel analyzer that was eerily accurate. As I got used to the airplane, the limitations of the autopilot were the first thing that got under my skin. It would not intercept a course with an intercept angle of more than a couple of degrees, and flying an ILS required the pilot to monitor and control the pitch while the unit would track the localizer. In heading mode, the turn rate was slow, and when turning or changing course at a fix, it would overshoot and S-turn until it was back on track. Effective, but crude.
At first, I was a bit skeptical about the Aspen, but I came to appreciate it, and it seemed to work well with the 430W. The 430W itself was fine until the first time I flew with it at night and realized that the backlighting for the buttons didn’t work, requiring a flashlight to see them. The 430W also doesn’t allow for programming your own holding patterns and doesn’t have any holds other than for a missed approach or a procedure turn, and this really torqued me.
When Garmin announced it had an end date for supporting the 430/530 line, I decided to get serious about making some changes. Avionics can be a major expense, even surpassing the value of the rest of the airplane. For me, this was going to be a one-shot deal, and I began in-depth research on my options.
Given that my primary mission is to fly cross-country, usually with my wife, I wanted an autopilot that would be up to the job and that I could easily teach Lisa to use if something were to happen to me in flight. What I quickly found was that the autopilot was going to drive the rest of my decision making. I worked with an avionics consultant and also had some productive conversations with the shop that I wanted to do the work. My initial hope was to avoid going with Garmin. Garmin reminds me of Apple in that they sometimes try to tell you what you’re going to like, even if you don’t like it, all while nickeling and diming for add-ons that should just be included. Garmin was also expensive, both to buy and to support down the road. At the time, the Garmin GFC 500 autopilot was having some well-documented pitch servo issues. I was leaning toward Avidyne because they had a true plug-and-play replacement for the 430W, which would be easy, but I didn’t want to solve only part of the issue of an aging panel.
My airplane is based in Clermont County, Ohio, home of Cincinnati Avionics. My initial point of contact was Scott Cole, a point-blank, no-holds-barred wealth of information. I mentioned that I’d like to use the S-TEC 55 autopilot. The fact that it wasn’t digital wasn’t something that bothered me, but hearing about some of the issues they had seen with the servos not holding up as well as they should have been got my attention. Cincinnati Avionics was only putting in a couple of S-TEC systems a year, but they were doing several dozen Garmin packages, and they raved about the support from Garmin with the GFC 500 issues. I couldn’t ignore that.
The Avidyne navigators were enticing, but the Avidyne digital autopilot isn’t certified for my airplane, and according to the reps I spoke to, it isn’t going to be. The S-TEC 3100 could work and would be in the ballpark of a Garmin for installation costs.
As I spent more time flying my airplane and understanding “Garmin-ology” and system logic, I found myself looking more and more at replacing the 430W with a modern system. I was skeptical about trying to use touchscreens in turbulence (a concern that has since been validated), but as I looked at all the options Garmin offered, I became more and more enticed. I’ve learned the hard way that trying to save money on electronics is usually a way to end up spending even more money to get it right the second time. And having an entire package from the same manufacturer would all but guarantee that everything would work the way it was supposed to from day one.
Talking to other pilots, avionics gurus, and trolling various web forums led me to finally decide to go all-in with Garmin. I opted for a single G3X display for the multifunction display/primary flight display and engine instrumentation system (EIS). This turned into the only surprise, because my airplane is a turbocharged model, and the EIS doesn’t support turbocharged engines because of a required fuel pressure differential reading. I had no idea, and it wasn’t caught until the installation was underway. Fortunately, the shop didn’t charge me for the extra GI 275 since they didn’t catch the issue either. However, I’d lose the ability to use the fuel flow and quantity information that the G3X provided, and that was important to me.
For a primary navigator, I opted for the GTN 750Xi, which is a powerful, amazing unit, and unlike the 430W, allowed for programming holds. With the Smart Glide feature, it allows a pilot to program in criteria for a suitable airport, and the system will display an arrow to the nearest such airport on both the 750 and the G3X, another major consideration for passengers. With the GFC 500 autopilot, it also offered full vertical navigation (VNAV) for descents, a tool I use every day in the Boeing 737s I fly. I didn’t feel the need to add a smaller 650Xi, but I did opt for a GNC 355 GPS/com to use if needed. I also swapped out an older transponder to get ADS-B In and Out.
I've learned the hard way that trying to save money on electronics is usually a way to end up spending even more money to get it right the second time.The waiting list for shop space was approximately nine months, and I was told the entire project would take anywhere from four to eight weeks. When I finally got notified that I was next up, I was ecstatic. Because the airplane was being gutted, I was getting a new panel as well, and Greg Meisman, the tech who would be assigned to my airplane, went back and forth with me on several revisions of the drawings. I got rid of the old Cherokee rocker switch panel, replaced the old switches with new ones, put them in a more logical order, eliminated the dimmer rheostat that can cause the landing gear indication lights to be so dim in daylight that you can’t tell if the gear is down, and added USB ports for all seats. As a final touch, I had the yokes sent off to be covered with a nice leather grip that added some pizazz to the finished product.
Meisman was sure he could do the work in four weeks, if not less. I used that time to work my way through all the online training materials while playing around with the iPad simulator. I was as comfortable as I could be without actually flying the airplane when Meisman called to let me know it was finished, as promised, in four weeks.
I’ve done several local practice flights and a round-trip cross-country, and to say that I am pleased is an understatement. The fuel totalizers are still being fine-tuned, but a software upgrade now allows the GI 275 to send the fuel information directly to the 750, which is going to be a game changer. The servos provide a much quicker turn rate than the S-TEC did, and while I am still trying to decide how I want the displays to be presented, I’m getting there. VNAV is a great tool, but like the 737, it’s also easy to make a mistake. Ask me how I know this.
My goal when I started this was to set myself up for the next 15 to 20 years or more of flying, or as I like to joke, until I lose my medical or my marbles, whichever comes first. The initial quote was for $102,000. A reliable estimate is to add 50 percent of the equipment cost for labor, and that was just about accurate. The final cost, because of the yoke work, some new switches, and a few other last-minute changes, was $107,000, not including annual database subscriptions; there was no pro-rated credit for my 430W subscription that I could see either. Is it worth it? Is it a recoverable expense if I sell? No, not even close. I am living proof that a fool and his money are easily parted. As for worth, I gave up that chase a while ago. But the peace of mind is worth a lot, as is the flexibility and redundancy that I now have. It is now a traveling machine in ways it never really was before, ready to take us on adventures we can’t wait to experience.
Chip Wright is an airline pilot and frequent contributor to AOPA publications.