Now I've done it. Of course that Temporary Airman Certificate burned a hole in my pocket, and I just HAD to get an airplane. Just HAD to run out and buy something. Today I signed the bill of sale for a 1955 Cessna 170B in Healdsburg, CA.. Low time airframe (2700hrs), high time engine (1750hrs). It's a nice airplane. It's perhaps a little less performance than a 172, with infinitely more grace and style. I hope to pick it up this week, and I have some hope that it'll get me to the gliderport more often. Probably it's in vain, but I still hope.
Rex Mayes, who runs the Williams gliderport, actually looked at the plane for me. He's an A&P, and though I don't consider it a through pre-buy inspection, I was satisified with his perusal of the machine and the logs, and also with his comment, "If I was looking for a 170, this'd probably be the one I'd buy." I ferried him over there in a spam can. He seemed to enjoy just looking out the window at all the places his customers have crashed his gliders over the years, not worrying about the flying. (How often is Rex anyone's passenger?) He asked me how I liked flying airplanes vs. gliders now that I've been doing both. This is something I've given some thought to.
Today I signed the paperwork for the plane, then took off and hung a right. I flew down the coast from the Russian River, down over the Pt. Reyes VOR, through the Golden Gate. There was no marine layer, beautiful. I had flight following, and I don't think I busted any regs. That is impressive in itself, since you have to fly under the Class B inverted wedding cake, stay above the Point Reyes National Wildlife refuge minimums, and steer clear of the flight restrictions around Giants stadium. I both dreaded and secretly hoped for a catastrophic engine failure, so that I might have to land dramatically on on a beautiful and desolate stretch of beach. That was a nice flight, but even in the afterglow of just getting my license, I have to admit that the three-dimensional chess game of flying gliders, even on a mediocre day, still outstrips the best airplane flights I've had. Okay, that trip in my friend's L-39 Albatros from New York to Vermont in 30 minutes was bitchin, but for the time being, I will keep my Discus.
Here is a picture of the Cessna's tail feathers, which shame the Cessna lineage afterwards, and which are as lovely as the Falco's, in their own way:
