A passionate CFI

My first task for early Saturday morning was to meet up with Tom, who has been building a Van’s RV–9A for the past 10 years and who I have been giving transition training to in my own RV–7A. He has been progressing very well in my airplane but was a little hesitant to make the first flight on his own. This probably was a very difficult decision for him, as the first flight in an airplane that you built with your own hands is a very special occasion that not too many people get to experience. I recommended that I make the first flight solo and then come back for Tom. He looked at me and said, “No, I want to be in the left seat!” I’m experienced enough to know that a lot of muscle memory is relied upon during emergency procedures, and despite hours and hours of instructing from the right seat, that muscle memory and experience would serve me best being in the more familiar left seat. That rationale made sense to Tom, and he admirably put safety above emotion. We compromised and agreed that I should fly left seat for the maiden flight while from the right seat he would monitor the engine parameters on the colorful Garmin G3X glass panel he had installed so beautifully.

After a few hours going over every inch of the airplane looking for any possible reasons not to defy gravity that lovely Saturday morning, we pulled his airplane out into the bright morning sun. We took the time to alert the control tower on the phone of our intentions with this experimental aircraft’s first flight and strapped ourselves in with a few butterflies in our guts. We did two high-speed taxis to rule out any possible problems with ground operations and to seat the brake pads. We then lined up on Runway 6 at Trenton/Mercer Airport (TTN), took a few deep breaths, and launched into the air. The airplane flew beautifully, no heavy wing or abnormal flying characteristics. Engine cylinder head temperatures were high as expected, but we kept an eye on them, adjusting the pitch of the nose to get more air over the engine and tweaking the mixture oh so carefully to keep temps within a safe operating range.

After about 30 minutes circling overhead, I performed some slow flight and stalls, clean and dirty (flaps extended). All checked out, so I entered the pattern and returned to Runway 6 with a greaser. We then took the cowling off and checked for leaks and any wires or hoses that might have come loose. I joked, “Are you sure you put oil in this brand new 160-horsepower Lycoming O-320? I’ve never seen an engine so clean!”

I’m not sure who gets more out of these flights: me or my clients. It is an absolute pleasure to fly with such experienced pilots.We then switched seats and Tom took her up for his first flight as pilot in command. I can only imagine the feelings running through his mind as he lined up on the centerline and pushed the throttle forward. I briefly interrupted with “watch your speed…adjust your pitch” while struggling to keep quiet. Not an easy task for an instructor, as I didn’t want to interrupt this special moment for him.

There were a few squawks to attend to, but after Tom addressed them, the airplane, built from an assortment of parts delivered in a bunch of wooden crates, had the potential to be a contender for a Lindy award at a future EAA AirVenture.

I then flew back to Sky Manor (N40), my home away from home, to meet up with my friend, Adam, an accomplished formation pilot, to start his ground portion of his flight review. We reviewed the federal aviation regulations and had a great discussion about how complacency is an experienced pilot’s worst enemy.

Sunday morning arrived way too quickly, with my alarm clock blaring in my face, feeling like it was only minutes since I closed my eyes. I rushed to get ready, anticipating another jam-packed day. I hopped in my truck and pointed it west to meet up with Adam to finish the flight portion of his flight review in his gorgeous 1957 T–34 Mentor.

I had him perform steep turns, slow flight, stalls, falling leaf, and a few emergencies: manual gear extension followed by an engine out. He took it all in stride and enjoyed the rust brush off.

After that, I had a two-hour window before my next “client” was arriving, so I took advantage of the free time to take my RV–7A up to splash some oil around the inside of the engine by doing some aggressive steep turns, wingovers, and a few rolls, ending with a landing at Pennridge (CKZ) and then another back at Sky Manor.

Now back at my hangar, I met up with my friend, Fred, whom I bought a restored 1947 Cub Special from (that’s another story for another time) and who was a naval aviator who flew for FedEx, for a flight review/instrument proficiency check in his stunning 1969 V-tail Bonanza. We did about an hour and a half of ground sitting in comfy chairs outside my hangar—door wide open enjoying the unusually warm February sun, discussing our planned IFR scenario. After a preflight and a quick snack, we then hopped in his airplane to fly some approaches at Reading (RDG) and then Lancaster (LNS). Unfortunately, we had a bad mag check during run-up and had to taxi back to investigate the issue. After opening up the cowling, a fellow Bonanza owner gracefully peered inside to discover the P-lead end cap loosened and dangling off of number 6’s bottom spark plug.

Because it was getting late in the day, we scrubbed our IFR flight and just went up for some air work and landings.

I’m not sure who gets more out of these flights: me or my clients. It is an absolute pleasure to fly with such experienced pilots. I wish more pilots approached the flight review with humble and open-minded attitudes, always striving to better themselves and to learn more. All in all, it was a very busy, rewarding weekend for me, but on the drive home I couldn’t stop wishing there was more time in the day to spend at the airport doing what I love.

Jim Kahle is a television technical director and independent CFII who lives in Morristown, New Jersey.